miss ke 💐

Choosing to study in Cameron’s room this time rather than the library was proving to be impossible. With him being fortunate enough to have his own single, you two got comfortable on his bed. Crossing your legs, you sat at the head of his bed. He rested his back against the wall, facing the door. You weren’t even twenty minutes in yet before he started begging you to come to his football game. Specifically, for you to come sit in the family and friends section again. In his own words: “this one is important for real”.

“For me at least?!”

“No”.

“Please?”

“No!”

“Pl-”

Fully looking up from your notebook now, you glared at him before he could utter the word. “Cam, no. I already told you I’m not doing that shit again! The regular bleachers will do just fine”. You already planned to go, however you had been adamant on not sitting in the same section. Assuming that meant you weren’t going at all, Cameron made sure to lay it on thick. He learned early on in your friendship that there was an 85% success rate if he annoyed you enough to the point you’d give in.

He laughed, swatting your ankle. “C’Monnn, I promise this time will be different”. Pausing as the moment replayed in his head, he let out another snicker. “I swear on everything I’ll make sure you don’t get hit with the ball”.

You kicked at his shin, trying to conceal your laughter. “It’s not funny! The bruise is just now starting to fade”. The first-and last-time you sat front row in the family & friends section, the ball ended up striking you just above your hip.

Wrapping his hand around your calf, he gave it a squeeze. Sporting a soft smile while rubbing your skin, he voiced, “I’m sorry”. Shifting to a serious tone now, his grip trailed up, stopping below your knee. “Please come… I need you there tomorrow”.

Gnawing on your bottom lip, you contemplated, taking in his expression. He was talented in that way, able to make you crack with one pleading look and that soft drop in his voice. Begrudgingly, you mumbled, “fine. But I am NOT sitting in the front row, I don’t care”.

A wide grin spread across his features before he pounced, pulling you onto his lap to trap you in a bear hug. “Thank you”. Making a small noise of surprise, you immediately slid your hands up his back. Folding your knees beside his hips for comfort, you straddled him. He lingered, absentmindedly rubbing along your hips and savoring the scent of your fragrance.

With your cheek pressed against his chest, a faint smile ghosted your lips. Wincing when his thumb accidentally swiped across your bruise, you shifted in his lap. Bringing your hands to his abdomen, you gave him a gentle nudge. “Cam”.

Quickly uttering, “sorry”, he repositioned his hands on your thighs. He leaned back, peering in the direction of your bruise before lifting his gaze. “You good?” You nodded, eyes falling to his lips for a split second. Suddenly, aware of the compromising position, you began to move off his lap. Once you slipped out of his grasp, his gaze followed while you situated yourself at the head of his bed. Glancing down, he swallowed hard, using a pillow to cover himself so you wouldn’t notice the tent growing in his sweats.

You two had been dancing around the tension for years. Never placing a name on it or giving the feelings that began to simmer over time any attention. Nothing ever happened but you both shared the same thought. It wasn’t worth losing each other if things went wrong. The friendship was too important. Plus, in your mind, if there was something on his end, it was just lust. And the thought of that alone hurt more than discovering whether or not he truly felt the same so you remained comfortable in the unknown.

“You owe me by the way”.

He was waiting for that to come. Lips curling into a smile, he asked, “What do you want?”

Continuing to write, you kept your attention focused on the page in front of you, not sparing him a glance while responding. “That’s for you to figure out, I’m sure you’ll come up with something!” Pausing your movements to raise your head, you caution, “you’ll still owe me if I’m not satisfied though so choose wisely”. You finished with a curt smile before resuming your writing.

Uttering in a hushed tone, “you’re something else for real”, he shook his head in amusement.

Ears perking up a bit, you hummed, “what was that?”

Throwing his hands up in defense, he quickly voiced, “Nothing! Didn’t say anything”.

………………

Any chance he could, Cameron would glance over towards the family and friends section, anticipating your arrival. You’d leave him on his toes a lot, but this was the one thing he could never predict with you. He started to note you’d either come fairly early or exactly when the game started but you’d never be late. Not even five minutes. Despite knowing this, he couldn’t help the pit that formed in his stomach until he saw your face.

Completely unaware of how much weight he had placed on you showing up, you would simply show up whenever you happened to finish getting ready. Avoiding coming in late was the only somewhat strict guideline you held yourself to. No matter how many times you’d watch him play, it never became repetitive. If anything, each game was different. Cameron was consistently sharp as a player, seemingly excelling with every play.

Football has always been the focal point of his life. To any bystander, they would see him and think he was great. To you, all you saw was his drive to become perfect. He’s never stopped. And he’d never allow himself to. Any broken bones or concussions were just a bump in the road. Cameron remained in his place as the most persistent person you’ve ever met.

A part of you was always on edge, terrified even that something would happen to him on the field one day. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop watching. Not when he slipped into that state of raw, unbridled focus. To say he’s grown since you were kids would be an understatement.

Just as warm up was winding down, Cameron watched you saunter into the stands. Spotting someone you knew, you took a seat next to them, sparking up conversation. Recognizing the crew neck you wore was the one with #5 embroidered on the wrists, he smiled at the sight. The sheer amount of merch you had accumulated continued to grow and was getting a bit ridiculous at this point, but you weren’t complaining. The quality was unmatched. Each item he’d give you would either fall in pajama territory or your closet depending on the style.

As predicted, the game ended with Cameron as the MVP, bringing in another win for the team. Making your way out of the stadium, you and your classmate paused for a moment to catch up before you left.

“Sooo what’s up with you and Cam?! How long you been on that?”

Brows furrowing in confusion now, your mood shifted as soon as the words left her mouth. Smile dwindling a bit, you questioned, “what do you mean…?” You knew what she meant but there was a reason you never outwardly spoke about him unless prompted. Majority of people who were privy of your friendship automatically assumed it was more than that. Nor would they believe it when you two clarified you’re just friends.

“How long have y’all been fucking? Or are y’all actually together?!”

“Neither actually. We’re just friends, it’s not like that”. Maintaining your composure, you were waiting for her to voice the real reason for asking.

Her expression immediately lighting up, she asked, “would you mind hooking me up then?? He looks too good around campus, I can’t believe you haven’t fucked at all!”

Forcing out a short laugh, you nodded. “You cool with me giving him your number?” Trying to ignore the twinge of discomfort settling in your stomach, you kept a tight lipped smile.

Nodding, she hummed, “Mhm, that works!”, rolling her eyes afterwards. “My brother refuses to set me up with him, I’ve stopped asking him that shit”.

Finding yourself growing increasingly uncomfortable, you let out another laugh. “No problem. I’ll see later, I have to go!” Right on cue, your phone started ringing as you began to walk back to your car.

“Hey”

“Hey, you still here?!”

“About to leave, why?”

“Give me ten minutes! Don’t leave yet”.

“I’m giving you eight, hurry up”. Hearing his laughter ring out through the phone before you hung up, a small smile came to your face. Occasionally, he would take up the opportunity to ride back to campus with you if he chose to ride with one of his teammates to the field instead of driving.

Knowing you always parked as close as possible, Cameron made a beeline for your car. Distance closing in, he saw you clearly, distracted on your phone. Taking this as a chance to scare you, he ducked down, gradually getting closer until he ran up to your window, slapping his hands on the glass. Jumping at the sudden noise, you clutched your heart, turning to see him bubbling with laughter. You glared at him, shaking your head in amusement before cracking the window. “Yea, have fun walking back to your dorm. I’m not giving you a ride!”

He swiftly rounded the car, pulling on the handle to see you had already locked it. “Wait chill, unlock the door!” Deciding to partake in the antics, you kept your finger on the button, unlocking it for a split second before locking it again. You did it one more time, laughing as he attempted to open it again before finally letting him in. He climbed in, throwing his travel bag in the back before shifting the seat as far as it could go for leg room.

The scent of his body wash immediately striking your senses, you involuntarily clench your legs. You took in his appearance, baggy gray sweats riding low on his hips with a plain white wife beater on. Gaze trailing down his bicep towards the prominent veins displayed on his forearm, you questioned, “it’s hardly 55 degrees right now, you’re not cold?”

He shook his head, expressing, “nope”, as his eyes scanned over your outfit. Lips turning up into a smile, he reached over the console, grabbing your wrist to get a clear view. This was the first time he’d ever seen you wear any of the merch he gave you with his personal number on it. Heart speeding up, he was silent for a moment. “You wore this one for me?”

Unbeknownst to him, you always wore the engraved items of clothing in private. Briefly glancing in the direction he was looking, you peered back up, almost able to see the gears turning in his head. “No, I wore it because it’s cold out. Plus, it’s comfortable”. After he chuckled at your response, you playfully pushed at his knee, rolling your eyes. “Duh I wore it for you. Didn’t you say this one was important?”

Laughing again, he nodded. “There were several scouts watching today”. You knew there was always a range of them at every game, but he wouldn’t have mentioned it unless some were from his top choices.

Many from other teams have come to scout him except for the ones he anticipated the most up until this point. “Wait… which ones from your lineup?”

A slow grin forming, he responded, “first and second”.

Unable to contain your excitement, you urged, “get out, I need to give you a hug!”, before promptly opening your door to step out. Cameron met you halfway, immediately wrapping his arms around your lower back to pull you flush against him. Bringing your hands up to reach his broad shoulders, you embraced him. Reveling in your hold, he nuzzled into your shoulder, lowering his grip to your hips.

Noticing he was reluctant to part, you ran one of your hands down his arm, caressing his bicep while mumbling, “I’m happy for you”.

Feeling him smile against you, his voice was muffled. “Knew you would be”. After another second, he lifted his head. Peering down at the sincere expression that had settled over your features, his mind was quiet. Through all the chaos that accompanied the sport, you were at the center of it, grounding him back in reality.

It was moments like these where confusion would strike you a bit. Cameron was an open book. You were well acquainted with all his cues at this stage in your friendship, yet you could never decipher what he was thinking when his eyes glazed over like this. Giving his arms a gentle squeeze, you asked, “ready to leave now?”

Nodding in response, he chimed, “I could drive if you want”.

“Yea, absolutely not Cam. You drive crazy!”

He scoffed, “Me?! I’m probably the safest driver you know”.

Amused, you raised a brow at his quip, shaking your head in disagreement against his chest. “Not even by a long shot”. Aware of him still keeping you in his grasp, you remarked, “so… you plan to let me go or…?” After he begrudgingly parted you two shared a small laugh, getting back in the car to leave.

Once you returned back to campus, a thought sprung to your mind. Shutting the car off, you casually mentioned, “oh by the way I have a number for you”.

“The girl you were sitting with…?” You nod, unlocking your phone to find it. Before you could even start the search, he quickly voiced, “I don’t want it”. At the sound of this you peered over to see his face fell flat.

Confused and slightly intrigued, you confirmed, “you sure?”

“Positive”. Jaw clenching now, he added, “I’m not getting involved with Brian’s sister. I don’t want her”. He studied your features in acknowledgement, biting his tongue.

Assuming it was nothing more than a boundary thing with his teammate, you shrugged, leaving it off with an “ok”.

Both proceeding to walk in the direction of the dorms now, Cameron asked, “can I come up tonight?”

You nodded, sending a quick message to your roommate. While Cameron was lucky enough to be alone, you were lucky enough to share an apartment with your best friend. It had just become a courtesy at this point to give a heads up even though she’d never care, occupied in her own bedroom or the living room.

Upon entering the space, Cameron made himself comfortable on the bed while you searched your dresser for pajamas. “What about the movies?” Humming in confusion, you turned to face him. “Going to the theatre, is that acceptable for you? I know you’ve been wanting to see the movie that just came out”.

Ears perking up in interest, you questioned, “when?”

“This Friday work? We can go after my practice, get food afterwards?”

A genuine smile finding its way to your face, you shook your head in approval, “Yea, I’m satisfied with that”, before venturing off towards the bathroom to change. When you left his view, Cameron’s grin widened. Nothing granted him more pleasure than making you happy.

After a few moments, you returned, wearing a loose fitting top with sweatpants, ready for sleep. Dimming the lights now, you cozy up under the covers next to him. Both mindlessly discussing how your day went while scrolling on your phones, you began drifting off. Cameron followed suit, having it in mind that he was going to rest his eyes for a bit before heading out. You two ended up falling into a deep slumber, periodically shifting your bodies throughout the night to get comfortable.

At some point, he turned to his side, slinging his arm around your mid-section. Loosely grasping his forearm, you gravitated towards his body, shuffling back against him. You stayed in that position for a few hours, unconsciously moving your body again to flip around, nuzzling into his side. He kept his arm wrapped around you, pulling you as close as possible.

Once morning came, Cameron woke up first. His eyes gradually opened, adjusting to the light peeking through your curtains until they dropped to your figure. Curled next to him, you had your face pressed onto his chest, arm resting along his abdomen. Staying quiet and still, he admired the view, feeling his heart swell. Sure, there had been other instances in the past where you two happened to fall asleep in the same bed but none like this. He’d stay like this all day, just watching the soft rise and fall of your body for comfort.

Your alarm beginning to ring out now, his thoughts were cut short. Eyes still shut, you groggily shifted, reaching to turn the sound off before bringing your arm back to its position. Slowly becoming aware, your brows furrowed in confusion. You repeatedly pat his stomach, feeling the hard planes of his abdomen underneath your fingertips. Quickly coming to the realization after a few seconds, you blinked, pushing yourself up into a seated position.

Giving him a playful shove, you turned your attention to him. Mumbling out, “How come you didn’t say anything? I didn’t know I was all over you like that”, you saw a small grin on his face.

Bypassing the twinge of emptiness, he felt when you pulled away, he casually shrugged, “I didn’t mind”. He watched as you checked the time on your phone, setting it back down with a tired groan. “What time is your class?”

“12:30 today. You?”

“Eleven”.

“Cam that’s in an hour…”

“So?”

Voicing, “What do you mean so?!”, you shoved him again, laughing at his sense of urgency. “You need to leave right now to get ready. I refuse to be the reason you’re late!”

“Damn you’re kicking me out already?! Bedside service sucks here”.

More laughter bubbling out, you urged, “yes, it does, now get up! There’s extra toothbrushes in the bathroom”. He chuckled, finally moving to head to the bathroom. Before he left, you told him to just text you the details for the movie later.

………………

Friday

Cameron now found himself in a predicament. His teammates had drilled into his head the best way to celebrate several of their top picks showing up was an impromptu party. Tonight. He didn’t want to reschedule, nor did he want to cancel on you but in that moment at practice he thought: what better way to celebrate that…?

“Ik this is last minute, but you mind if we go on Sunday? I’m exhausted rn, I’m just going to sleep in tn.”

“No, that’s fine. I understand”.

“I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you I swearr”.

“Cam it’s fine, get ur rest. I’ll talk to you tmr”.

“You’re not mad, are you??”

“No, just take care of yourself pls. Hope you get some good sleep!”.

The guilt was quick to set in and stayed throughout the evening. As soon as he sent the first message, he felt the pit simmering in his stomach, increasing by the hour. After practice was over, he sat on his bed, contemplating whether it was the right move to actually go to the party. Damage had already been done the moment he rescheduled so in his mind, things couldn’t possibly get worse if he showed his face for an hour or two. He never lied to you, let alone left you as an afterthought so what was different now? Why did it feel so heavy?

On the opposing end, you felt a pang of disappointment when the notification popped up but brushed it off. Tried too at least. Placing your focus back on the show you were watching with your roommate, your mind drifted. It felt like there was something else he was omitting but he would’ve told you. Gnawing on your lip as anxiety began to creep in, you were quiet, thinking about what else it could be. He’ll probably tell me later.

Poorly hiding your concern, your best friend peered over, taking in the worry painted on your features. Momentarily dragged out of your thoughts, you felt a nudge on your shoulder. You Glanced over at her, releasing a small hum. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing”.

“Girl…”

“Nothing, seriously. I just… I don’t know”. You passed her your phone, showing the messages. “Am I tripping for feeling like something’s a little bit off?! Be honest”. She took a moment to read the thread, and you watched as her neutral expression morphed into one of discontent.

Shaking her head, she handed it back to you. “He’s hiding something, guarantee it”. Your face fell at her words. Despite seeing that coming, a part of you was hoping she’d lie. At least then you could really convince yourself not to overthink. Attempting to cushion her words, she encouraged, “fuck him though, don’t even give it a second thought! Come out with me tonight!” Seeing your apprehension, she grasped your hand, continuing, “pleaseee, I’ll make sure you have fun! It’ll take your mind off it!”

A smile ghosting your lips at her insistence, you caved. “Ok, fine! Where are we going?”

Gleefully squeezing your hand now, she grinned.

“Some party happening near the hub I think?? I don’t know who’s hosting but my friend said it should be a good turnout. We’ll see for ourselves though!” Checking the time on her phone, she mumbled, “oh shit…”, before launching off the couch. “Start getting ready now, we’re going to pregame!” Turning on her heels to head toward her room, she yelled out, “wear something slutty!”

Loudly laughing at her excitement, you sprung off the couch, shouting back “I will”, through your laughter.

………….

You were three shots in by the time you two arrived at the party and sure enough, the place was packed. Though you were a bit tipsy, you could’ve sworn that you’d been here before. The house looked way too familiar but not enough for you to spare more than a second thought. Immediately upon walking in, the aroma of smoke filled your nostrils accompanying the heavy bass leaking from the speakers as the music blasted.

With your arms linked, you two shuffled deeper into the house, stopping for a moment to converse with a few mutual friends. After a couple more interactions, both of you managed to navigate through the sea of people, finding the kitchen. Giggling at your best friends reaction once she spotted her drink of choice, you lost your footing for a second. Bumping into somebody hard, you turned your head a bit, muttering out, “oops, sorry about that!”

After hearing your name called, you fully swiveled, searching around to figure out who said it before looking up directly in front of you. “Brian, hey! What are you doing here?!” Pulling him in for a brief hug, he chuckled. “I’m hosting! Glad you could come”.

“Oh! I didn’t know you were having a party tonight”. It took a second for you to make the connection, but it slowly dawned on you as he continued.

“What do you mean? Cam didn’t tell you?? He said you couldn’t come!”

Keeping a smile plastered on your face, you dismissed the anger bubbling inside upon realizing he lied, twice. Shaking your head, you voiced “nope! He’s here?”

“Yea, he’s on the couch!” Eyeing you up and down, he added, “you look good by the way” ignoring him uttering “really good” under his breath, you simply nodded.

“Thanks”. Looking around to see where your friend was, you stopped in your tracks after his voice rung out again.

“You know Cam said you were off limits, but you mind if I get your number really quick…?”

“Sorry, he said what?!”

“He told us you were off limits but shit, he’ll just have to understand”.

Sobering up by the second you confirmed, “He told all of you I’m off limits?!” Once he nodded, he asked for your number again and you decided in that moment, why not? Promptly making your way out of the kitchen now, you went off to figure out where your friend might have wandered. Your mind was racing now, trying to decipher what could’ve possibly motivated Cameron to act like this.

Crossing another pathway throughout the house, your heart sunk as you caught a clear glimpse of the couch. Even at a distance you could make out Cameron’s figure. The couch had several other people occupying it and one of those happened to be Brian’s sister. Music deafening out and the people surrounding the area suddenly going out of focus, you stood there, blinking at the scene unfolding. With both her arms curled around his, she shuffled her body close, leaning against his side to murmur something in his ear. He looked disinterested, not particularly focused on her or anything going on around him and you could tell by her mannerisms that she was drunk, yet you had no time to form a thought.

“There you are, I lost you girl! Having fun yet?!”

The sound of her voice was barely enough to pull you out of the trance you were in. For a split moment, he locked eyes with you during a scan of the room. Unsure if he was seeing correctly, he squinted, eyes widening once he realized. Heart lurching, the familiar lump began forming in your throat. Quickly looking away, your vision started to blur, tears threatening to spill. Frantically looking around to find the closest exit, you urgently muttered, “I need air, I need to leave”.

Before you broke your gaze, she followed your line of sight, smile dropping and mouth parting once she saw. Immediately understanding, she linked your arms again, keeping a solid grip while she wordlessly started leading you through the crowd, out the back door. You couldn’t wipe the droplets beginning to roll down your cheeks fast enough.

………………

Unable to shake the gnawing feeling of guilt, he regretted coming to the party as soon as he crossed the threshold. He was about to walk back but was stopped by one of his homeboy’s sparking a conversation. The atmosphere was no help, only proving to be more irritating than anything. Passed up going to the movies for this shit…

Deciding to take refuge on the couch, he was quiet, only contributing to the conversations here and there. But to really top things off, it was impossible for him to stop thinking about you. About how much he’d rather be celebrating with you, alone. Consistently checking his phone to see if you might’ve messaged him again, his knee started bouncing with nerves. Wonder what she’s doing right now…

He wasn’t allowed more than fifteen minutes of peace before Brian’s sister attempted to saunter over sensually, plopping down into the little space available next to him. Any thin thread of patience he had left the moment she touched him. Brows furrowing in disgust, he was about to brush her off, standing fully to leave the party but then his eyes found you. Dawning on him how bad this shit looked, he swiftly stood up, abruptly pushing her off to barrel through the crowd.

Disappearing as quickly as he saw you, he no longer saw which direction you went. Fuck, please pick up... Heart racing now, Cameron rushed through, getting outside to call you. No answer. Call again, no answer. Sprinting to his car, he sped back to campus.

“I’m sorry”.

“Where are you??!”

“I’m coming to find you”.

“Please talk to me, let me explain”.

After several calls and messages, you put your phone on dnd, disregarding them. Fortunate enough to catch a ride back with your roommate and her current fling, she asked if you were good to walk to the apartment alone. Ensuring you were, she stayed behind while you stepped out, making your way toward that path. Frankly being completely alone right now sounded nice. You needed to clear your thoughts.

Despite being upset that he lied, the one thing that stood out to you was the “off limits” statement. There was no questioning whether or not that was true because after a bit of reflection, you realized just how obvious it was. You weren’t around all of his teammates much but the few that would circulate around him always averted their gaze, keeping interactions short and to the point. In this moment you wanted nothing to do with Cameron. At All. But the only thing you wanted right now was an explanation. Some semblance of truth that might explain his behavior.

Settling into the comfort of your room now, you sighed. Taking a seat on your bed, you finally let the tears flow freely, actively trying to wipe them as they came. It was ridiculous to even cry about something so trivial, but you couldn’t shake the image of him with Brian’s sister. The steeping knot that set in your stomach seeing him comfortable with another woman. Maybe he lied about that too…

Hearing a faint knock on the door, you grabbed a tissue, patting your eyes before stepping out of your room. Assuming it was your roommate coming up to grab something, you swung open the door, only to be met with Cameron. His heart twisted when you came into view. Spotting your tear stained cheeks, he fought the urge to reach out and swipe them away. Face growing rigid at the sight of him, you quickly motioned to shut the door. He placed his hand on it, halting the movement.

“Please, I’m not here to upset you. I just want to apologize”. Taking a few steps back from the door, you moved into the kitchen, leaning against the counter for balance. Stepping into the apartment now, he rounded the other side, leaving a gap between you two. He knew better than to crowd your space when you were angry with him, having learned that lesson the last time.

“I’m giving you five minutes. Hurry up”.

“My intention wasn’t to hurt you I didn’t— I wasn’t thinking when I accepted that invite, I’m sorry. I fucked up, I know that, but I promise—-”

Your frustration was rising with each word. Sharply cutting him off, you interjected, “what was it then hm? To lie for the sake of lying?!”

“No, that was a mistake. I should’ve told you the truth”.

“But you didn’t… for whatever fucking reason. I could promise you I wouldn’t have cared if you said off rip you didn’t want to go tonight anymore. Matter fact, let’s see…” You held out your hand, using your fingers to begin counting how many times he lied. “Instead of flat out telling me you’d rather go to an impromptu party, you told me you were going to sleep in. Hell, who knows if you were actually exhausted so lie number two?? Told your friend I couldn’t come, lie number three-”

His solemn expression morphed into confusion as you continued. Heart rate speeding up, he grew deeply concerned about what else Brian possibly told you. “But my favorite one— “, you paused to laugh, using air quotes now. “‘I’m not getting involved with Brian’s sister. I don’t want her’”. Brows furrowing now after listing them, you gazed at him, utterly puzzled.

He shook his head, rounding the counter to level with you. “That last statement was not a lie, I don’t. I know how it looked but I promise you she was drunk, I pushed her off me. You know I don’t want her”. You glanced down, fighting back the urge to cry as he continued. Cautiously stepping closer, he earnestly pleaded, “please believe that. The other two were lies and I apologize for even putting you in this position but please—”. He reached for your hand, soothing the back of it with his thumb.

For a brief moment you softened into his touch, resolve slipping until the words “off limit” rung in your mind. Anger spiking, you shoved him away, pushing him at his chest. “Don’t touch me!” Tears fell as your mind raced. Stepping out of his proximity, you headed into the living room, creating as much distance as possible.

He turned, watching you pace. Taken back by your demeanor, he was trying to understand what you were thinking. Anything to rationalize why you were so upset. Facing him now, you stopped, mumbling in a hushed tone, “why would you—”, pausing to clutch your stomach. “Why did you tell your teammates I’m off limits…?”

Mind going blank, Cameron felt his heart drop to his stomach. “It’s not like that— it’s not what you think, I swear”. He met you in the living room, pain flashing in his eyes when you took a step back. “I don’t want them to hurt you, that’s all—”.

“But it’s ok when you do it…?” Words sending a direct pang of guilt up his spine, Cameron shook his head. “Is that why you lied…?” He was frozen. Throat burning now, a hard lump formed.

You urged yourself to continue, trying to dismiss how excruciating the knot had grown with every thought. Voice cracking, you managed to stutter out, “how— how long have you been waiting for an opportunity…? Is that how you see me…? This…?”, motioning between the two of you. “A quick fuck??”

The silence was loud. Cameron couldn’t conjure up any thought. Struggling to breathe now, he felt like someone had punched him in his chest, winding him of air. Scrambling to stop that notion from going any farther in your brain, he frantically emphasized, “no… no, no, listen that’s not what this is to me, I’m not— “. He couldn’t help himself from coming closer, reaching out to soothe you.

It was too late. That idea had already been fully adopted, seeping into your conscious and jumbling with your own feelings for him. You were becoming increasingly distressed, throat constricting before another wave of fresh tears streamed down your face. Shaking your head in disbelief, you took another small step backwards, muttering, “stop”.

Obliging for fear of upsetting you further, Cameron stopped, dropping his extended arm. “You know how much you mean to me…? Our connection…? How could you think— when have I given you the impression that’s how I view our friendship?! I would never see you like that…”. Hearing his voice break, you were almost on the verge of pulling him in for a hug. It was clear you wouldn’t be able to rationalize your thoughts and feelings with him around you. “I don’t see you like that”.

“Please leave…”

Standing there in shock, Cameron couldn’t remember the last time he felt this gut wrenched. Reluctantly walking a few steps back, he clenched his jaw, turning to leave out. The closer he came to his dorm, the worse he felt. Once he reached his room, an uncomfortable, stinging ache took root in his chest. Vision blurring, he ran a hand down his face, rubbing his eyes to prevent any tears from coming. He didn’t care how damaged things felt right now, determined to repair it no matter what.

Eventually you calmed down enough to think without tears welling in your eyes. You laid in bed, chronologically replaying the day in your head. Confused even more now, his demeanor throughout the conversation continued flashing. And while you were Initially unsure about whether he was being honest, you weighed that single factor. The one thing he could never mask was his hurt. Not with you. He never tried to.

The following morning, Cameron had to force himself not to call or text you, wanting to respect your space. Deciding to continue with his routine, he buried the growing concern steeping into his mind as each day passed without a word from you. There was only one other time in your friendship where you weren’t speaking to each other. That instance was in middle school and ended up lasting for one week.

This, however, was becoming uncharted territory, having reached the seven day mark. Now, beginning to stay up longer than normal, Cameron’s sleep gradually deteriorating. It took everything in him just to wait for a call. A text. Anything from you indicating you were ready to talk but it never came. The anxiety from simply missing your presence peaked on day twelve at his next home game.

Since that night, you went into overdrive, making yourself busy to avoid that feeling. The lingering craving of wanting him around, needing him next to you, combined with the disappointment you felt. Knowing exactly what you felt when looking at him went far beyond the platonic realm, you refused to indulge. Not if there was any shred of him that only viewed you in a sexual manner, completely disregarding the essence of your connection. Unable to bring yourself to go to his game, you stayed in, choosing those hours to study. To make matters worse, you received a message from an unknown number, grimacing when you realized who it was. You rolled your eyes at the tacky line, fully regretting giving him your information in the heat of the moment. At least that decision to block him came quickly with zero contemplation.

First down came and went and you still weren’t here. Cameron had come to terms with the fact that you weren’t coming. But he didn’t anticipate that throwing him off to the degree it did. One mistake was rare and barely tolerable depending on the severity. Three was a major fuck up in his eyes. He couldn’t reconcile with misalignment in his life. Not with you, not with football, and certainly not at the same time. They still won the game but that didn’t matter to him. Knowing that wasn’t his best was enough to send him down a spiral.

His homeboys noticed his mood shift and suggested going to another party as a remedy. Cameron knew that wouldn’t do anything to take his mind off of the game… nor make the ache that had twisted into a wrench in his chest disappear. But at least it’d keep him busy. Being around other people and thinking about you felt more productive than doing that while he was alone. It was unavoidable though.

Smoking outside with two of his teammates, Cameron only started listening when one of them mentioned Brian.

“He will not shut the fuck up about her”

“At all. It’s starting to piss me off, for real!”

Chiming in, Cameron asked, “who?”

“Some girl he met at his party a couple weeks ago. He trying to be mysterious and shit, talking about she’s cool with his sister”.

Settled into a low buzz now, Cameron completely tuned out everything else they started saying. Falling quiet again, he felt a twinge of jealousy spark, quickly rolling into a steady buildup of anger. It was easy putting two and two together that you were the girl they spoke of. Going back into the party to confront him, he kept it in the back of his mind not to take it past a simple conversation. Despite this, his temper increased the longer it took to find him. Hardly gentle as he glided past people, he stopped upon hearing a random voice yell his name. “Yoooo Cam! Man, what’s up with you?!”

Growing tense, he clenched his jaw, hardening his facial expression as the person approached, walking up to his side. “Haven’t seen you fumble that bad in second quarter before-”. Cameron heard the ringing in his ears become increasingly loud, blocking out the music and conversations around him. He began to move again, ignoring the voice before he reached his tipping point. “Is it the bitch you hang with all the time? What’s her name? She stop giving you pussy or somethi—“, and that final statement was enough to drive him there.

Swinging around to piece him in his jaw, Cameron delivered two more strikes, knocking him off balance. The guy stumbled, landing on the floor before another hit connected. Still moving in to punch him again, Camerons teammates stopped him. Forced to back off now, he jolted out of their grasp, moving to leave the party. He couldn’t bring himself to care about the inevitable consequences of his actions nor about the people standing around murmuring in a hushed tone at the commotion. Not with you flooding his mind.

Traveling back to campus as quickly as possible, he went directly to your apartment. He was contemplating for a minute, standing at the door wondering if he should just leave instead. But before he could talk himself out of it, he knocked. Ears perking up from the couch, you glanced over in the direction. Heading over to open it now, your breath hitched as Cameron came into view. You took in his appearance, worry falling onto your features at the sight of his red eyes sending a quiet plea. “Can we talk? Please…?”

Silently, you nodded, giving him space to come in. He shut the door, beginning to follow as you led him to your room. Sitting on the bed now, you crossed your legs, waiting for him to sit down too. Cameron tentatively walked over, placing himself right in front of you. Quietly asking, “what happened…?”, you were concerned looking at him.

From the side view of his face, you couldn’t fully decipher what was going on, he just seemed off. Gaze scaling down his arm, you reached out, grasping his forearm to look at his knuckle. Heart clenching, you dragged his hand into your lap, gently running your thumb along the light bruise forming. “You got into a fight?”

Cameron finally turned to look at you, his voice catching in his throat when he did. He was fixated on your soft expression and the warmth from your touch before he urged himself to speak. “A small one but that’s not why I came here”. You peered at him intently, almost forgetting why you were initially upset in the first place. Bringing your other hand over to faintly trace the skin on his wrist out of reflex, you signaled you were listening.

“I came to apologize again and tell you the truth…” He gripped your hand, squeezing before voicing, “no matter what though… promise me we’ll still be ok”. His face growing serious now, you became nervous to hear what he had to say.

Mumbling, “I promise”, your heart beat sped up.

“I went about things the wrong way. I’m sorry for how that night went… for making you cry”. A pang of guilt hit his stomach when the image flashed in his head. Tilting your head, you analyzed his expression. You quietly reached the understanding that all of his apologies were genuine, the pain in his eyes unmistakably reflected with his words.

Offering him a small smile, “I forgive you”, dropped from your lips.

“You haven’t heard the truth yet though”

Laughing at his response, you doubled down. “And? I still accept your apology. But continue, I might revoke that depending on how bad it is”. You saw him crack his first smile, visibly relaxing once you lightened the mood. He then gazed in your lap, memorizing how the pads of your fingertips felt along his skin in case things went south again. Feeling an onset of anxiety creep in, he tensed up.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

You were weary now. Cameron was hardly ever this serious. This was your first time seeing him so nervous to tell you something.

Bringing his gaze back to your face, he started, “I meant everything I said when we spoke. The only reason I told them you’re off limits is because I don’t think they’d give you the love you deserve. I don’t ever want you thinking I’m just waiting for an opportunity. That’s not how I feel about you… or what I’m thinking when I look at you”.

Upon seeing his eyes gloss over, you gave him a reassuring squeeze. “What are you thinking about right now…?”

“How much I missed you… how receptive you’d be if I tell you how I really feel”

“Don’t make me guess…” you were curious, rubbing his arm as you urged, “tell me”.

“I need you… Whether I’m with you or simply hearing your voice, that’s all I need”. Cameron felt his heart sink. Maybe it wasn’t too late to say he was joking but he had already gotten this far. “I’m in love with you”.

Looking at him in a state of shock, your smile faded. “Cam…” He grasped your other hand before you could pull away.

Panicked at your reaction, he declared “nothing has to change, we can forget about this conversation, I promise”. Fixing your gaze on his arms, you were quiet. “I just wanted you to know how I really feel about you…” A surge of emotions coming on now, you felt your heart skip a beat. Certain that he made things worse, Cameron started pleading. “Fuck, I’m sorry”. Feeling his throat tighten, he quietly begged, “please, don’t shut me out again, I’m sorry”.

Disconnecting from him, you moved off the bed. Cameron prepared to leave until you walked in between his legs, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Easing into your body, he circled your waist, pulling you close. Still too far apart for his liking, he brought his hands down to your thighs, hauling you up onto his lap. Both lingering in the soothing embrace, you ran your nails along his upper back. Voice muffled, you filled the silence. “What if I feel the same way?” He smiled into your skin, dragging a hand up your spine in response.

Lifting his head to peer at you, he questioned “do you?”

“What do you think…?” You cupped his jaw, turning his head to plant a kiss on his cheek. “I need you just as bad”. Heat creeped up Cameron’s neck from the gesture. He returned it, moving his hands down to squeeze your hips. Stopping yourself from grinding against him, you changed the subject. “Are you staying tonight?”

“You should know better than to ask that. I’m not going anywhere”. Starting to pepper your neck with pecks, he couldn’t hold back his smile. “You don’t know you’re stuck with me now? I got to show you?”

His pecks growing ticklish, a small laugh escaped you. “Nooo, I already was! Is it too late to take it back?!” He paused, staring at you with a blank expression before his smile widened. Clutching your waist for a single moment, he started tickling one side, drawing out more laughter. You squirmed in his lap, but he reinforced his hold, keeping one arm wrapped around your lower back.

He ignored your attempt at pushing his hand away, continuing his movements. A chuckle falling past his lips, he teased, “say that again?!” You started shifting uncontrollably, gripping his arm.

Bubbling out, “s-stop!”, your head fell to his shoulder. Before you could catch your breath, he swiftly switched sides, clutching you closer as his opposite hand began moving.

“Nah say that shit again, I didn’t hear you!” Squeezing your eyes shut as his chuckling rang out, you started patting his arm.

Stuttering out, “p-please”, you involuntarily cinched your knees beside him. Shortly after that, he stopped, reveling as you tried catching your breath. You playfully pushed at his chest, warning, “wait until later. Trust, I’m not forgetting this!”

Nipping at your neck, he goaded, “counting on that”. Emitting a faint moan, your hands dropped to his abdomen. Cameron clenched his jaw, rubbing the flesh on your thighs. He had to wait. Needed to wait until you initiated. Then he’d allow himself to indulge but until then he was grateful taking any instance of closeness from you.

“Go take a shower first, I’m not letting you sleep in my bed with outside clothes”.

“Yes ma’am”.

You had already been ready for bed by the time Cameron showed up at the door. A loose fitting shirt emulating his jersey with a pair of black shorts and fuzzy socks. Finding amusement in the fact he hadn’t made a single comment on it yet, you patiently waited, knowing it was coming at some point. While he was in the shower, you went ahead and grabbed an ice pack and a pair of his sweats from the stash of clothes he kept here.

Hearing footsteps now, you peered in that direction, subtly clenching your thighs when he appeared. With just a towel hanging low on his hips, your eyes focused on his happy trail then down to the imprint curved into the material. Silently exchanging a look, you handed him the pants, turning your body to the side while he got dressed. After a substantial amount of time, you asked, “are you done?” Instead of giving a response, Cameron launched on you, hovering above your back. “This is your second strike by the way”. Shifting under his full weight, you felt the fabric rub along your skin, brushing against his dick in the process. You twisted your hands in the sheets, a swirl of arousal pooling in your stomach. “Move”, slipped out breathier than you’d like.

Staying impossibly still, he leaned in towards your ear. “Say please”.

Biting back a moan, you stated, “No”. Your breath caught in your throat when his length twitched against your ass.

He might’ve just been high on emotions, but Cameron could’ve sworn you moulded perfectly against him. “I’m not moving then”.

Savoring how heavy he felt pressed into your body, you tried crossing your legs to alleviate the pressure building between them. You knew the desire would be bad when it came down to it, but you couldn’t have prepared for this at all. Already feeling your head spin, you plead, “Cam…”

Cameron finally took heed when he saw how flustered you were becoming. Gliding off to sit next to you now, he watched as you sat up, reaching for the ice pack on your nightstand. You wordlessly straddle his lap, pulling his arm in between the space to study his knuckle. “What happened…?” Gazing up after placing the ice over the swelling, you included, “and don’t be vague either”. For as long as you’ve known him, he had always been mild-mannered, not easy to enrage. And if he ever did have those moments, they had been few and far between on the field.

Resting his other hand on your thigh, he began kneading the skin for comfort. “random person ended up approaching me at a party talking about my performance in the game then mentioned you, that’s it”

You were curious but you wouldn’t even bother asking Cameron what the guy said. He wouldn’t budge if it was something disrespectful. Seeing his mood shift, he averted his gaze and went quiet. To prevent him from falling into the same pattern of overthinking, you attempted to nudge him. Softening your voice to ask, “is it the game…?”, you started wondering if you could’ve been the cause. “Or me…?”

At the sound of your tone, Cameron raised his head, spotting a glint of worry behind your eyes. Shaking his head, he encompassed your waist. “It’s not you I just— I should’ve done better… the amount of mistakes I made…”. His mind veered off, replaying each one in full detail.

Drifting your hand to his abdomen, you soothingly rubbed along the planes on his stomach. “How many?”

“Three…” he looked down at his hand, avoiding your gaze again.

You shook your head at his answer. “You push yourself way too hard”. Cupping his jaw to tip his face up, you rubbed circles into his skin, continuing to speak. “Making a few mistakes in one game doesn’t reflect on your value as a player. I’d be a tad concerned if you never made any mistakes at all”.

Staring at you with a smitten gaze, he cracked a smile. “How do you do that hm?”

Spotting the playful glimmer in his eyes, you raised a brow. “Do what?”

“Always saying the right stuff. No matter the situation, you always do that… how?”

You shrug, “I have my moments, I don’t know”, ending your response with a smile.

Cameron laughed, shifting the ice pack off his hand to wrap both his arms around you. Pulling you in for a hug, he muttered into your neck, “thank you”.

Flush against him now, your arms circled his neck. “You’re welcome”.

His hands trailed up your spine, running along the fabric of your shirt. This one had his number engraved on both sides. “I like the pajamas by the way, you look good”. He couldn’t see the vindicated smile that had formed on your face, but he felt the vibration from your laugh.

“Thank you, I like them too”.

Cameron realized out of all the evenings he spent with you, not once has he seen you wear it for sleep. “Had no idea you wore the merch to bed. I bet you do this shit a lot don’t you?”

“Don’t get cocky!” You both laughed after you spoke. After a small pause, you reluctantly admitted, “but yes... maybe”. Knowing there was a minuscule chance you’d regret telling him the reason, you did so anyway. “Makes me feel close to you… and it really is just comfortable honestly”.

Warmth filling his chest now, Cameron leaned back to get a look at you with a heavy glaze of affection in his eyes. Wetting his lips, he asked, “you missed me…?”

Holding back tears at the expression he wore, you swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding. Adjusting your place in his lap to get even closer, you whispered, “Talking to you, watching you play, all of it…”. Cameron pressed a kiss to your cheek, moving his hands down to massage your thighs. You did the same, peppering kisses across his jaw before placing a light one on his mouth. As soon as you pulled back, he followed, reconnecting your lips.

Feeling his hands drift up to your ass, you moaned when his length grazed the fabric of your shorts. Pulsing around nothing, a dull ache set in your core. You deepened the kiss, bringing one hand over to rest in his cheek. Cameron groaned, twitching underneath you as a sharp pang of thirst hit his stomach. Spurred on now, you rolled your hips, grounding against his dick at a gradual pace. Parting for air, you continued your movements, watching his reaction with every motion.

The sight was enough to send your mind reeling. Eyes hanging low and mouth parted, Cameron guided you back and forth. Slipping your hand down to his neck, you tip his jaw up slightly, tracing your thumb across the skin. The two of you exchanging soft breaths while staring, a whimper spilled out of you when one particular circle caused him to nudge your clit. Despite the boundaries of the fabric being thin, it was still too much.

Momentarily disconnecting from him to pull your shirt off, Cameron’s breath hitched. Eyes dropping to your breast, he squeezed your hips, mumbling in a hushed tone, “so beautiful”. You circled his shoulders again, leaning in flush against him now. He lapped at the sensitive spot below your ear, sucking and nipping to form a love bite. Mouth falling open to let a moan out, your movement faltered. Your nails raked along his skin as he traveled up to your jaw, inching towards your lips.

Cameron trailed his hands back down to your ass, finding a steady flow grinding you back and forth. The friction paired with the glide of his tongue began to cause your arousal to seep through the material. Dropping one of your arms to grasp his bicep, you clung to him as the pressure grew. He briefly parted to teasingly bite your bottom lip before reattaching. Starting to knead your flesh again, he brought out another moan from you.

Knowing he was close to the edge, Cameron halted your movements, attempting to prolong it until he no longer could. Breathing heavy, he checked, “you want to continue...?”

You nodded, responding “yes”, before involuntarily cinching your legs beside him.

“Can I taste you then…?” He already looked halfway intoxicated taking in your features. Rubbing smooth circles into the skin on your waist, his voice came out in a quiet tone. “Want to make you feel good…”.

You thumb at his bottom lip, the image of his face stuffed between your legs sending a tingle through your stomach. Nodding again, you moved out of his lap to lay down. He settled on top of you in between your legs, planting lingering kisses on your neck. Grasping his arms, your mouth parted when he sucked on your breast. Cameron flicked his tongue over your nipple, gently swirling the bud in between his teeth before drawing his attention to next, giving it the same love. Treading lower now, he showered your stomach with pecks until reaching the waistband of your shorts. His eyes were glued as he slowly dragged them off your legs.

Wetting his lips at the sight, he parted your thighs. Lying on the bed now, he drew his gaze up your body, leaving open mouthed kisses on each leg. Rubbing his forearms circled around your flesh, you met his eyes with a soft smile. Any sort of constraint he had flew out the window when he tasted you. Licking a long stripe from your entrance to clit, he rolls his tongue around it. You drop one hand in the sheets, bracing yourself after seeing the switch behind his pupils.

Dipping back down to stuff you, Cameron’s nose nudged your clit with every curl of his tongue. Setting a steady rhythm, his groan reverberated through your body. Chest rising and falling, you squeezed his arm, breathing out a quiet, “fuck”. He watched your reactions closely, noting the involuntary twitch in your thighs when he lapped at your bud. The way your bottom lip quivered before you bit it.

Your head lolled back into the pillows when he tightened his hold, pushing your thighs flush against him. Alternating between slow and fast movements, he gathered your arousal with every stroke. Back arching now, you twisted your hand in the sheets, attempting to roll your hips in tandem. The pressure in your stomach growing immensely, you released a shaky moan, shutting your eyes. Cameron flattened his tongue on your clit, motioning his head side to side before increasing the pace.

Relentless in his pursuit to make you orgasm, he latched onto your bud, rapidly flicking his tongue around it. Reaching a hand up to simultaneously massage your breast, he rolled each nipple between his thumb and index finger before palming one. Bringing your hand out of the sheets, you clung to him, digging your nails into his arm. Brows furrowing, you plead, “d- don’t stop”. Cameron was aching, desperate for relief as he twitched in his sweats. The friction from the covers only made it worse.

With another stimulating flick of his tongue triggering your orgasm, your thighs trembled around his head. Emitting a loud moan, you writhed under him while he continued. He smothered himself, delving in between your folds to catch all of your juices. Through the aftershocks of pleasure, the vibration from his groan caused you to peer down. The sight made your stomach tense again, sending a tremor up your spine. Mouth moving slowly now, his eyes were closed to fully savor everything you gave him. Squeezing his arms, you uttered, “Cam- “.

Cameron opened his eyes, the sound of your voice catching his attention. He massaged each breast again before grabbing your hip. Reluctantly detaching, he lifted himself up from his position. Palming your thighs, his voice held a rasp. “Too much?” Still in a dazed state, you were silent for a second as you looked at him. Everything about him was enough to send a spiral through your core but seeing him look so sated with half his face covered in your slick was an entirely different experience.

Needy for more, you shook your head no, reaching out for him. Eager to close the distance, he settled on top of you, melding your lips together. Tasting yourself on his tongue sent another whirl of heat through your stomach. Trailing your nails along his back, you parted to breathe out, “lay down”. He listened, rolling off to lay next to you. Cameron watched you kneel next to him, dipping your finger in the waistband of his sweats. “Can I…?” Immediately nodding in response, his heart raced at the thought.

You had already assumed he must’ve been well endowed from a few glimpses of his print, yet you still weren’t prepared when you tugged on his pants. Cameron saw the gears turning in your head. Your thighs shifted for relief when he came into view. Lengthy with a slight curve, good girth, and a few prominent veins throbbing when he twitched. Throwing your leg over his waist to straddle him now, you sat on his lap, placing your hands on his chest. He grasped your hips, letting out a harsh breath as you glide his dick in between your folds. After taking a minute to admire how he looked, you sealed your lips over his, continuing the back and forth motion.

Breathing out against his lips, “you want to feel what you do to me?”, Cameron twitched, feeling a bead of precum dribble out onto his abdomen.

Begging with his eyes, he murmured a low, “please”.

Running your hand up his neck to cup his jaw, you tilted his head, pressing a line of kisses on his cheek. Once you reached his ear you sweetened your tone. “Please what…?” You released a quiet moan when he unintentionally caused his tip to graze your clit from a desperate jerk of his hips.

Applying more pressure to your waist, it took everything in him not to buck his hips in sync. “Please let me feel you…”. He tilted his head in your direction, nudging your cheek with his nose. “Please…”.

Turning your head to connect your lips, the kiss quickly deepened. Lifting your hips to leave enough space, you nipped at his bottom lip, voicing, “go ahead”. Cameron took your cue, reaching underneath your thigh to line himself up with your entrance. Beginning to gradually descend, you kept your gaze focused on his face to distract yourself from the increasing stretch. Lips parted in awe with his eyes zoned in on yours, he was officially gone. You blinked a few times, clenching around his dick after he fully bottomed out. Though the pressure was there, your arousal had soothed the feeling. Doing an experimental roll to test the pain, all you were met with was pleasure coiling tight in your stomach.

Unable to hold in a throaty groan, his hands wandered down to your ass then your thighs, gripping on for some sort of stability. Eyes threatening to roll back, he shut them. It was too much. The warmth and wetness coming from your walls… how perfect you looked in this position… then you started to move. Raising till just his tip was left inside, you came back down in one motion. Feeling you trail your hand over towards his cheek, Cameron heard you moan out, “look at me”. He listened, grunting when you repeated the action.

Both of your hands gravitating down to his chest, you start a steady rocking motion. Fluttering around his length, you moan, “Keep them just like that”. His eyes appearing even more hooded at this angle, he maintained heavy eye contact, watching you gyrate on him. “Can u do something for me baby?” Your voice was breathless, trying to contain how close you were already.

Cameron nodded, “anything”.

“Tell me when you’re close”. You did one last roll of your hips, planting your hands towards his shoulders. Digging your knees firmly into the bed, you repeatedly bounced up and down, gaining extra traction with his guidance. Watching as he struggled keeping his eyes open now, your lips quivered when he skimmed your g-spot. His breath was staggered, each slip back down sending a ripple of arousal traveling through his body. Pulsating at the feeling, you whimper, “F-fuck, Cam”. The vulgar wet noise increasing with every impale only spurred you on.

His gaze drifted lower, zoning in on your arousal pooling at the base of his dick. Hoarsely stuttering, “I-I’m close baby”, Cameron pulled you in flush against him. Firmly curling one arm around your waist, he gripped the back of your thigh with his free hand. Your head dropped to his shoulder, a high pitched moan tumbling out at the skin to skin contact. Continuing to guide your hips in a rocking motion, he kept your body locked in place, beginning to thrust upward, meeting you each time you sunk back down.

Chiming against his ear, “hold it”, your stomach thrummed as the knot tightened, threatening to come undone with every angled thrust. Vision slipping and the noises becoming uncontrollable now, you clawed down his abdomen. He flexed under your touch, speeding up the pace.

Everything felt too good. Your breasts swaying on his chest… your uneven pants for air flowing out directly into his ear drum… the rhythmic pattern of your pulses… everything. Through the influx of sensation, Cameron twitched, mumbling something incoherent in response. Sounding like a mixture of a groan and a plea, he repeated himself. “I can’t—”, exhaling with a grunt.

Voice trembling with your unsteady breath, you moan, “You said you’d do anything…”

Upon hearing your tone, Cameron quickly jumbled off, “I will, f-fuck I will, you know that”.

Whimpering, “show me”, that was all Cameron needed. He caught you off guard, snapping his hips up at an alarming speed now. Desperately grasping onto his arm, your body shook. Before your impending orgasm completely took over, you managed to stutter, “you can—, o-oh fuck, you can cum Cam! You can cum baby!”

As his entire body tensed, he was able to murmur a quiet, “thank you”, finishing with a hoarse groan. The sudden feeling of your palm resting on his cheek paired with one more drag of your hips made him swell. Nothing measured up to the way you felt wrapped around him. You clamped down hard, warmth oozing from your core and treading throughout your body, you closed your eyes. Shuddering, he coated your walls, prolonging your orgasm. You two came back down after several moments of listening to the quick thrum of your heartbeats. Starting to rub soft circles onto your skin, he kissed your shoulder. “How do you feel?”

Emitting a sigh of content, you hum, “like I could run ten laps. Of course, not physically right now but internally? Yeah”. Snickering when his laugh vibrated against your body, you lifted your head. “What about you hm?”

“Feel the exact same”. You leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss on his lips before resting your head back on his shoulder.

After cleaning up and getting comfortable under the covers now, you draped your leg over his hip. You focused on his chest, eyes absentmindedly following the movement of your finger trailing side to side. With his head slightly tilted down to see you clearly, Cameron was staring. He held onto your thigh, pondering over the proper way to make things official. Assuming that was already clear and asking outright at the moment both seemed too casual for options but he needed you to know he was serious. Breaking the silence, he blurted, “Can I take you out on a date today?” Heart rate speeding up when you lifted your eyes to meet his gaze, he cleared his throat, adding “in the evening I mean. For dinner if you’re free…?”

Lips curling into a smile, you noticed the thread of nervousness in his voice. Refraining from making a joke, you simply nodded, “and where will we be going?”

“I have a new place in mind. I promise you’ll like it though”.

“Oh, I see…”, you squinted, humming in response. “You must be trying to surprise me if that’s all the info I get”.

“I am”. He chuckled, “don’t expect me to tell you, it’s not going to work!”

You were well versed in pulling information out of him. “I won’t pry, I swear!” Despite his words, it would be extremely easy to get it out of him if you persisted. Deciding against doing so, you’d let him have this one and simmer in your curiosity until later. Your face subtly began to morph into concern when you spotted his eye bags. Making sure you were seeing properly, you tipped his chin downward, getting a closer look. “Have you been sleeping…?”

He hesitated before voicing, “Yeah”.

“Cam…”

His eyes briefly glanced away. “I have… not well but I have”. Seeing a small frown develop now, he tried to offset the mood with a laugh. “What? How bad do they look?!”

“It’s not that they look bad, I just— “, you paused, moving your hand back down to his chest. “I didn’t think you’d be losing sleep”.

“Shit I already knew when I left that night. Was gonna call you out of reflex so many times but I was really trying to give you space”. Breaking into a fit of laughter, you leaned against him, hiding your face. He began laughing with you, confused at your reaction. “What?”

After your laugh died down, you moved back, admitting, “I was too. I almost caved on like the third day, but I figured you wouldn’t feel like talking and I didn’t know what to say…”

“So, we went two weeks…” Briefly exchanging a similar look when the realization set in that the misery was mutual, you both immediately broke into a fit of laughter. “That can never happen again. Everything felt off during that time”.

Cameron chuckled when you extended your pinky. “Promise me right now that if we ever find ourselves no contact again, one of us will break the ice if it reaches three days”.

“I’m never letting that happen again but— “, he connected your pinkies, “I promise”. You leaned in, pressing a kiss on them to seal the deal. He did the same, muttering, “just for good measure”, before giving your lips a peck. Smiling against his mouth, you gave him another. Then one more until he caressed your cheek, pulling you closer.

Thank you for reading, feedback is always appreciated!

BEFORE THE CASE

“You’re so smart, Cameron. Devastatingly intelligent. And yet, you can’t see that your parents would rend the heavens themselves--with Olympus and every god of land and sea—just to see you win. Why would they allow you to drop the mantle they carried like a generational bruise?

“Why would they allow you to know what struggle feels like, when they broke every stronghold in advance so you would never touch the ground? Your mind may have gotten you to the threshold but know this—your parents kicked down the door, cleared the smoke, and crowned you before you took your first breath. So, shine on, Golden Boy. Blind the world with your power and privilege, and unusual allegiance to these deranged institutions while proclaiming justice and peace.

You’re a walking contradiction, Cade.”

I – The Grant

Attending university seemed like a star in the Milky Way—only achievable by rocket science and calculations reviewed by experts. An opportunity, a chance, that seemed few and far between. But when the letter of her acceptance on a full-ride academic scholarship to her top-choice university arrived at her door like a gift from the divine, she knew favor was on her side.

Four years. Grueling. Tiresome. Rewarding.

Because of the sleepless nights, budgets wound tighter than a spring, and the prayers of a righteous mother, grace carried her across the stage on a rainy day in May with her neck heavy with medallions and heart swelling with pride. That day rolled out the red carpet toward the bigger dream—law school.

Months of preparation for the LSAT tore her away from friends. It left margaritas unmade at the restaurant, had seats on airplanes empty, and library seats too accustomed to her favorite pair of leggings. Tears watered the seeds planted by her mother’s gentle affirmations and grandmother’s wildest dreams.

Lael Cosette was accepted to law school.

But not without its own trials and tribulations. Partial scholarship. Merit-based support fell short. Until a new opportunity arose.

Another opportunity to gather the ducks lost along the way. Another chance to bridge the gap between hope and reality. A scholarship. Endowed by private sponsors of the university’s law program. Willing and generous enough to provide $50,000 for a young pupil to refuel the tank drained by capitalism and lack of caffeine.

She applied. With fervor and zeal. Only for devastation to weigh her down like a blanket the moment her joint study session was disrupted by the email. Tears welled in her eyes and fell down her cheeks like a waterfall, flooding the flashcards half-bent under the weight of her forearms.

“Hey, hey.” Warmth filled her space, but that didn’t stop the shiver that ran down her spine. His cologne was soft as it flooded her senses. “What happened?” He bowed before her reverently, palms heavy against her thighs as he whispered the sweetest somethings.

Lael mumbled incoherently behind damp hands, “Nothing. Didn’t pass the exam.”

Lie. She passed. Aced it. He knew she was lying. And didn’t press. The beginning of deterioration.

She found out weeks later that he, Cameron Cade, was named the victor in the eyes of the scholarship board. $50,000 ground to liquid gold and spoon-fed to a man who’d only eaten from silver since his first breath.

Closeness met distance. Coolness suffocated warmth. Understanding was crushed under bitterness.

Until nothing remained of a once destined union written in the stars.

II – The Firm

She arrived with fury in her eyes and lightning beneath her wings. Vengeance on her mind and violence in her fingertips.

There was something to prove. To others? No. To herself? Everything. That reclamation didn’t come from firm handshakes and fake smiles that dropped the moment she turned her back.

It was earned. Through preparation. Through discipline. Through something that cost her.

She’d given up enough. What was something else?

Junior Associate. Not the big dog—not yet. But her bite was still strong. Dangerous.

And she smiled at that. Her weapons were still on the blacksmith’s anvil. At rest until they were meant to be wielded.

Until then—she’d do what she’d done best. Fight. And win.

III – The Case

Power didn’t boom like thunder crackling through the night sky in Cade Cosette Merrin Lowell Shaw.

It didn’t scream or announce itself.

It hummed and crackled low in the steady pulse of a pressure cooker, squeezing tension to the surface. Lived in glass walls and marble floors that squeaked beneath the soles of expensive Italian leather shoes and red bottoms, required uniforms on a battlefield where brilliance sharpened itself for battle.

It lingered beneath the morning sun, encapsulated by glass, trembling as the footsteps of mighty titans thundered down the hallway, the light bending toward their shadows in reverence as they turned a sharp corner.

The conference room, the pit that swallowed five giants every day once the horizon dipped below the curve of Earth, rattled as they entered, one by one.

Cade. Cosette. Merrin. Lowell. Shaw.

Five names carved into black stone like scripture. Five legacies. Five storms learning, unwillingly, to orbit.

And yet power didn’t shift here; it circled. Slow. Predatory. Waiting for one misstep between Lael Cosette and Cameron Cade.

Lael stood at the head of the long oak table crafted by artisan hands, fingers resting on a stack of organized files—stillness masquerading as calm beneath a rabid storm. Stillness that lied. The kind of predator that maintains itself before a vicious kill.

She heard him before he spoke. The quiet, confident cadence. The soft exhale of someone who never had to raise his voice to command a room.

“Your prosecution was…” Cameron paused, searching for the right word, as if the right word would bend her spine a fraction. “…unfair.”

Lael didn’t turn. Didn’t blink. Dark eyes remained locked on the pages before her, though she no longer saw a single word.

Her nostrils flared. Her finger paused on the page. Her spine stood rigid.

Instead, she saw him—his privileged posture, his polished certainty, his lineage stitched into every syllable like a watermark he didn’t know he carried.

A humorless laugh slipped from her throat. Hit the ground with a heavy thud—something between a laugh and a long-forgotten wound unraveling.

“Grow a thicker layer of skin, Cade,” she retorted, her voice velvet dipped in venom. The metal barrel of a pen was heavier than legal textbooks and more expensive than the overtly large gold watch that wrapped around his wrist. “Part of the game. You either know how to play, or you don’t. Do you?”

She didn’t have to look up to know he was straining. Jaw wound tight like a string. Fingers clenching at his side. Inhaling and exhaling like an amateur student in a yoga class—bit off more than he could chew.

Cameron’s exhale was heavy. Rugged as the carpet beneath their feet, that yelped with each press of her heel into the fabric. His nostrils flared. Foot tapped against the ground like a bull ready to charge at its prey. “I play it well. It’s how I know you’re playin’ dirty, and for what? Unfair.”

Her palm hovered over the pen until it clattered against the glass table. A crack in the foundation. Vulnerability leaking at the seams.

“So was the scholarship.” Heat struck behind her eyes. The Earth was scorched by a ring of fire, blazing everything in its path like vengeance armed with flames. It destroyed the tender ground and plowed toward the seas—he stepped back.

She inhaled deeply.

The storms rolled in. Heavy. Powerful. Flooded her until she sank beneath words lodged in her throat.

She didn’t say anything else. But he heard her clearly.

The fire seared the seas with rage.

You, Cameron Cade, are insufferable.

IV – The Revelation

They were alone.

No conference table. No observers. No buffer of glass or marble.

Lael circled her desk slowly. Her nails whispered against the dark wood as she planted herself in front of him

Firm. Immovable. Unshakeable.

“You’re not Ares.

You are not an immovable god haloed with the reverence of patrons. Administrations don’t bend at the whisper of your name. Governments don’t flee like you’re vengeance in cashmere and Italian leather.

No, Cameron.

I am vengeance. I am war manifested, justice personified. I am the verdict you never prepared for.”

She didn’t raise her voice.

“And you.”

A pause.

“You are Achilles. A presumably mighty warrior with a simple weakness that will destroy you from root to tip. And that weakness, Cameron Cade, is you.”

Silence.

“You think you’re the storm. I’m the weather.”

Another pause. Smaller now. Equally heavy.

“I am the hell and the high water you should have learned to flee.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it.

“And yet,” she continued, quieter, “Here I stand. Across from a man, the bright-eyed heir to an empire undeserving, waiting for life to spoon-feed him another victory he didn’t bleed for. Who mistakes inheritance for merit.”

She looked at him then. Finally.

“Tell me, Cameron. Where are your wounds?”

V – The Verdict

“I’m sorry.”

The words were quiet. Not rehearsed. Not elevated. Quiet.

“I am so sorry.”

Lael didn’t respond. Couldn’t. Not with a heavy sob bundled in her throat, waiting for her jaw to unhinge, desperate for release.

“I didn’t know,” he continued. “I didn’t need it. But that doesn’t change anything. I don’t get to undo it. I don’t get to make it right.” His breath caught on words he’d never thought he’d say. “I am so sorry you suffered because of my name.”

Silence pressed in.

Cameron took a step.

Then another.

He stopped just short of her space, like he was checking if the distance mattered—it did. It mattered the moment they stepped on campus nearly ten years ago and it mattered now, when the flames settled to embers, pulsing under tension.

She trembled then, finally. An involuntary break. Her lip bobbed as her eyes searched his face, searched for a lie, and an opportunity to yell “gotcha!” Darkness scoured the seas for, quick and sharp, looking for the smallest fraction of a tell that showed a slither of disingenuousness. Something, a justification, that she could tear open.

Humility.

She came face-to-face with humility. Pity, maybe? No, not that. Humility. Raw and open, waiting for salt to be dumped in a wound where he’d never known to be cut.

His eyes had changed. Not piercing like the seas hiding the lost kingdom. Softer now. Open sky. A place where nothing was sheathed.

When he lifted his hand, it was slow. Deliberate. His thumb brushed the tear from her cheek before it fell, then caught another at her waterline, her dark eyeliner sliding down his skin.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again. Softer. Familiar. “I’m sorry, baby.”

Lael turned away from him, her cheek brushing against his suit jacket.

Some victories weren’t meant to be shared.

Only understood.

For now, that was enough.

-

the summer 95' was blazing. you were the main lead in a black film called “poetic justice” a raw, love story that had hollywood shook. and your co-star? tupac shakar? being the sexy, hip-hop idol he was had hollywood even more shook and he was your love interest in the film as well. the chemistry on the screen was amazing, off screen was strictly platonic and you knew that but pac was a flirt at heart.

you have been dating micheal, quietly for almost a year. he was in his dangerous/HIStory era and still the king of pop and the king of your heart. he’d fly in when he could to watch the process of the film and mainly watch you. he loved how passionate you were with acting and you just loved the weight of his stare on you, and your job.

today, michael had flown into atlanta. he showed up in his classic, black shades and hair in a low ponytail like always. he thought he blended into the background but he stuck out like a sore thumb. many of the crew walked up and asked for a autograph but he simply stated that this was your day, gosh you love him so much.

once you spotted him, you eyes lit up like a child noticing their parents at their baseball game. he put his thumb up, flashing his smile that made you weak in the knees.

it was time to film a scene. the scene consisted of your character, justice, getting into a heated argument with tupac’s character, lucky. pac, being pac only stayed in character for a little while before cracking a smile at you, making both of you break character.

“damn, ma. I’m tryna keep my composure but you over here smiling n ' being cute n ' shit.” tupac cackles fill the set as your lips tugged into a grin as well. tupac licked his lips before continuing his antics.

“nah foreal tho, he should take these lines and go to my trailer, private rehearsal, you feel me.” he joked. you rolled your eyes, hands on hips.

“whatever, save it for the camera. m’kay?” before you could say anything else, your feel hands slip around your waist making you jump a little. he didn’t say anything at first, just letting his possessive yet smooth presence speak for itself for a moment.

The air shifted quickly.

michael held eye contact with tupac for a little bit. tupac’s smirk falters, before sizing michael up and down with a slight grin but cautious of his facial expressions.

“pac.” michael says, softly but still had a edge underneath. he gave pac a slight nod, “heard you been talking good care of my girl on camera.” a pause. “appreciate that. just remember.. the scene ends when the director says cut.”

it was subtle and blunt, exactly how michael is. no yelling or cussing necessary.

tupac blinked, then let out a short laugh, hands up in a surrender. “whoa.. whoa alright, partna,” he said chuckling but taking a step back. “I’m not tryna move up on you girl, man. my bad. respect. I was just playin’ with her, you know how I do. energy for the scene and shit.”

micheal tilted his head, slightly then breaking out in a smile which was funny and scary. “good. wouldn’t want any misunderstandings.”

you bit your lips before continuing to keep from laughing at the look on pac’s face. the encounter was funny and hot at the same time.

pac rubbed the back of his before speaking, “aight, ima go run my lines. enjoy the break.” he says before walking away towards his trailer.

as soon as tupac was out of your sight you sharply turned around in his arms, hands come to smack him on his chest. “baby, you did not have to do him like that!.” you told him, dying of laughter.

michael chuckled, softly. he pulled you closer, throwing that boyish grin at you. “he’s talented, but he needs to know where the line is.” his fingers traced your jaw, admiring you a bit before tilting your head up at him. “your mine on and off screen, honey.”

your heart fluttered, hand coming up to raise michael’s sunglasses on his head. “jealousy looks sexy on you, you know that?”

he raised his eyebrows, lips brushing against yours. “only for you, darling”

later that afternoon , during the second take, tupac put a break in his flirtatious nature and kept it strictly professional. no ad-libs or anything… well he still would manage to crack his jokes but they weren’t in any way flamboyant. after wrap, pac gave michael a respectful head nod on his way out but stopped to tell you something.

“tell your man I’m cool, I don’t want to get beat up by tito, jackie, and all dem niggas.” you busted out laughing at his confession and nodded.

“sure thing, pac.” he gave you one last smile before heading out.

you found michael in your trailer, afterwards. he was sitting down on a couch when you slipped in his lap, tiredly. “you were such a hero, saving me from the big bad rapper.”

michael pecked your lips. “I’ll moonwalk on anyone who forgets you’re taken.”

you laughed. “moonwalk michael? you’re stupid.”

“only for you, mama.” he kissed yours again.

“only for you.” he whispered once again, pulling you in a longer kiss.

For months, the internet had been trying to find Ceedee a girlfriend.

It started as jokes at first. Harmless posts after games, clips of him walking through tunnels in sunglasses and designer jackets, edits of him smiling on the sideline, comments under videos from fans who had entirely too much time on their hands.

Somebody get this man a wife.

CeeDee looks like he needs a soft girl at home.

Why is he always outside looking single?

At first, you thought it was funny.

Mostly because you were usually watching those comments while sitting on the couch in his hoodie, your swollen feet tucked under a blanket, your baby kicking against your ribs while Ceedee moved around the kitchen trying to cook something that was supposed to be dinner.

He would glance over when you laughed at your phone, already suspicious.

“What they saying now?”

You’d read one out loud, barely holding back your smile. “They said you need a wife.”

Ceedee would look over his shoulder at you, eyebrows raised, cutting board in front of him and a dish towel thrown over one shoulder like somebody’s fine uncle at a cookout.

“They late.”

You would hold up your left hand, the small diamond on your finger catching the kitchen light. “Very late.”

That was the part nobody knew.

Not the fans. Not the blogs. Not most of the internet. Not even some of the people around the league.

Ceedee Lamb was not single.

He had not been single for a long time.

He had you.

And more recently, he had a son.

A tiny, warm, sleepy little boy with his father’s eyes, your nose, and the incredible ability to turn one of the most confident players in the NFL into a whispering, emotional mess at three in the morning.

You had agreed to keep everything private for as long as you could. Not hidden, exactly. Ceedee hated that word. He had never made you feel like a secret. He took care of you loudly in the ways that mattered. Your family knew. His family knew. The people closest to you knew. You were in his house, his heart, his plans, his prayers.

But the public?

That was different.

The public wanted ownership. It wanted details before it offered respect. It wanted faces, timelines, names, captions, speculation. Ceedee had seen enough of what happened when athletes gave too much of their private life away. One picture turned into a headline. One headline turned into opinions. One opinion turned into strangers speaking on a woman they did not know.

And once you got pregnant, he became even more protective.

“Baby don’t need all that noise,” he said one night, his palm resting carefully against your stomach while you lay beside him in bed.

You looked over at him. “The baby or me?”

“Both.”

His voice was soft, but there was no room for argument in it.

So you stayed quiet. You enjoyed your pregnancy in peace. You went to appointments with him sneaking in through side doors when he could, his big hand wrapped around yours, his eyes going wide every time he heard the heartbeat like it was the first miracle the world had ever produced. You watched him build the crib himself even though it took twice as long because he refused to admit the instructions were confusing. You watched him fold tiny onesies with a concentration he normally reserved for game film.

Then your son was born.

And for a while, the world outside your little house simply stopped mattering.

Ceedee cried when he held him.

He tried to hide it at first, turning slightly away like you hadn’t already seen the tears in his eyes. But when the nurse placed that tiny bundle against his chest, something in him gave way. His shoulders lowered, his face softened, and he stared down at his son like every loud thing in his life had finally gone quiet.

“Hey, little man,” he whispered, voice breaking. “I’m your daddy.”

You were exhausted, sweaty, emotional, and so in love with both of them that your chest hurt.

From that day forward, Ceedee became even harder to recognize to people who only knew him as number 88.

At home, he was gentle. Careful. Ridiculously clingy with the baby. He learned how to swaddle, how to warm bottles, how to support his head, how to walk slow circles around the living room at night when your son refused to sleep anywhere except against his chest.

Sometimes you would wake up in the early morning and find him sitting in the nursery chair, shirtless, baby asleep against him, one large hand covering nearly the entire little back.

“You were supposed to wake me,” you’d whisper from the doorway.

He would look up, tired but peaceful. “I had him.”

“You have practice.”

“I know.”

“You need sleep.”

“So do you.”

And that would be the end of it because Cee, despite what fans thought, had already decided fatherhood was not something he was going to half-do.

Still, as the season went on, the rumors got louder.

It seemed like every week there was a new post. Some model liked one of his pictures. Some influencer posted from Dallas and suddenly fans had them married. A woman sat near the cowboys family section and the internet zoomed in like the FBI. Teammates started joking too, mostly because they thought his private life was empty.

“You need somebody, man,” one of them said in the locker room after a game, tossing a towel toward his stall. “You too quiet after wins. Go celebrate.”

Ceedee looked down at his phone where you had just sent him a picture of your son sleeping in a little Cowboys onesie.

He smiled to himself.

“Nah,” he said. “I’m good.”

Another teammate laughed. “That’s the problem. You always good. Somebody gotta humble you.”

He locked his phone and slid it into his bag. “I’m plenty humbled.”

They didn’t understand.

How could they?

They didn’t see him at home trying to change a diaper without waking the baby. They didn’t see you half-asleep in bed, curls wrapped up, wearing one of his old shirts, whispering for him to come lie down because he had been standing over the bassinet for ten minutes just watching the baby breathe.

They didn’t see how fast he came home.

That was the part that started bothering him.

Not the jokes. Not really.

It was the way people kept painting him as available when he knew exactly who he belonged to. It was watching strangers flirt openly online, watching fans talk about him needing a woman, watching blogs attach his name to people he had never even met while you sat quietly in the background recovering from childbirth, loving him, raising his son, protecting his peace.

The breaking point came from a podcast clip.

One of his teammates was guesting, laughing about how Ceedee was “too single for his own good.” The room laughed. The host made a comment about women lining up for him. Somebody said he needed to settle down before he got caught up.

He watched the clip once.

Then he watched your face as you pretended it didn’t bother you.

You were sitting on the couch with the baby curled against your chest, one hand rubbing slow circles over his back. Your expression barely changed, but he knew you. He knew when something landed. You didn’t have to cry for him to understand that it stung.

He took the phone from your hand and set it facedown on the coffee table.

“Dee,” you said softly, “it’s not that serious.”

He sat beside you, eyes on the baby first, then on you. “It is to me.”

You sighed, shifting carefully so your son stayed asleep. “They don’t know.”

“They about to.”

Your eyes lifted to his. “What?”

He leaned back against the couch, jaw tight, gaze serious in a way that made your stomach flutter.

“I’m tired of everybody speaking on my life like you not in it.”

Your heart softened immediately. “I’m in it where it matters.”

“I know that.” He reached over, brushing his thumb gently along your cheek. “But I don’t like you having to sit there quiet while people act like I’m out here looking for something I already got.”

You looked down at the baby, his tiny fist curled into the fabric of your shirt.

“We said we wanted privacy.”

“We can still have privacy,” Ceedee said. “But privacy don’t mean I let people play in your face.”

His voice stayed calm, but you could hear the emotion beneath it. Protective. Frustrated. Certain.

You studied him for a long moment. “What are you thinking?”

He glanced toward the baby again, and the tension in his expression softened. “Family tunnel walk.”

Your eyebrows rose.

“Dee.”

“What?”

“With the baby?”

“With my son,” he corrected gently. “And his mama.”

The words slipped into the room and settled there.

His son.

His mama.

Your throat tightened. “That’s a lot.”

“I know.”

“Once people see him, they’re going to talk.”

“They already talk.” He leaned closer. “At least this time they’ll be talking about the truth.”

You wanted to argue, but there was something in his face that stopped you. Ceedee wasn’t asking to show off. He wasn’t trying to make a headline. He was tired of letting the world create versions of his life while the most important part of it stayed invisible.

Still, he softened when he saw the worry in your eyes.

“If you say no, we don’t do it,” he said. “I mean that. I’m not putting you or him out there unless you’re okay.”

That was why you loved him.

Because even when he was protective, he never confused protection with control.

You looked down at your son, sleepy and warm against you, then back at the man who had loved you quietly for years and was finally ready to love you publicly too.

“Okay,” you whispered.

Ceedee’s face changed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You smiled gently. “Let’s pop out.”

The slow grin that spread across his face was dangerous.

“Pop out?”

“Don’t make me take it back.”

He laughed, leaning in to kiss your forehead first, then the baby’s.

“Too late.”

Game day arrived colder than expected.

You stood in the bedroom wearing a fitted cream sweater dress, long coat, and boots, turning slightly in the mirror while trying not to overthink everything. Your hair was styled soft around your face, makeup warm and pretty, jewelry simple except for the bracelet Dee had given you after the baby was born. Your son was dressed in a tiny custom denim jacket with LAMB stitched on the back.

When Ceedee walked in and saw both of you, he stopped.

He actually stopped.

You looked over. “What?”

He shook his head slowly, eyes moving from you to the baby and back again. “Y’all look too good.”

“You say that like it’s a problem.”

“It is.” He walked closer, already dressed for the tunnel in dark jeans, a designer jacket, chain sitting against his shirt, looking entirely too fine for someone about to stress you out. “Now I gotta share y’all with the world.”

“You started this.”

“I know. I’m starting to regret it.”

You laughed softly while he reached for the baby, cradling him against his chest with the kind of practiced gentleness that still made your heart ache.

“You ready, little man?” he murmured.

Your son made a tiny sound and settled against him.

Ceedee looked up at you. “He ready.”

“I’m glad one of us is.”

He stepped close enough to wrap his free arm around your waist. “You nervous?”

“Yes.”

“You look beautiful.”

“That doesn’t answer the nerves.”

“No.” He kissed your temple. “But it’s true.”

The stadium tunnel was chaos when you arrived.

Cameras, staff, players, security, people moving in every direction. You had been around the team before, but never like this. Never visible. Never walking beside him with your baby in his arms and his hand at your back like he was introducing his whole heart to the world.

The first person to react was one of his teammates.

He was mid-conversation when his eyes landed on Ceedee, then on you, then on the baby.

His mouth fell open.

“Hold on.”

Ceedee’s face stayed calm, but you could see the amusement in his eyes.

The teammate walked closer, pointing at the baby. “Bro. Is that—”

“My son,” Ceedee said.

The tunnel seemed to pause around you.

“Your son?” another teammate repeated from nearby.

He adjusted the baby carefully against his chest, pride written across his whole face. “Yeah.”

Someone shouted from behind them, “Dee got a baby?”

Then it was over.

The whole group erupted.

Players crowded around in disbelief, some laughing, some yelling, some genuinely offended that he had managed to hide an entire family. One of them looked at you with wide eyes and said, “You real?”

You laughed despite your nerves. “Very.”

Another pointed at Ceedee. “This man had a whole wife and baby at home while we were calling him single?”

Ceedee shrugged. “Y’all loud.”

“You secretive!”

“Private,” Ceedee corrected.

Then he looked at you, and the teasing around him faded from his face. He reached for your hand and brought it to his lips briefly, right there in front of everybody.

“My family,” he said simply.

The cameras caught that.

Of course they did.

The internet had the clip before kickoff.

By the second quarter, your phone was unusable.

You didn’t check it until you were settled in the family suite, baby asleep in your arms now while Ceedee’s family laughed over the chaos unfolding online. The first post you saw was a slow-motion tunnel clip: Ceedee walking in with your son in one arm, your hand in his other, looking calm as ever while half his teammates lost their minds behind him.

The caption read:

CEEDEE LAMB JUST WALKED IN WITH A WHOLE FAMILY????

The comments were worse.

The internet been trying to find him a girlfriend and this man had a BABY.

That baby jacket with LAMB on the back. I’m sick.

He been going home to peace and a newborn this whole time.

She’s gorgeous. He hid her for a reason.

You scrolled for a few minutes, overwhelmed but not unhappy. Most of it was shock. Some of it was sweet. Some of it made you roll your eyes. But beneath the noise, something in you felt relieved.

No more rumors.

No more pretending.

No more watching strangers invent women for a man who came home to you.

After the game, Ceedee found you before doing anything else.

Still in uniform, eye black smudged slightly, adrenaline bright in his eyes. The second he stepped into the family area and saw you holding the baby, his whole expression changed.

Softened.

Came home.

“How my boy?” he asked, walking straight to you.

“Sleepy,” you said. “A little overwhelmed. Same as his mama.”

He bent to kiss the baby’s forehead, then yours. “You okay?”

You looked up at him, the noise of celebration moving around you, cameras still somewhere outside, the internet still exploding.

“I’m okay.”

His eyes searched yours. “For real?”

“For real.”

Only then did his shoulders relax.

A teammate passed by and shouted, “Family man!”

Ceedee didn’t even look away from you. “Been that.”

Your chest warmed.

Later that night, after the game, after the posts, after the family calls, after the baby finally went down, you found yourself in bed beside Ceedee while he scrolled through his phone with one hand and held yours with the other.

“They’re still going,” he said.

“You surprised?”

“Nah.”

You leaned against his shoulder. “You regret it?”

He locked his phone and set it aside.

“No.”

His answer was immediate.

He turned toward you, face softer in the bedroom light. “I don’t regret showing the world I’m loved.”

Your throat tightened.

“And I definitely don’t regret showing them who I come home to.”

You looked down, emotion rising faster than you expected. “You’re going to make me cry.”

“You been emotional since the baby.”

“You have also been emotional since the baby.”

He laughed quietly. “Fair.”

For a moment, you both listened to the monitor beside the bed, your son’s tiny breathing filling the silence.

Ceedee reached over and touched your ring finger gently.

“They can know now,” he said. “But they don’t get everything.”

You nodded.

That was the balance.

The world got a glimpse. A tunnel walk. A headline. A photo of a baby jacket. A man proud enough to walk into a stadium with his family and silence every rumor without saying a word.

But it did not get the late-night feedings.

It did not get the way Ceedee sang off-key lullabies because he claimed the baby liked them.

It did not get the quiet kisses in the kitchen, the tired laughter, the soft arguments over who needed sleep more.

It did not get the full story.

That belonged to you.

He pulled you closer, his hand settling warm against your waist.

“You know they’re probably calling you my mystery woman.”

You smiled against his chest. “I’m not mysterious.”

“Nah.” His voice lowered, affectionate and certain. “You’re mine.”

The baby made a tiny sound through the monitor, and both of you went still.

When he settled again, you and Ceedee looked at each other and laughed softly.

There it was.

Your real life.

Not the rumors.

Not the internet.

Not the league.

Just the two of you in the quiet, listening to the little boy who had changed everything.

Ceedee kissed your forehead and held you close.

“Already had everything they thought I needed,” he murmured.

You closed your eyes, smiling into the warmth of him.

And he was right.

The world had spent months trying to find him love.

The whole time, love had been waiting at home.

--

taglist ~

the first time you witnessed it was when you saw it up close during michael’s rehearsal in the studio at midnight.

michael had been drilling the choreography for his upcoming tour for hours. the red, leather jacket fit loosely around his frame, one white, sparkly glove glowing under harsh lights of the studio. you sat crossed legged on the floor, not too far from. head resting on your hands as you admire your boyfriend’s moves.

suddenly, michael planted one of his feet, glided forward and spun. his body whipped around so fast, curls bouncing and jacket flaring. your eyes widen when he stopped and met his eyes with yours, instantly clapping and hooting.

“baby!” you continued to clap, jumping up. “do that again, that was wonderful honey.”

michael grinned, bashful as usual. he began to get shy but did the move once more, earning a uproar from you. you rushed over to him, hands cupping his face to kiss him hard. “i love that move, so much. it’s like you’re floatin' on air!”

the second time was during the full on run through of the billie jean choreography on the actual concert stage. a few crew members were around, testing electronics and instruments to make sure the sound and the concert will run smoothly. michael was in his own world, on stage doing the dance moves with you, again, on the floor watching. the billie jean instrumental was blaring in the background , you were tapping your feet and bobbing your head to the rhythm as you were watching michael.

you had your arms folded, making sure to not cheer to loud. you knew how michael got when cheered for, especially in front of other people. your eyes were glued to him when he did it, when he did THE move.

the spin was much faster, sharper, precise. your stomach flipped and heat rises to your cheeks. you had told yourself you would keep yourself reserved and quiet but all of that completely left your mind when you scurried up on your feet hollering:

“whoa! do that spin baby!”

all of the crew mates and musicians started to laugh at michael’s supportive yet performative girlfriend. michael had looked straight at you after your outburst. he bit his lip, trying to hide his smile but failing miserably.

later that day, michael had backed you against the wall, voice all low and flirty. “you really like it when I do that spin, huh?”

“every single time.” you replied, hands on his chest. “it does something to me.”

the third time didn’t require any music or anything. it was 3am in the morning and, like always, michael couldn’t sleep. he was thinking to much about his music and certain dance moves.

he was in the kitchen, grabbing a snack and humming “wanna be startin something” under his breath. unbeknownst to him, you had woken up too and was leaned against the doorway of the kitchen in your silk robe, watching him with a grin.

then he did it, no music, no instructions just him and his mind. the sounds of your laughter made him hum in surprise and turn around. his face warmed at the sight of his lovely girlfriend, laughing and clapping by the door.

“michael jospeh jackson, you are sum else .”

he smiled before spinning again, playfully. after the spin he moonwalked backwards until his back hit your chest making you snort at him before grabbing his shoulders and turning around. he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling him flush against him.

you melted against him, fingers raking through his jheri curl.

“i love you, mr spiny man.”

“mr spiny man loves you too.”

the fourth time was amazing. it was finally the day of the thriller tour and your emotions were very high, mostly excitement.

the lights were beaming. the crowd was screaming. michael had hit the stage, making the crowd cry, half of the crowd fainted before he could bust a move. but when michael hit the signature move during “billie jean” the crowd lost their minds and you did too, if not worse.

from your spot in VIP, your heart was pounding. you felt electricity. your man was owning the entire arena with move. you screamed along with fans, jumping up and down, curls bouncing.

michael had closed with the song “p.y.t” michael had arranged for the stage cameras to show you from the VIP section, making you show up on the large screens on the wall. you obviously were surprised, seeing yourself on the big screen while listening to michael singing to you, after all you were his pretty young thang.

when he came off the stage later that day, he was drenched in sweat, towel around his neck. he made his way right to your direction. you met him halfway, practically throwing yourself on him.

“baby that was wonderful, and you did the spin!” you told him, voice highly pitched with pride and want. “you killed the night, especially me.”

michael laughed, softly and pressing a even more softer kiss to your temple. “i saw how big your smile was, made me hit it harder.”

the fifth time was literally that same night. you and were together in private, at a hotel after the show.

the lights were dimmed in room, only the light from the bathroom was on. you sitting on the edge of the bed, applying body lotion to your feet after taking a well needed bath. your hair was in curlers, wrapped in a sheer fabric.

michael wasn’t too far, actually he was in the bathroom. he stood in front of the mirror, hair damp from the bath and dressed in some pajama pants and a mickey mouse printed shirt. he was still in a aftershock from the show, reminiscing about his dance moves and the songs.

he playfully did dance moves in the mirror with a grin, which was wider when he caught you staring through the mirror. he glanced at you, playfully before planting his feet in a familiar position and spinning.

he heard your soft giggles from behind him and your voice telling him to “come here”

when he reached in front of you, you pulled him down on top of you, making him yelp with a wide smile. “i love that damn spin.” you whispered before michael couldn’t contain himself and planted his lips on yours.

-