Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 59489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“Yes, but that was his sister,” I said. “I can only imagine how any of the other guys would have reacted if they had a little sister in that situation.”
“I don’t need to imagine,” Allison said. “They all probably would have acted exactly like Camden. The only difference is Camden did everything he could to keep the group together, to keep them all in touch even when they didn’t want to be or felt like they could. Victor said if it weren’t for Camden keeping him in the loop with group chats, he wouldn’t have known what to do when his ex left him.”
“I didn’t know anything about that,” I said.
She smiled, her eyes slowly shutting.
“That’s gossip for another day,” she said. “For now, I think I need a little nap. What time is it?”
“Ten,” I said. “What time are the boys getting back tonight?”
“Who knows?” she said. “Mallory has the kids overnight unless we go get them. She had it all planned. Movies on the projector, popcorn, sleeping bags. Kids are having a blast. Can you set me an alarm on your phone? I left mine over on the coffee table, and I don’t feel like getting it.”
“Sure, what time?” I asked.
“Midnight,” she said. “If the boys aren’t back by then, I’ll head home and let you sleep.”
“No, it’s okay,” I said. “I don’t mind you staying until they get back.”
“Good,” she said, “because this couch is stupid comfortable.”
A few moments later, she was softly snoring, and I giggled.
The guys would be back soon, I was sure, but I was happy to ride the night out with a wine-drunk Allison and sleep on the couch while Sandra Bullock played in the background. I couldn’t imagine being in a better place than I was right then, except of course, physically being with Camden. It was so different from how I used to be, and I loved it.
Allison had spoken about how much I’d changed Camden, but the truth was, he’d changed me too. So much of who I used to be was molding around him, and yet, it felt like nothing changed at all sometimes.
The universe had put us together. I liked that. If there was a such thing as a plan, he and I being together was certainly part of it.
I dozed off not long after, and when I woke up, I was being carried to bed. Camden had come home, smelling faintly like whiskey and smoke, and yet it didn’t bother me one bit. He laid me down gently on the bed and pulled down the covers to let me inside. A few minutes later, he curled around me, and I sighed, sinking off to a deep, happy sleep.
23
CAMDEN
“You ready?”
“As ever.”
“All right, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I grinned. “Bring it.”
The baseball zoomed at me at over ninety miles an hour. Graham may have lost the ability to play on a regular basis, but occasionally the man could still bring back a remnant of who he used to be. It was exhilarating for us as kids, and now as grown men, to face off against what we knew was a major league arm, but it usually meant one thing for us.
Failure.
“Outside, ball one,” Mark said from behind the plate after the ball smacked hard into his glove.
This was the way we had played as kids. One of us pitched for three innings, one caught during the same time frame, also acting as umpire. One of us would take the outfield, one would hang out around second base. It was chaos. There was almost never an actual play on the ball. There was no way one outfielder could make a play and throw to the one infielder and make a tag.
But it was fun anyway.
Oftentimes, I would be the second pitcher, being the only other one of us who was any good at that position. When we were in high school, I’d played as well, pitching on our varsity squad as a sophomore and junior. Senior year I ended up messing up my ankle on my drive leg right before the season and missed out on the whole year.
It didn’t matter. I wasn’t playing for any other reason at that point other than to hang out with Graham and watch what was already becoming a special career from the inside.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Graham said as he held out the glove for the return throw.
“Nope,” Mark said. “Outside. By a hair, but outside.”
“All right,” Graham said, kicking the dirt on the mound of our old high school and peering down at Mark as he set up behind the plate. “Try this one.”
He went into his motion, left leg kicking out and sweeping around, then planting hard on the mound, his whole body jolting into movement like a rubber band being snapped. The ball screamed out of his hand, and I uncorked my own body, taking a big hack at it. Maybe I would hit it. Maybe I wouldn’t. But I was damn sure going to give it a try.