reese

On the first day of vacation, Cam wakes to the feeling of fingers pressing gently into her sides. The soft, hushed murmur of Paige’s voice falls comfortingly over her, pulling her easily from her slumber. Her back aches from hours of sitting upright on the plane and she can feel the stiffness in her neck from the awkward angle of leaning her head against Paige’s shoulder for the duration of the flight and her nap, but she finds she doesn’t mind either of those discomforts too much when she opens her eyes to see Paige.

Her girlfriend has this sort of wide-eyed, quietly-in-awe look on her face as she leans over Cam’s body. The plane window is open, revealing miles upon miles of the Parisian cityscape, buildings lit up against the dark sky. When Cam looks a little closer, she can see the stunning visage of the Eiffel Tower standing tall beneath the stars. But when she looks back at Paige, she can see the twinkling, bright glow of amazement in her irises, and Cam can’t help but soften at the childlike-wonder in her gaze.

France is as much of a part of her as Georgia is. It’s home to half of her family – perhaps a half she doesn’t speak to any longer – but if there’s anything she learned from this past year, it’s that she can’t ignore who she is or push pieces of her to the side for comfort. Cam has visited frequently, has gazed up at the Eiffel Tower, wishing for something a little more than grueling basketball clinics or the weight of expectations, has become more than familiar with this country and how she fits into it, even if she feels a little more at home in Texas.

She knows with quiet certainty Paige has never seen Paris like this before. Sure, she’s been there for Team USA and surely for some other business trips, but being somewhere is different than being present somewhere. They had two weeks to spend in Paris together, to indulge and to be and to walk around the city together, with Cam regaling Paige with tales of her childhood and her family and the fond memories she has of her time here.

“Looks pretty from up here,” Paige whispers to her, unwilling to break the tranquility of the moment. They’d departed from Texas on an early flight and the both of them knew they’d have to deal with some disgruntled passengers if they woke them up. “I’m not usually awake whenever I’ve flown to Paris.”

Cam tears her gaze away from the monument, having seen it enough times she could paint it by memory. She cranes her neck to look at Paige, who’s still staring out of the window, lips parted slightly and her face completely relaxed. Loose strands of hair frame her face, having fallen out of her bun during the flight, and Cam lifts a hand to brush her fingers through the fine blonde strands as she responds. “What’s keeping you awake?”

Finally, Paige looks away from the window, and Cam is all too familiar with the softening in her eyes, the pure, unadulterated love in her expression. “Just excited,” she says, almost reminiscent of a kid on Christmas morning. She rests her hand over Cam’s thigh, squeezing gently. “I love our friends, you know? Turks was amazing. But I’m glad it’s just us right now.”

“Aw,” Cam teases, unable to resist. “You wanna get me alone so bad.”

Paige rolls her eyes, cheeks flushing. “Shut up, bro,” she mutters. “S’not even like that.” Still, a smile twitches on her lips, her amusement shining through. “When in Paris, I guess.”

“Nobody says that.”

“I do.”

“Okay, P,” Cam says placatingly, not interested in arguing in front of a bunch of tourists on the plane, even if it’s not really an argument. They were both just so competitive that they’d go on forever about whether or not anyone actually says when in Paris. Cam knows they don’t because the phrase is when in Rome, but she doesn’t think that’s an important conversation to have on the plane.

Still, Paige smiles like she’s won, and Cam’s grin only softens. She abandons Paige’s hair to intertwine their fingers together, leaning her head against her shoulder once more. “I did book us a private viewing session for the Eiffel Tower, though,” she tells Paige, and she feels the way her body shifts in surprise. It was meant to be a surprise, but she figures now was as good a time as any to reveal her plans.

“No guide?”

Cam scoffs, glancing up at Paige through her lashes teasingly. “What, you don’t trust me enough?”

“You still use the GPS to get to the Wings facility sometimes,” Paige says gently. “Sorry for being a little worried about your guide skills.”

Cam rolls her eyes. “It was one time. And it was from your place. You don’t let me drive.”

“‘Let’ is such a loaded word,” Paige mutters. “Makes me sound controlling.” Cam huffs out a quiet, amused laugh, and she presses her body a little further into Paige’s, feeling like she could go back to sleep. “Forreal, though – private? I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I pulled some strings,” Cam says plainly, which is really code for I paid a horrendous amount of money. Paige hums. Cam can feel the weight of her stare against her face and she knows that Paige knows she’s bullshitting, but she also feels the warm press of Paige’s lips against her cheeks, thankful.

A smile grows on Cam’s lips, and she holds onto Paige’s hand a little tighter as the pilot announces they’ll be landing shortly. Then, teasingly, Paige cranes her neck to whisper to her, “Is this the part where you teach me some French so I don’t look like a clueless American tourist?”

Cam laughs softly, meeting Paige’s eyes. “Could be. What do you wanna know?”

The mischief reflected in Paige’s eyes is just as bright as her affection. “A cuss word, obviously.”

“Oh, of course,” Cam says, “because the French people will love that.” Paige nods seriously, and the dimples on Cam’s cheeks pop out from the force of her smile. Easily, she loops the string of Paige’s hoodie around her finger, pulling her closer to press the softest of kisses to her lips in the dim lighting of the plane, everyone else too lost in their own worlds to care about them. Grinning, Cam breaks away to murmur, “Your first lesson is je t’aime.”

Paige raises a brow at her, cheeks flushing slightly. “What’s that mean?” she asks, even though Cam knows she knows what it means.

“It means you can’t guard me.”

“Mmm,” Paige says, unconvinced, although her smile twitches, amused and hopelessly in love. “Je t’aime you too, then.”

Paige’s lips are back on hers before she can respond – because they both knew Cam was going to say something smart – their kiss soft and chaste given their surroundings. Paige’s smile tastes a little sweeter when it’s pressed to her lips, and Cam knows this feeling isn’t something she’d give up for anything.

The vacation had been much needed and is over far too quickly, especially since the both of them were immediately swept up in offseason workouts, event appearances, and the general business of a professional athlete. Cam finds herself in California for a few days during summer training, working out with the next class of Stanford Cardinals. With Unrivaled around the corner, Cam finally gets around to adopting that third cat she’d once told Paige about.

Her name is Marianne – a beautiful white and grey ragdoll who’d taken to Paige instantly at the shelter. There was no way either of them could say no to her, especially with a name like Marianne, just like Marianne Dashwood from Sense and Sensibility. She’d fit right in with Gatsby. Bobby was still Bobby, but neither Bobby nor Gatsby minded their new sister any.

October rolls around, and with it comes Paige’s birthday. Cam finds herself in her kitchen at 7am making pancakes as quietly as possible so as to not wake up Paige, who she left sleeping in her bed. She’s mixed blueberries in the batter, turning parts of the pancake purple, and she carefully stacks the finished pancakes onto a plate, where she drizzles a generous helping of syrup. She leaves the dishes in the sink – that’d be a problem for later – and she carefully tiptoes her way back into the room.

The sight is enough to make her heart grow several sizes too big. Paige is stretched out across the bed, her cheek pressed flush to the pillow, a blonde halo of hair splaying out across the white fabric. The hand not trapped under the pillow carefully holds Marianne, who had been nothing but a clinger ever since Paige and Cam brought her home from the shelter. Bobby and Gatsby have already left the room to eat their breakfasts, and Cam can hardly wipe the smile off her face as she shuffles a little closer to her girlfriend.

“Paige,” she murmurs, balancing the pancakes in one hand as she reaches out with the other to skate her fingers along Paige’s skin. She presses one knee onto the bed, careful to not drop the plate as she hovers over her girlfriend. Cam whispers her name again, unable to keep the affection out of her gaze as Paige slowly blinks her eyes open, adjusting to the dim light in the room as she stares up at Cam. When her gaze finally focuses, blinking the sleep out of her eyes, a slow, lazy smile spreads across Paige’s lips. “Happy birthday, P.”

“Cam,” Paige says in awe. Her voice is raspy in the way it always is in the mornings, and it makes Cam’s body warm all over. Paige focuses on the pancakes, her gaze softening, then her eyes slowly drag along Cam’s body. She’d gone to bed in a loose tank top and a pair of what she’s certain are Paige’s sweatpants and she’s sure her hair is a little unruly from her bonnet, but Paige looks at her like she’s wearing a thousand dollar dress and she’s had her make up done professionally. “You didn’t have to do all this. Really.”

Cam gives her a look, and Paige’s smile grows, knowing. Her eyes focus on something on Cam’s face and amusement blooms on her face. Carefully, Paige pushes herself to a sitting position, and she reaches out for the plate of pancakes, where she sets them down carefully on the nightstand, right next to the photo of her and Cam from All-Star weekend.

“You know,” Paige murmurs, voice still a little rough as she pulls Cam easily onto her lap. Cam loops her arms around Paige’s neck, smiling, and one of Paige’s palms rests warmly on her hip, exposed by the material of her tank top, while the other reaches for her face. Her thumb brushes Cam’s cheekbone just as it had millions of times before. Paige is impossibly smug as she continues, “you still don’t gotta fight the flour sack for me. Woulda been happy with just the pancakes.”

Paige’s thumb comes away smudged in flour, and Cam can’t help but laugh as she remembers that morning so many moons ago where she’d baked Paige a cake, long before she knew what her feelings were or what they meant. They’ve come so far since then. Cam softens, inexplicably in love, and she presses her lips to Paige’s softly in response. It’s warm, unhurried, and reverent; Paige holds onto her hip a little tighter, pulling her flush against her body.

“Most people say thank you when their girlfriends go to war in the kitchen for them,” Cam teases when she pulls back.

A low laugh rumbles in Paige’s chest, and she kisses Cam again softly. “Thank you,” she says affectionately, and Cam can tell by the look in her eyes that she’s thankful for a whole lot more than the apparent kitchen battle. In lieu of a response, Paige just pulls her right back in, kissing her soundly and with a sort of tenderness that makes her feel weightless. Both of Paige’s arms wrap around Cam’s waist, fingers pressing into her skin, sighing at the warmth she finds unhidden by her tank. 

The intensity grows gradually, their breaths becoming ragged as they get lost in one another. Cam is so content to forget, to let her surroundings wash away, to focus on nothing but Paige, her girlfriend, who’s celebrating her birthday, who will find that Cam can be more than generous.

Unfortunately, though, Paige eventually breaks their kiss, pushing Cam away from her with great difficulty. “Cam,” Paige says breathlessly, already affected. “Our daughter.”

Cam glances down at the bed to find Marianne still curled up next to the pillow, sound asleep and completely unbothered. She huffs, affectionate yet a little cockblocked, and she rolls off of Paige’s lap to scoop the cat up in her hands. Marianne jolts with an annoyed sound although she trots off happily to the food dish in the kitchen when Cam sets her down on the ground.

Cam shuts the door behind her, already working on pulling her tank top over her head, and the last thing she sees before she kisses Paige again is that lazy, smug smirk of hers.

The holiday season is busy as it usually is. With it being their first as a couple, both Cam and Paige spend it split between their families. A southern Thanksgiving finds Cam and Paige playing pick-up in the driveway with some of Cam’s younger cousins and extended family, while Christmas in Minnesota has Paige searching for any and every reason to bundle up with Cam. Naturally, nobody escapes without a snowball fight, one that Cam most definitely wins.

(She did not win, but Paige was the one who ran her a warm bath and made her hot cocoa and only complained a little bit when Cam pressed her freezing cold fingers to the back of her neck, so Cam likes to think she’s winning something).

Unrivaled was the part of the New Year Cam was looking forward to the most, especially because it meant she and Paige would get to play on opposite teams. Don’t get her wrong – Cam loves nothing more than playing with Paige, loves nothing more than the promise of the years they’ll spend together on the same team, but she enjoys competing against her, too. This season, Cam had been selected to the Mist, with Paige being one of the Breeze’s inaugural picks.

The Unrivaled season was full of countless shenanigans. In January, the media team catches Cam and Paige on the way to the locker rooms with a challenge neither of them could resist. There’s a carton of eggs on a table and Paige’s eyes nearly bug out of her head as she echoes, “Break the egg with my bicep?”

The media admin already has a shit eating grin on her face. “Paige doesn’t go to lift,” she says to the camera, seeing Paige roll her eyes from the corner of her eyes. “She won’t crack shit.”

“Bro, she’s lying,” she exclaims. “She thinks this–” Paige rolls up her sleeve and flexes, “–this doesn’t come from the gym? Aight.” Cam does have to admit she’s bulked up a lot over the offseason. She’d never say that to Paige though.

“Crack an egg, then,” Cam says, and Paige’s eyes narrow like it’s game on.

Paige reaches for an egg in the carton and angles her body over the towel laid out on the ground. She rolls her sleeve up again, positions the egg in the crook of her elbow, and she flexes, squeezing the egg in between her forearm and bicep.

And…

It doesn’t crack.

Paige huffs dramatically, already a little breathless, and Cam can see her face going red with effort as Cam fights to keep her expression neutral. She struggles for a few more moments, gasping, “This is not a real egg, bro!”

“It’s real,” Admin says, amused.

Eventually, Paige gives up, and the egg falls off of her arm and splatters against the ground with a satisfying crack. Paige stares down at it – yolk and all – with a deadpan, disbelieving expression. “Well, obviously it’s gonna break after I did all the work.”

“Right,” Cam agrees.

In wordless challenge, Paige hands Cam an egg, and she rolls up her sleeve to notch the egg near her bicep. She flexes, squeezing the egg between her arm and the muscle. It takes a little work but the egg eventually bursts and the taste of victory is so much sweeter than the disgusting, cold feeling of the yolk sliding down her arm.

Paige doesn’t talk to her after that, but Cam manages to butter her up in the locker room with the promise of dinner, which is always the way to Paige’s heart.

Cam’s birthday is on February 7th. She does have a game scheduled, but Cam can’t think of a better way to spend her birthday. Coley makes sure she’s there to watch Cam play the Phantom, and, obviously, Paige is there too, having the day off since she played the Hive the night prior. The game is neck and neck, fighting to the very last possession in the fourth quarter.

The game had been tied with the score at 81-81, both teams being 2 points away from taking the victory. Fittingly, it’s Cam who scores the game winner for Mist – a midrange jumper that she and Paige had workshopped together during Paige’s rookie season when they were spending nights together in the gym. She’s sure Cam and Coley are the loudest in the arena when the ball falls through the net, and the hug she and Paige share on the sidelines is only slightly better than the victory.

The three of them go out to dinner after the game. Paige and Coley fight over who gets to pay until they eventually agree that Paige can cover dinner if Coley covers dessert. Coley is far too smug as she swipes her card at the froyo place, and, admittedly, she is third wheeling a little bit, but even she doesn’t seem to mind this time.

They go their separate ways with Coley needing to catch a flight to New York for a photoshoot and Cam and Paige back to Cam’s Miami apartment, a place that Paige has spent most of her time at despite having an apartment of her own. There, they settle on a quiet night in with a movie on the TV, though the peace is eventually derailed by wandering hands and warm lips and Cam is sure this might have been one of her best birthdays yet.

The 1v1 Tournament begins a few days later. Paige, unfortunately, loses to Chelsea Gray in the quarterfinals, but Cam makes it to the finals where she’s facing off against none other than Chelsea Gray. Cam doesn’t think she’s ever been more motivated for anything else in her life, even though Chelsea does take the first round. Cam quickly comes back and takes the second and the third round and she’s named the second 1v1 Champion in Unrivaled history, which is pretty good if she does say so herself.

Not that it needed to be said, but she does fully intend on holding this against Paige if she ever gets too sassy. Like, remember that time in Unrivaled where you lost to Chelsea Gray but I held her to 0 points in a win or go home 1v1 match?

February gave way to March, where both the Breeze and the Mist had made it into the playoffs. Fate seems to have a sick, twisted sense of humor, as Cam and Paige have to play each other in the semifinals. Cam always knew this was a possibility – playing against Paige in an elimination game. They were both mature enough to move past whatever outcome, although she didn’t really have much to worry about when Paige asks her at half-court, “Loser buys dinner?”

After a convincing 73-69 victory over the Breeze, Paige buys Cam dinner. And two days after that, when the Mist take on the Phantom in the finals, it’s Cam’s turn to buy Paige dinner after the Mist are announced the year two champions.

The one thing sweeter, however, than being named an Unrivaled Champion? The news that not only had Chris and Curt been fired, but also that Lisa Leslie had been named the next general manager for the Dallas Wings and they were in the midst of hiring a new head coach for the season. Cam did find it a little funny that she was playing on the same basketball team as her girlfriend, the same team that was now being managed by who was effectively her step-mother, but she tried not to think too hard about it.

With Unrivaled over for the year, there was only a short amount of time before the 2026 season was underway. The CBA negotiations took up the brunt of that time, but they were extremely successful. It was historic for the league, truly signifying a new era for the sport, and Cam couldn’t help but be so grateful to be a part of it.

April arrives quickly. UCLA blows out South Carolina to win the national championship, led by a hungry senior core that had no plans of leaving college without a ring. Following the hire of their new head coach, the Wings made some excellent free agency moves, most notably in Alanna Smith, Jessica Shepard, and Alysha Clark. Cam and Paige are overwhelmingly busy in the days leading up to the draft, but when they finally make it to New York to welcome in the 2026 class, Cam can’t help but feel like she’s made it.

Cam has always loved draft night.

There’s something so bittersweet, yet so impossibly exciting about it. She attended her first one in 2019 to support her Stanford teammate, Alanna Smith, who was drafted 8th overall to the Mercury. Cam was a rising junior when she heard Alanna’s name be called, when she watched her walk to the stage and pose with the jersey, when she realized just how monumental it is.

The last one she attended was in the spring of 2025. Truthfully, she didn’t expect much to come out of it. She was there to support the rookies, to congratulate them on making it this far, to be the kind of support she wished she had when she was a rookie trying to navigate the big leagues. Cam watched as Paige Bueckers was drafted first overall by the Wings – her team, and how she hugged everyone at her table and carefully braced a hand over her chest because for all of her NIL money, she couldn’t seem to afford a shirt.

Sleeping with Paige on draft night certainly hadn’t been part of the plan. Nor was that paradoxical, carefully reckless relationship of theirs that burned until they gave into it. Life, however, seems to have a way of coming full circle, because Cam is attending the 2026 WNBA Draft with Paige, her girlfriend of a little over eight months; with Alanna Smith, who is now her teammate once more thanks to Paige’s free agency pestering (okay, Cam had pestered a little, too); and with Lisa Leslie, the new general manager of the Dallas Wings.

Simply put, Cam was over the moon. There wasn’t much that could take away this happiness from her, not even the startlingly neon green Wings draft caps. She’s standing backstage with the aforementioned cap resting gingerly over her curls, her gaze locked on the TV broadcasting the analyst’s discussion about the potential number one picks – as though there was truly a debate – when her phone buzzes in her back pocket.

Alysha: Cam, I want you to know I have dibs on this rookie Alysha: I have to protect her from you

Cam: Protect her from WHAT

Paige: Yeah protect her from what ? Paige: I love it over here

Zaza: call your uber

Maddy: What does that even mean

Cam: I’m ignoring Paige on purpose

Paige: Rude

Cam: She’s all yours Alysha Cam: But don’t be jealous when she wants to learn from a real vet

In lieu of a response to that, Alysha sends a picture of her hand, weighed down by three championship rings. Cam’s lips twitch, amused, and all she can muster is a thumbs down emoji as she pockets her phone. THE PICK IS IN is emblazoned across the screen as the cameras pan to Cathy Engelbert, who marches her way across the stage to stand at the podium.

Cam knows who they’re drafting. Cam knows that she knows she’s being drafted. All she feels is an overwhelming excitement – she signed with the Wings on a lengthy deal, making her the highest paid player in franchise history; she and Paige were both thriving and healthy; and the Wings made positive front office and coaching staff changes. They were moving in the right direction and Cam is so ready for this upcoming season.

Draft night is a monumental moment. Cam knows that as well as she knows that she loves this city and this team. It’s a feeling that doesn’t disappear, although it’s one that only grows when Cathy finally announces, “With the first pick in the 2026 WNBA Draft, the Dallas Wings select… Azzi Fudd, University of Connecticut.”