“Hey.” Hailee’s fingers brushed my arm, coaxing me to meet her steady gaze. “If you need to talk, I’m here.”
I stared at her, lost for words. She’d offered to be there for me, just like that. No judgement. No questions or ulterior motive.
It was more than I deserved and yet, I wanted to take it. I wanted to pour my heart out to this girl.
“Cameron?” Dad’s head appeared around the door. “Can I borrow you for a second?” His eyes went to the girl beside me. “I’m sorry, how rude of me. I’m Cameron’s dad, Clarke. You’re Jason’s sister, Hailee, right?”
“Yes, Sir, it’s nice to meet you.”
“I wish it was under better circumstances. My son said you got into a little bind last night and he helped you out?”
“He did,” her voice was quiet.
“Well I’m glad you’re okay. Cameron?” His gaze flitted back to mine, and I got up, following him into the hall.
“Is she okay?”
“Doctor Kravis wants us to go straight to Rixon General. Katie is coming by to pick up Xander—”
“Dad, I can watch—”
“You should get Hailee home and then go over to the Bennets’, okay?” He gripped my shoulder, squeezing gently. “I’ll call you as soon as we know anything.”
“Okay.” I ran a hand down my face. “I’ll get Xander’s bag packed.”
He nodded. “She’s going to be okay, Son.” Dad gave a little sigh and walked off down the hall. I went back into the den to find Hailee on the floor playing racing cars with Xander. I watched them from the doorjamb, a tightness in my chest. She was smiling, letting my little brother run his red car over her legs.
As if she felt me watching, Hailee’s eyes lifted to mine and she smiled. “Hi,” she mouthed.
“Hey.” I stalked toward them. “Guess what, buddy? Katie’s coming to pick you up.”
“Atie, I ove her.” He gave a little clap and began clearing up the pile of cars. Hailee helped and in no time, there was no evidence of their game.
I scooped Xander up and threw him over my shoulder, toddler-laughter filling the room, easing some of the pain I’d felt at seeing Mom like that. “Are you okay to wait for Katie to come and collect him and then I’ll drive you home?”
“Okay.” Her expression slipped, but I didn’t have time or energy to try to decipher it.
The drive to Hailee’s house was quiet. I was lost in my thoughts; worrying about Mom, feeling guilty over Xander being with Katie instead of his family. Instead of me. And something had changed with Hailee. It wasn’t so much what she said but everything she wasn’t saying.
Hell, who was I kidding? She probably already regretted letting me kiss her, touching her the way I had. She’d softened at my house. Let her guard down. But now we were in my truck, going to her house, and it was like last night, this morning, had all been a dream. A beautiful nightmare where you wake up and realize the amazing memories aren’t memories at all, but an alternate reality your mind created to taunt you.
My fingers tightened around the steering wheel as my emotions crashed over me like a tsunami.
“Cameron?” Hailee’s voice grounded me, and I glanced over at her.
“Yeah?”
The blare of my cell phone cut through the tension and I glanced down at the console to see Jase’s name flashing across the screen.
“Shit,” I mumbled under my breath. Hailee must have noticed his name too because she angled her body toward the window, watching Rixon roll by.
Everything was going to shit, and I couldn’t seem to find a way to smooth it over. I’d wanted us to talk. To figure out what this morning meant to her. To us. But there was no time now.
Hailee’s house came into view and I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized Jason’s car wasn’t in the driveway. “He must be at Asher’s already,” I said.
“I guess.”
I pulled up alongside Mr. Ford’s truck and looked at Hailee. She was no longer looking out of the window, but she wasn’t looking at me either.
“Hailee—”
“Cameron—”
We both chuckled, her eyes twinkling at me. “You go,” she said.
Where did I begin? There was so much I wanted to say. But I couldn’t seem to sort through my jumbled thoughts, so I said the first thing that came to mind. “You know we can’t tell Jason about this.”
Hurt flashed in her eyes. “Right, of course.” Hailee grabbed the door handle and went to climb out.
“Wait, shit… that came out wrong. I didn’t mean it like it sounded.”
“It’s fine.” She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I know it didn’t mean anything. It was just us working out our differences, right?” Her gaze finally slid to mine. She was pissed. And she had every right to be. But I couldn’t think straight.
“Hailee, that’s not—”
“I hope your mom is okay, I really do. Bye, Cameron,” she said before shouldering the door and escaping from my truck. Frustration swelled in my chest. She was running. She could pretend it was my fault, but my fuck up was only an excuse—the out she was looking for to run from me. Again.
“This isn’t over, Hailee,” I said, locking my eyes on hers as she glanced back at me, daring her to deny it. Her lips parted as if she was going to say something. Say something, I silently begged.
But at the last second, she shook her head a little and walked away from me.
Hailee
After Cameron gave me a ride home, I spent the day holed up in my bedroom, working on the art project for Seniors Night. I’d managed to find enough photographs of the senior players in action from the storage room, to use. There were nine of them in total. Which meant nine individual paintings. Mr. Jalin was right; it was going to mean some serious hours in the studio, but I welcomed it.
After this morning at Cameron’s house, I needed a distraction. Something to occupy my mind so I didn’t spend every waking minute replaying the way he’d kissed me, the way my body had come to life at his touch. My skin began to tingle, my stomach clenching as I let the memories wash over me. Frustrated at myself, I shook away the intrusive thoughts and focused on the task at hand.
Drawing had always been a way for me to relax, to switch off from life and lose myself in nothing but the swoosh of a brush against a fresh canvas, or the scratch of a finely sharpened pencil against a crisp page in my sketch pad. I couldn’t remember a time when I hadn’t loved to draw. As a child, I was always doodling and coloring in and getting mom to carve shapes into potatoes so I could make crazy paintings. But when we’d moved in with Jason and his dad, it became much more to me than just a hobby. It was a way to express myself; to work out my frustrations.
And it was mine.
I didn’t need a team behind me cheering me on, or an audience chanting my name. In some ways, art was as far away from sport as you could get, and the irony wasn’t lost on me.
But I didn’t only love it, I was good at it.
As I stared down at the sketch of Cameron, I couldn’t help but smile. I’d captured his strength and physique to perfection. Without realizing, my fingers began to ghost over his face, covered by his helmet. Waking up in his bed this morning had been a shock, but it hadn’t been as awkward as I’d expected.