There was still a place for him on the team if he wanted it, Coach had made that much clear. But until he decided one way or the other, Cam needed to take a break and the rookie was going to be played. The guy needed the experience.
“Maybe you could give him some pointers,” Coach had suggested. “He looks up to you.”
Yeah, maybe. But not right now. Because it felt like he was hitting himself in the face a hundred times every moment he didn’t run out onto the turf.
On Friday, before the rest of the team had caught their flight to California, he’d joined them for a party at Dan Motion’s house, to celebrate his fiancée’s birthday. It had been less than a week since he’d played, but there was already a feeling of being an outsider. He hadn’t been able to joke with them about what they’d do in San Francisco on Saturday night, or about the drills Coach had made them run all week. Even when he’d joined in a discussion about the San Francisco team’s weaknesses, he’d felt a pang in his stomach.
Because he wouldn’t be able to take advantage of those weaknesses. Or try to intercept the ball and run it up the field. With every day of indecision he was being inched out, and pushed away from the life he knew.
That’s why he’d suggested to Brian that they watch the game at a bar. He’d only sulk if he was sitting in his leather recliner at home, watching the oversize screen that had been installed the year he’d bought the house on Beacon Hill. So much better to be surrounded by people than to be alone.
“Hey, is that Cam Hartson?” he heard a woman whisper.
“Jesus, it is,” the man next to her agreed. “Hey Cam, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be playing ball?”
A man to his left lifted his head up. “Saw you take that hit last week. Looked painful. You out of the team now?”
Cam curled his fingers into his palm and forced a smile. “Just resting.”
“That rookie though. He’s good. You’re gonna have a battle to get your place back.”
Cam’s muscles tensed.
“It’s a young man’s game,” the woman to his left said. “Once you hit thirty, you’re pretty much done for.”
Brian frowned. “That’s not true. What about Brady? He’s forty something.” Brian drummed his fingers on the table in front of him. His black hair was pulled into a low pony tail.
“He doesn’t take the impacts like a safety.” The woman shrugged. “Anyway, good luck with retirement.”
Cam could tell Brian was getting irate from the way his finger drumming increased in tempo. “It’s okay, man,” he said, reaching out to calm his assistant’s hands. “This is a football town. I gotta get used to it.”
“Yeah, well they wouldn’t like it if I talked about their job like that.” Brian gritted his teeth.
Cam pressed his lips together. “You know I’m still gonna take care of you, right? I’ll need you even if I’m not playing football. Or if you want to keep with a player, I’ll give you a recommendation.”
Nearly every professional player he knew needed some kind of assistant to keep their lives running smoothly while they concentrated on the game. Brian did everything for him, from making sure the bills were paid and the house in order, to liaising with Cam’s manager and arranging for endorsements and sponsorships. He’d be nowhere without him.
Brian sighed. “I know. It’s not that. I just don’t like the way they were talking.”
Neither did Cam. But he knew better than to react. The problem was, everywhere he went in Boston he was recognized. This was a football town, the Bobcats were the biggest celebrities around. These kind of questions were going to crop up again and again.
And if he retired, it was probably going to get worse.
“I think I might go home for a while,” Cam said, his brows knitting together while he thought about it. “While I’m on a break from the team.”
“To Beacon Hill?”
He shook his head. “To Hartson’s Creek. Spend a bit of time with my family.” He had three brothers and a sister, and all of them were there. Gray, the oldest, who’d spent years touring the world as a singer, but had since settled down with Maddie Clark and had babies. Tanner, the youngest, who’d transformed from a New York computer whizzkid to buying up half the real estate in Hartson’s Creek, after he’d reconnected with his childhood best friend. They’d gone on to set up a home together.
And then there was Logan. Cam’s twin brother. He’d lived in Boston for years, and though the two of them were always busy, they’d spent lots of time together. But he’d moved back home, too, and become a father to a gorgeous little boy. Cam missed him like crazy every day. Boston wasn’t the same without him.
“You want me to book you a flight? How long will you be gone?”
Cam met Brian’s concerned gaze. “I think I’ll drive. It’ll save me renting a car while I’m there.”
“You’re gonna drive? Won’t that take you forever?”
About ten hours, if he kept to the speed limit. Maybe more if he needed to stop. But the good thing about driving was he’d be alone with his thoughts. Nobody to ask him why he wasn’t playing football, no reminders of the life he could lose. Just him, some rock music, and the wide open road.
And the truth was, he needed his family. His real family, not the one he’d built here. Needed to remember who he was and who he used to be, before
