My stomach dropped with some sense of relief, because she wasn’t running away from me, but also with something I didn’t like. Why wasn’t she tucked in my arms? Why was she physically removing herself from me?
“I deserved it, honestly. What matters now is that you’ve forgiven me.”
I felt myself pale. Deserved it? “Adalyn—”
“I’m going to run to the restroom, okay? I’ll be right back so we can eat.” She made herself smile. “I’m starving and I’m under the impression that lasagna might have come right out of Nonna’s recipe book.”
It did. It was the ragù she prepared when I was a boy.
But before I could utter a word, she was walking away, and I was watching her leave. I started after her, then stopped myself. I’d give her the minute she so clearly needed.
On the island, my phone pinged with a notification.
An email from Liam.
I started putting down the device, but something caught my attention. Miami Flames.
I unlocked it and opened the email.
From: liam.acrey@zmail.com
To: c.caldani13@zmail.com
Subject: Miami Flames interest
C – Remember I put out some scouts to spread word around that there was MLS interest in you? Not a rumour anymore. The Flames seem to be looking for a big name for sporting director. Scouts claim it’s to either fix media mess (link below) or cash in on attention. I think it’s something else. Either way, big cash. Interested?
L.
PS: RBC is growing restless, you have until end of October to decide. Stop being a wanker and take it.
I immediately clicked on the link.
A video popped open, starting without me hitting play.
A woman entered what looked like the Flames’ Stadium, stomping her way to one of those mascots shaped like a bird. Someone said, “Are you recording this?” And the camera moved closer, fully catching her face.
All the blood in my face dashed to my feet.
Adalyn.
Then it dashed right back to my head, making me see red.
“What the fuck.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Adalyn
When I returned to the kitchen, I found a very different Cameron than the one I’d left there.
This one wasn’t looking at me with all that softness and vulnerability that had made my chest hurt. This Cameron was mad. Upset.
Disconcerted.
“Adalyn,” he said. That was all. Just my name.
I came to a stop. My gaze roamed all over his face, his stance, the kitchen, looking for an explanation. Had I done something to cause this? Minutes ago, I’d run into his arms because I hadn’t been able to help myself. Because I’d felt so horrible at the idea of having used something so painful against him that I would have cracked in two if I didn’t make sure he knew how sorry I was. Minutes ago, he was calling me love and telling me he’d hated being mean to me in the past. Cameron didn’t know that I was used to not being wanted in places, I was used to imposing myself on people’s lives and situations, with only a few exceptions like Matthew or my mother.
Cameron lifted his arm, making me notice the phone he was gripping in his fist. “What’s this,” he ground out, not even formulating the question.
A nanosecond was all it took me. Just a glimpse.
I had been mentally preparing myself for this, for him finding out, ever since that conversation with Diane and Gabriel. After I learned that Cameron hadn’t known about it and apparently hadn’t been curious enough to google me. But most of all, I’d been dreading this moment for the last few weeks. Days. It had been hanging over my head. I knew that Cameron was eventually going to see it.
But that didn’t mean I’d been ready.
All the warmth in my body left me, and I was sure I wobbled a tiny step to the side, because the storm of emotion in Cameron’s eyes wavered for an instant. He reached for me.
I widened my stance. I shook my head and told myself to stand straight. What was that thing Cameron told the girls? Soldier on.
“I think it’s obvious from the clip,” I told him. “Did you watch the whole thing?”
He let out a rough exhale. “I don’t understand.”
I didn’t, either. I didn’t understand why he was so upset, unless perhaps he hated being left in the dark or caught off guard. Perhaps he felt betrayed by me not telling him that he was walking around with a ticking PR bomb. After all, I was a meme, a viral thirty-second clip, a face used to sell energy drinks. Choose entertainment over dignity. I was every single thing he was running away from.
“There’s nothing to understand,” I said.