Cameron shrugged Blake’s hands off as he tried to pry Cameron off Drew. He grabbed a handful of Drew’s pretentious-as-shit polo and lifted the man’s head off the ground. “You ever mention Audrey again, I’ll end you,” he said in Drew’s face through gritted teeth. “You hear me? I’ll fucking end you.”
“Cameron!” Blake barked. This time he managed to haul Cameron to his feet, leaving Drew sprawled on his back, his head lolling to one side.
Cameron ignored the gawkers and whispers from the players and other coaches as he shoved Blake’s hands off. He stood over Drew and jabbed a finger at him. “Don’t ever forget that.”
“What part of don’t beat the shit out of him did you not get?” Blake questioned.
Cameron ignored the question and swiped a hand across his mouth, not surprised to see the smear of blood. His left eye was blurry and swollen and dripping with something. Probably more blood. Cameron had underestimated Drew’s agility, but he hadn’t cared because he’d gotten the last word. The whole thing had been worth it to see his nemesis lying on the ground like a defeated contender, face covered in blood, eye just as swollen as Cameron’s.
“Go get that checked out by the school nurse,” Blake told him.
Cameron shot him a get real look and kept walking.
Blake held his hands up. “Sorry for giving a shit.” Then he let out a humorless laugh and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Fuuuuck, Cameron.”
“Don’t start.” He kept walking until he was off the field, not glancing back to see if Drew was still pissing and moaning on the ground like a baby.
Audrey was attempting to make meatballs while simultaneously listening to Piper’s rambling stories about school. Audrey had already screwed up once by putting in too many breadcrumbs while Piper had been throwing math equations at her. She’d never thought that hearing “What’s two plus three?” would throw off her concentration while reading a recipe, but it had.
Of course, Cameron would probably tell her not to use breadcrumbs anyway. The man had an annoying habit of interfering with her cooking and dictating her recipes. She knew how to cook, thanks very much.
On the other hand, she’d grown used to his controlling ways in the kitchen. It was actually kind of cute the way he’d salt pasta water when he thought she wasn’t looking. The kitchen had gotten rather quiet after Piper had run down to friend’s house for dinner, and Audrey realized how late Cameron was tonight. He was usually through the front door by six thirty. It was seven fifteen and he still wasn’t home.
Should she call him?
No, that would be too needy. She wasn’t that person.
But what if something had happened? What if he had car trouble and his cell phone was dead?
He’s a grown man and can take care of himself.
Audrey forced herself to relax as the front door opened, then shut. Her pulse automatically sped up, and she chastised her own predictability. All he had to do was enter the premises and her skin got all hot and itchy and her heart did that triple-beat thing.
She braced herself for his appearance, forced her breathing to slow, but there was no sign of him. His footsteps faded as he made a detour to his bedroom. Okay, maybe he just needed to change his clothes first. Just because he hadn’t come running straight to her didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean she was all hot and bothered for nothing.
Audrey rolled her shoulders and waited for the simmering tension to ease, but it didn’t. It never did with Cameron.
She finished assembling the meatballs on a platter and slid them in the oven to broil. After setting the timer, she set off to find Cameron to let him know how long until dinner.
The back of the house was silent. She’d expected to hear the shower running and had a moment’s hesitation. The last thing she needed was to walk in on the guy with no clothes on. Or standing beneath the steamy spray.
Actually…
Bad Audrey!
She pulled herself together by the time she reached Cameron’s room. The shower wasn’t running, but she decided to announce herself anyway. You know, just in case.
“Cameron?” But he didn’t answer, and she didn’t let his silence deter her.
She stepped into his room, ignoring the messed up bed and the images that created.
When she came to the bathroom door, she stopped. There he was, in his typical coaching attire of athletic pants and hooded sweatshirt, leaning over the bathroom counter as he dabbed a wet washcloth to the corner of his mouth.
Audrey dragged her gaze away from his perfectly round ass and was about to ask him how his day had been, when she had a good look at his face.
His left eye was a swollen mess, decorated with a deep purple and red. And his mouth…Audrey gasped as Cameron touched the washcloth to the side of his mouth, trying to wipe away blood that oozed from a cut.
“What the hell happened to you?” she blurted out.
Cameron swiped at the cut. “I fell” was his curt answer.
“Off a cliff?”
His eyes dropped closed as a weary sigh escaped him. “Not now, Audrey.”
“At least reassure me that the other guy looks as shitty as you,” she said.
He cut her a glance. “He looks worse.” He might have been smirking, but it was hard to tell with half his lip bloody and swollen.
“Of course he does,” she muttered, and shouldered her way into the room. The place smelled like him, like his shampoo and minty toothpaste. His stuff was all over the place, a stick of deodorant on the counter and a towel hanging crookedly on the towel rack.
She ignored the intimacy of being in Cameron’s bathroom, of getting an eyeful of a pair of black boxers on the floor, and pushed him away from the counter.
“Audrey…” he said again with a sigh.
She squatted and opened the cabinet under the sink. “Hush,” she told him. “Someone needs to teach
