Breakaway, page 8
part #5 of Northbrook Hockey Elite Series
This time, though, his mom was with Camila. He slowed his step.
“What happened out there?” his mom asked, her brown eyes huge with worry.
Declan held back the grimace of pain that was threatening as his shoulder twinged. “Dislocated my shoulder again. It will be fine, though.”
“Oh, Declan,” his mom said. “And your eye, it looks terrible.”
He’d forgotten about that. Minor, anyway. “I’m good, Mom.”
She sighed, and his gaze connected with Camila’s.
“Your goals were amazing,” Camila said. Beneath the brim of her hat, her eyes were shadowed, but the smile curving those lips of hers was in no way hidden.
His pulse doubled. “Thanks.” He really wanted something cold on his shoulder, and he was pretty sure he’d be wearing a sling out of the locker room. But he could delay a few more minutes if Camila was here, looking at him like she was. Something like admiration. He didn’t want to read too much into it, but it was definitely something he didn’t mind in the least.
“I’m meeting Trane Jones for dinner,” he said, his gaze shifting to his mom again. “You’re both welcome to come.”
“Oh, I’m beat,” his mom said, although her voice had brightened. “Tell Trane hello from me. He was always a decent kid.”
“Will do.”
Camila hadn’t answered, so he looked at her.
“Coming?” he asked.
She slipped her hands into the pockets of her oversized jacket that concealed the Chargers jersey she wore beneath it. “Is it just you and Trane?”
He heard the hesitation in her voice. “Well, we’re going to Rockie’s, so most of the team will be there. A bunch of Comets too. But yeah, you should sit at my table. Trane will be a part of the upcoming video shoot.”
If he were a betting man, he would have bet that Camila was going to politely turn him down. So he was surprised when she said, “All right. I’ll try to make it.”
Camila was weak after all. Declan Rivera, wearing no shirt and with part of his face bruised because he’d just pulled out a win for the Chargers, was a hard man to say no to. Especially after looking at her with those dark-brown eyes of his and inviting her to dinner with him and his Northbrook teammate. Oh, and did she mention the shirtless part?
All pro-hockey players were in dang good shape; it came with the territory. But Declan was on his own planet. And here she was, walking away with his mom to the parking lot, and all she could think about was the broadness of his shoulders, his sculpted arms, the ripples on his torso, and how if she’d stared any longer, she might have said or done something stupid.
Like tell him she’d developed a crush on him. A tiny crush, of course. And only because she was a red-blooded female with twenty-twenty vision.
Distance and space were good. As well as the cold March night.
Spending time with his mom probably wasn’t super wise, since his mother only said great stuff about him, funny stuff about antics with the cat in his place, and endearing stuff about his relationship with his dad.
“Thanks for walking me to my car,” Mrs. Rivera said, playing with the heart-shaped pendant she wore on a necklace. “And it was nice to sit with you at the game too.”
“I’m glad you texted me so I knew where you were sitting,” Camila said, sincerely. She’d been in the box with her dad and his wife, and yeah, that was never too fun. She got to hear every single one of her dad’s gripes about all the small things, and Angela’s soothing murmurs. No, thank you.
“What are you wearing?” Angela had said with a laugh the moment Camila had walked into the box.
“A team jersey,” Camila had answered, trying but failing to keep the bite out of her tone.
“Camila,” her dad had said, without breaking his gaze from the warmups on the ice below.
It was a warning to play nice with Angela.
Camila had thrown a small smile to Angela. Then Mrs. Rivera’s text had come in, and Camila had been more than relieved.
Now, she moved to her car. A bunch of people were hanging out by the exit, probably waiting for the players to make their appearances. Get a few autographs.
Camila climbed into her car. She pulled out of the parking lot, and at the intersection, she hesitated. Going right would take her to Rockie’s Bar and Grill. Left would take her home. Joining Declan and Trane felt like she was letting down her guard. More than she wanted to.
So she cranked up her music and turned left.
But the closer she got to home, the more the guilt began to creep in. She should at least text Declan her change in plans so that he wouldn’t be left wondering. Not that he’d be disappointed, she was positive of that.
She pulled into her garage, which connected with her condo. Her mother’s, actually, but now Camila lived here. Her phone rang as she walked into her place. Paige. Of course. They often had late-night chats, mostly about Paige’s upcoming wedding.
Camila didn’t mind. “Hi,” she answered.
“Hey, what are you up to?” Paige yawned.
This was Camila’s signal that Paige was settled in for the night and wanted some girlfriend chatting. “Just walked in the door from the game.” She shrugged out of her jacket and set it over a kitchen chair.
Paige laughed. “Brady watched it at my place. I think my neighbors hate us now. He was going nuts over those goals by Declan.”
“Uh-huh.” Camila crossed to the fridge and opened it. She was hungry, and now that she wouldn’t be eating at Rockie’s, maybe she’d fix a sandwich or something.
“Don’t play coy with me,” Paige said. “Your man was amazing.”
Camila frowned. “My man? I told you, I’m only helping him with social media. The whole team, in fact.”
“I heard what you said,” Paige said. “And I also heard how you talked to him on the phone the other day. That game was awesome. He must be walking on water.”
“Actually, he looks pretty banged up,” Camila said. “He told his mom he was fine, but he was definitely hurting.”
“Wait, what? You were with him and his mom?”
Whoops. With a sigh, Camila pulled out a block of swiss cheese and deli turkey. “I ended up sitting by his mom during the game, and I was going to make sure she got to her car okay. So I was with her when she said goodbye to him.”
“Oh, so you walk his mom to her car but put up a fuss when he insists on walking you to yours?”
Camila winced. She’d told Paige way too much already. “I guess I’m a hypocrite,” she said with a light laugh.
Again, Paige wasn’t fooled. “When are you taking his mom on a tour?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Is . . . Declan coming too?”
“Ha. Doubt it.” Camila grabbed the whole wheat bread from the bread box and took out two slices. “He won’t be too happy with me anyway.” Had she said that aloud?
Yep.
“What do you mean?” Paige asked.
“He, um, asked me to meet him and Trane Jones at Rockie’s. They were teammates in club, and Trane will be part of the video shoot in a few days,” she said, hoping that by including Trane it would downplay the invitation. “Well, both his mom and I were invited, but she said she was too tired. And I . . . sort of accepted, but I’m not going anymore.”
“Why not?” Paige sounded way too invested in this.
“I’m tired,” she said.
“Oh my gosh,” Paige said. “You are such an old lady now. Are you getting a cat next?”
“Hey, cats are great,” Camila said with a laugh.
Paige didn’t laugh. In fact, her voice was dead serious when she said, “You know, Camila. I love you like a sister, but since coming back to Denver, it’s like you’re hiding from everyone and everything. I’m worried about you.”
“I’m not hiding,” Camila said immediately. “I just want to be careful. You know, avoid the Stephen types.”
“There will always be Stephen types out there,” Paige said. “And I agree that you should avoid them, but all guys aren’t Stephen. How will you find your Brady if you don’t leave your condo or work once in a while?”
Camila perched on the edge of the kitchen table and blew out a breath. “I leave my place. I went wedding dress shopping with you, and tomorrow I’ll be hanging out with Mrs. Rivera.”
“Not the same thing,” Paige said. “I think you should go out tonight. Change out of those baggy clothes that you’ve been wearing for two months. Put on one of your sexy dresses. Walk into the restaurant and smile and flirt a little. Maybe even give out your number to someone, if Declan isn’t going all caveman on you.”
Camila snorted. “He’s not like that.” Except he kind of was. But more of a big-brother type. Which was kind of annoying in and of itself.
“Do it, Cam.” Paige lowered her voice. “Go knock Declan’s socks off. If he doesn’t react, then you’ll know.”
“Know what?”
“Know if he’s into you.”
Camila looked up at the ceiling. “Whatever.”
“Act all nonchalant if you want, but I know you’re curious.”
She was, but she didn’t want to admit it to anyone. “And what if the night’s a disaster, and all I have to show for it is a bunch of hockey thugs trying to get on my dad’s good side?”
Paige laughed. “I’ve no doubt you’ll put them in their places in two seconds flat.”
“Yeah, probably.”
“Do it, girl,” Paige said. “Have a little fun. Stephen moved on, and there’s no reason why you shouldn’t too.”
Camila went silent at the mention of Stephen. It also put a little fire in her belly. Should she go? She exhaled.
“Send me a selfie of your outfit,” Paige said, a smile in her tone.
“All right.” When Camila hung up with Paige, she didn’t move for a moment. Then she put away the meat, cheese, and bread. She was going to do this. After all, Declan had said she didn’t have to hide from him.
So she wouldn’t.
Thirty minutes later, Camila was on her way to Rockie’s. She was wearing a royal-blue dress, fitted but modest. Casual, unless one counted her black heels. Yes, she’d had to shave her legs and dig out her curling rod. She’d brushed her hair out and worked in long waves that fell down her back. She didn’t go overboard on the makeup, but it was definitely more than she’d ever worn around the Chargers players.
A final spritz of her favorite perfume at her wrists was the last touch.
Her stomach was in knots, though, and as she pulled up to the valet parking in front of Rockie’s, she second-guessed herself for the dozenth time. She hadn’t dressed up since that final fight with Stephen. His ugly words were never far from her memories, when he’d called her selfish, her dad a self-centered jerk, and their relationship one-sided.
She’d accused him of cheating on her, and he only deflected her accusation, never denied it.
She’d gone beyond her comfort zone to ask her dad to sign him, and she’d given up so much for him, and really, she’d lost herself. And in the end, not even that had been enough for him. She was done not being enough. Tonight was for herself.
She thanked the valet and strode to the doors of the restaurant. Stepping inside, she saw that there was a wait. Those on the bench eyed her, but she recognized none of them. Maybe the hockey guys already had a table.
She stepped up to the host stand. The man behind the stand had slicked-back hair and stood ramrod straight.
“I’m here to meet some people, but I’m late.”
“Name?” he asked.
“Uh, mine or theirs?”
“Yours, honey,” the guy said.
“Camila Brandon.”
No reaction from the host. He simply said, “Follow me.”
Camila followed him through the restaurant, which proved to be larger than she imagined. They passed two sections, then the waiter paused at what was clearly the sports grill part of the place. Huge TV screens littered the walls, with every sort of game on each of them. The tables scattered about were filled with men who were clearly not normal sized. Yep, the hockey players were here. Along with a few extras, and some women mixed in with the bunch.
“I’ll take it from here,” she told the host.
“Cam!” someone called out.
She glanced over to see Loop. He waved, and she nodded, not wanting everyone to notice her. But it was too late.
The conversation, which had been buzzing in the room, quieted.
“Wow, look at you,” another voice said. This one to her right, and one that she recognized.
She looked over to see Hammer. A woman sat next to him, pretty much hanging on him, but Hammer had no problem ogling Camila.
But she wasn’t going to let him or any guys like him affect her. She’d keep things lighthearted. “Hi, Hammer. Keeping the posts family-friendly?”
“You got it, sweetheart,” he said with a giant grin. The others at his table laughed.
Camila merely smiled and moved past their table. She found Declan easily enough. He was sitting across from a hulk of a guy who must be Trane Jones. And yep, Declan’s dark eyes were on her.
Declan had seen Camila from the moment she walked into the room. It was like the very air had shifted, and in a nanosecond he understood why she dressed down when she wanted to focus on work with the team. Because although every man should be able to keep his thoughts platonic around every woman, Camila looked stunning tonight.
There was no way that every head didn’t turn as she walked through the restaurant. And Declan knew it wasn’t just him.
He watched her say hi to Loop and effectively brush off Hammer without him realizing it. Smooth on Camila’s part.
And now, his greatest challenge. Not to stare at her as she walked toward his table with those hips of hers swaying and her legs a mile long in her high heels. She was dressed up, yeah, but not glamourous like she’d been in some of the pictures he’d seen of her. She looked . . . classy. And gorgeous. She’d finally taken out her ponytail and gotten rid of her giant coats and sweatshirts.
She wasn’t hiding behind anything right now. Nope. Her blue dress swept over her curves, and she moved with an easy grace that seemed innate to her. He would have thought she had walked right off a photo shoot if he didn’t know better.
Declan stood as she neared.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said, breezing past him and barely giving him a chance to pull out a chair for her.
“Thanks,” she said as she sat down, then reached her hand across the table to shake Trane’s hand.
His brows were arched higher than Declan had ever seen them.
“I’m Camila Brandon,” she said.
“Diesel,” Trane rumbled. “Pleasure to meet you.”
She smiled, and thankfully, Declan had already taken his seat, because her smiles were knee-weakening.
“Nice to meet you too.” She eyed their mostly empty plates. “What did you boys order?”
“I said we should wait,” Trane said, “but Declan was starving.”
Declan shook his head. “We both know that you were the one whining.”
Trane laughed. “Okay, I confess. But you’ve got to try the steak. It’s the best.”
“Maybe I will,” Camila said, glancing at all the platters. “Was someone else sitting here?”
“Nah, I was just hungry,” Trane said.
Declan scoffed.
Camila picked up one of the menus that had been left on the table, then glanced at him. “How’s your shoulder?”
“It’s fine,” he said. “Don’t even need a sling.” Well, he did, but it was too cumbersome.
She eyed him, then returned to her menu.
Declan was quite pleased that, first, she’d shown up after all, and second, that she was sitting on his side of the table. It also made it hard not to lean closer and breathe in whatever sweet berry perfume she wore. Or touch the wave in her blond hair.
He was also aware that almost every Chargers player in the room was stealing glances at their table. Declan was pretty sure that at least Runt and Loop would be drilling him with questions later on.
“So how long have you two been dating?” Trane asked.
“We’re not dating,” Camila said at the same time as Declan.
Trane laughed. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all night, and believe me, the Chargers are a nutty bunch.”
Declan picked up his glass of water and took a long swallow. Then he signaled to a waiter bringing another round of drinks to a table.
“I think Dice is ignoring me,” Trane told Camila.
“He’s good at that.”
“What?” Declan looked over at her.
She merely shrugged.
“Can I get you something, sir?” the waiter asked, his tone a bit harried.
“Yeah, the lady is ready to order,” Declan said, “and she needs a drink too.”
Camila flushed, but she ordered a salmon salad, no dressing. Not that he was surprised. Then she asked for a water with lemon.
Declan folded his hands on the table because it was better than having them too close to Camila.
“So you guys were in club hockey together?” Camila said. “What was that like?”
Trane jumped in first. Declan had never seen his friend so talkative, and he felt a little suspicious.
“Yeah, well, I was one of those guys who could have eaten, slept, and breathed hockey,” Trane said. “Playing on an amazing team was just icing on the cake.”
Camila’s eyes remained on Trane as he talked about Northbrook, and Declan admitted to himself he was feeling a bit left out. Trane was harmless, mostly, but he had this softer side with the ladies. Which Camila seemed to appreciate.
Hmm.
“And you were always a goalie?” Camila asked, completely focused on Trane.
Declan was listening, but he was also antsy. Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea. Every guy in the room was taking glances at Camila. It wasn’t like they were on a date, but still. She was sitting by him. Shouldn’t the other guys keep their eyes off her?
“It wasn’t until I was fifteen that I got put in as goalie,” Trane said. “Our other goalie had a sprained ankle, and well, I never got pulled out after that.”
