First Down: a sweet romance, page 25
“We’re here, in Paris!” Cam spins, then lands on his back on top of the bed, sending air puffing through the comforter. “Isn’t it romantic?”
“Yeah,” I grin, taking in the scenic view of the asphalt parking lot over the rumbling white air conditioner in the window. “It’s beautiful. Did we pay extra for this view?”
“Shut up,” he laughs, throwing a pillow at my back.
I pull the heavy red curtains together then turn to watch him, leaning my butt against the small round table in the corner. The room is lit by two lamps in the middle of the two beds, casting soft shadows across Cam’s face as he lays in the center of the one closest to me. My eyes dart between the two beds, landing back on my boyfriend.
We… Didn’t really talk about this.
Cam smiles softly at the ceiling, looking confident and sexy and so comfortable in this situation we’ve found ourselves in. All of those things I am not feeling right now, as I question the decision to share a room with my boyfriend for the first time in a strange hotel in a strange city with no ground rules or discussion beforehand.
Is it too late to ask Jenson to switch with me? I’m sure his friends are lovely, we probably wouldn’t even have to-
“Come here,” he tilts his head, taking me in as I stand and breaking my train of thought.
I feel a flush rise up my neck and to my cheeks as I run my own eyes over his body as he lounges on the bed. I swallow hard, avoiding eye contact as long as I can. When we finally connect, I feel the words bubble up of their own accord.
“I, uh… I’m not sure.”
“Not… sure?” he looks confused.
“Yeah, like… I mean, I like you. And when I’m with you, everything feels right. It never felt like this, before.”
“Okay?” Cam sits up on his elbows. “Is everything alright, El?”
“Yeah, I just, I like you. A lot. Like, I like you. I love you.”
“I love you too,” he sits all the way up, brows drawing inward, and a tone of concern tinges his voice.
“Right, so… But… I’m not… I still don’t think I’m ready. You know. For more.”
“More, like…?”
I look meaningfully at the bed, and I can see the moment it clicks. Cam’s brows shoot high on his forehead for a moment, and then his eyes soften. He holds a hand out to me, murmuring my name, and I can’t help but step closer and take it.
“El,” he draws me closer, pulling me between his legs, and I go willingly. “That’s not what I was thinking.”
“It’s not?”
“No,” he shakes his head. “I’m not ready for all of that, either. I know some people our age move at light speed, but,” he shrugs. “That’s not us. I don’t want us to rush into any of… that.” Cam’s cheeks heat, and he pulls my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “I’m only excited because I’m here, with you. All night. Just the two of us. No pressure, okay?”
“Well.” I clear my throat. “That was very sweet.”
“Thanks,” he laughs, tugging me towards him.
He catches me off guard, and I fall onto him with a yelp. Cam laughs, rolling to his side, still holding my right hand in his left. They rest between us, interlocked, as we each lay on our other arm and smile at each other.
“Hey,” he whispers.
“Hi,” I whisper back, then lean forward and press my lips against his.
The kiss is lazy, unhurried, and almost delicate. I lean further into my boyfriend, pulling our joined hands to my waist and pulling mine free to slide up to his shoulder. My fingers flex, pulling him closer, and he increases the pressure of his lips against mine. Cam’s hand squeezes my hips reflexively and I gasp, opening myself up to him as fire builds between us.
His fingers trail under my shirt, tentative, and I break our connection long enough to tug it up and over my head and throw it towards the bags where they lie against the wall. Cam pauses, eyes raking over my chest as if he’s never seen me shirtless before. I lean against one arm on the bed, a nervous heat rising up my chest and to my cheeks, but to my surprise lacking any of my usual discomfort as I wait for his eyes to meet mine. And when they do?
Oh God…
His blue eyes are molten diamonds, hypnotic waves that pull me under as he crashes over me, pinning me to the bed as his mouth consumes mine. I hold onto his shoulders for dear life, clenching one hand in the fabric of his t-shirt and winding the other through the hair at the nape of his neck to shape and fit his lips to mine. The ebb and flow of his lips on mine, my back arching up to meet him and the pressure of his body on mine pushing me back down, leaves me gasping for breath as he trails kisses down my jaw. Cam’s hands wander my chest and stomach, trailing fire, until he pauses and sits up on one arm.
“Is this okay?”
“Take off your shirt,” I say in place of an answer, sliding my hand under the edge and tracing the outline of each muscle with my thumb.
He complies with a grin, tossing it backwards. I flip us over, lying half on top of him, and in moments we’re a tangled mass of sliding hands and wet kisses.When I break the kiss, pulling back and catching my breath, there’s a part of me that worries he’ll react badly. I lay my head on his chest, reaching around him and holding close, trying to slow my breathing, and he lets out a slow release of air as he holds me back. I can hear the smile in his voice as he hums happily, keeping me to his side as his heartbeat slows, and I can feel an answering smile rising on my face.
“I love you,” he growls, voice gravelly.
“I love you too.” I turn my head, pressing a kiss to his chest.
“Are you ready for bed? Busy day tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” I squeeze him in a sort of side-hug. “I am.”
We lie still a moment longer, just breathing together. Finally I sit up, stretching slightly, then slide off the side of the bed. I cross to my bag, step out of my jeans, and take my toothbrush and toothpaste into the bathroom. From the corner of my eye I see Camden sit up, his eyes going wide as he takes me in. I can’t help but smile a little as he scrambles up, occupying himself with his own bedtime routine. When he slips behind me to use the other half of the vanity I feel the warm brush of his bare knee against mine, and bend to spit into the sink, using the opportunity to rinse my face with the cold water.
He leans closer to the mirror, washing his hands before removing his contacts and placing them in a travel case. Blinking rapidly, he wipes his face with the towel hanging on the wall and brushes his own teeth as I go back into the room and slip into bed.
The bed where we’re going to sleep, together. Me and my boyfriend, all night long. My smile grows wider as I wiggle lower under the covers, getting comfortable against the pillows as I wait for Cam to finish and join me. A flutter starts in my stomach as he crosses the room, reaching over to turn off the lamp before he slides under the covers.
We both lie still for a moment, like neither of us wants to be the one to push it too far. I stretch out my hand, reaching for his under the covers, and he shifts closer to me. A happy sigh slips from between my lips as his legs bump against mine, and I roll onto my side so his chest fits up against my back. The tension instantly releases, his arm comes to rest over my waist and our intertwined hands lay on the bed in front of me.
My thumb traces his against the white cotton, and I burrow back as close as I can get to my boyfriend. It’s weird how… Perfect this feels. Like this is where I was always meant to be. We rest in easy silence, but just when I think he’s not awake he starts to speak.
“It all comes down to this,” Cam murmurs, his warm breath puffing against the back of my neck as his arms tighten around me. “If we win this game, we go to playoffs.”
“Right.” I swallow hard. “No pressure.”
My back shakes with his laughter as Cam rests his forehead against my shoulder, breathing slowly in and out until he’s relaxed. The red curtains blink out of view as my eyes drift closed, and the sounds of the night threaten to consume my senses. My boyfriend’s heavy arms keep me grounded, and I hear his breathing get deeper as we slip into sleep.
Pounding hands on the door jar me awake. One eye opens, taking in the sunlight filtering through the gap in the curtains, and I start to register Chris Jenson’s voice on the other side of the door.
“Hello!” he calls, hitting the door again. “Are you guys alive? You’re gonna miss breakfast!”
“Coming,” I shout, tilting my head so it isn’t muffled by the pillow, then let my face drop back into the soft white pouf and groan. “Cam,” I speak into the pillow this time, reaching an arm over to shake his shoulder. “Camden… Wake up…”
“I’m awake,” he sighs, his voice gravelly with sleep, and a smile creeps across my face. “Think he woke up the whole hall?”
“Prolly,” I yawn, my jaw cracking from spreading so wide, then turn and rub my forehead into his chest. “Morning.”
“Morning,” Cam kisses the top of my head, warm arms wrapping around me and squeezing for a moment before relaxing but staying in place. “How are you feeling? Hungry?”
“Nervous,” I admit, closing my eyes again. “Think they’d notice if we stayed here all day?”
“Yes,” he chuckles, kissing my head again.
Cam rolls away from me and out of bed, dodging my reaching hands and ignoring the whiny noise I make as I chase his back. I crack an eye to watch him dig through his bag, emerging with sweats and a team shirt with a cougar blazed over the front. He then turns to mine, getting my set out as well as my hoodie. I watch until my view is hindered by the blue cotton he unceremoniously throws over my face.
“Hey!” I groan, sitting up and letting the hoodie fall to my lap. “I’m up, I’m up…”
“Come on, gorgeous,” he winks, sending butterflies through my bare chest. “We’ve gotta go get breakfast.”
I slide off the side of the bed, stretch, and grin to myself at the way I catch Cam staring at the band of my boxers as I do. My arms come to rest back at my sides and he looks hurriedly away, flushing and shoving his legs into his sweatpants. It would make sense for me to be embarrassed, but I’m really not. I guess there’s something about knowing that there really is no pressure, that Camden wants to take things slow and not rush into anything we’re going to regret, that makes me comfortable in all of the little thrills along the way.
When we’re both dressed and I’ve tugged my hoodie on over my head, bags slung over our shoulders, I start for the door. Cam catches me with a hooked finger to the back of my pants. He stops me short, and when I turn to face him he takes each side of my hood in one hand and tugs me closer for one firm, toe-curling kiss that leaves a tightness in my stomach and has me catching my breath with a gasp. A Cheshire cat grin spreads across his face, and his blue eyes shine with glee at my reaction.
“I love you.”
“I love you too,” I breathe, and he slips past me into the hall.
The rest of the team is downstairs, bags next to their chairs on the ground as they talk and eat from white plates covered in assorted goodies from the continental breakfast buffet. Hotel staff roam with silver trays, switching them out regularly to keep up with the demand of a lobby full of teenage boys. I smile at each one we pass on our way to the line, filling my plate with various fruits and proteins and two muffins from the plastic pastry case before making my way to a table with two empty chairs. Samson is finishing his plate, and the other two seniors next to him are already done.
After breakfast we all pile into the bus, and it takes us to the other side of town where the high school and stadium are. As soon as we get off Coach Baxter leads the entire team in some stretching before we break into groups to really get warmed up for today’s game. Today our trainer, Brock, is working with our group.
He leads us through high knee drills on the ladder, then brings us over to the side to work on jump cuts. I shake my shoulders loose as I wait for my turn, then sprint from my starting position to the cone at the end of the run. When I get there Brock yells ‘right’ or ‘left’ and I have to make a sideways jump to the cone positioned several feet away on whichever side he indicates. We do this over and over, stretching our hips and thighs until we’re ready to dominate in this game.
By the time they release us for lunch, I’m feeling the burn in my abs. It’s a relief to fill my bottle with an electrolyte drink and collect a familiar yellow box of chicken strips from the fold out table, smiling in gratitude at the booster club moms handing them out. I sit in the middle of the grassy area, leaning my back against a tree for support, and am soon joined by Jenson and Camden.
We chat and joke as we eat our food, but as soon as our trash goes in the garbage there’s a tangible shift in the air. My teammates begin to filter into the visitor’s locker room, sipping on water and changing into the base layers of our uniforms. Around the room people are stretching back out, ensuring they’re in the best shape possible before we go out there. Arms wheel through the air, and I duck around them as I make my way to an open place on the bench to get myself ready and in the zone.
After reading a good luck text from my parents, I tuck my phone into the pocket of my bag and chuck it into my assigned cubby for the day. This is it; today will either be the end of our real season, or the start of playoffs. It’s all riding on that final score. I swallow the thick knot that’s found its way into my throat, wondering if I maybe should have gone for something lighter at lunch.
A water bottle sits on the bench, but my stomach recoils at the thought of even that. I take a slow breath, hoping to calm these last minute nerves, and shake my limbs out as we wait for our signal that it’s time to head out to the field. There’s a brush against my hand, so light I might not have noticed if not for the spark of electricity that seems to arch between us as he pulls away. Cam. I look up to see him smiling at me, winking then reaching across his body to stretch out his shoulder.
“You’re gonna be great,” he says with confidence. “It’s just a game.”
“Right,” I huff out a laugh, rolling my neck. “Just a game. It’s a big game, though.”
“It could be,” he shrugs. “Or it could be a blip in the radar. But either way, all we can do is play our best and enjoy it, yeah?”
“Did Coach hire you to give the pregame speech?” I raise an eyebrow and he rolls his eyes, a slightly pink tinge coming to his cheeks. “It’s working.”
“Shut up,” he grins, bumping his shoulders against mine for a moment before we all stand straighter.
Mike Samson has just come back through the door, clapping his hands together and bouncing in place. There’s a smile on his face, but he looks far from relaxed as his feet shift on the floor, nodding and looking around the room.
“This is it, guys… Y’all ready?”
Shouts and cheers erupt all around me, unintelligible noise as the guys pump themselves and each other up. I feel a grin take over my face, my nerves melting completely away as I join in on the cacophony, which doesn’t stop as Samson turns and leads us out the door, slapping the top of the doorframe on his way out. Most of us follow suit, increasing our bouncing walk to a jog as we leave the building and start for the field.
Our band strikes up the fight song, and we break into a run as we enter and breach the tunnel. Beside us the cheerleaders dance, blue and silver tinsel shimmering through the air, and in front of us run members of the color guard with our school flag of a cougar leaping out of a C and over an F and banners with the school’s initials. The crowd cheers as we pour out of the inflatable helmet, slowing to a stop and waving up at our friends and family members. It’s hard to believe how many of them came all this way to watch the game, until I remember that this is the last away game ever for some of these guys.
Well… Let’s give them a show.
I lose myself to the game, letting the adrenaline flow through me as we line up and prepare for kickoff. And then we’re off.
My time is measured in downs, in snaps, in the crunch of pads against pads as the defensemen keep us from progressing. Sitting on the sidelines watching our defense at work, I wince as I see the home team’s quarterback push through the gap. He makes it past our line despite the fight our d-men put on, stepping firmly into the endzone as cries go up from the stands behind us.
Samson gets them back in the second quarter, putting up a score on the board with a beautiful touchdown gained by the skin of his teeth and a whole lot of luck. It’s what my dad would call a good game, back and forth with high tension and low scoring. We gain yards, they knock us back. We fight back, they slip up and earn a penalty.
We’re tied at halftime, and the tension in the locker room could be cut with a knife. We all know what’s at stake here, for many of us this could be our first year to go for a state championship… But for the seniors, Samson and the others, this is their last chance. I nod and clap with the others as Coach gives his speech, but I’m really only half listening. The only thing going through my mind is that we have to win this game, for their sake.
When he’s finished we stand and cheer, shaking our bodies out and stretching last minute before we follow Samson out of the locker room and head back to the field for the second half. It’s an aggressive push from the kickoff as we fight for every yard we can claim, but we find ourselves pushed back.
Gritting my teeth, I scan the field as we prepare for the start of the next play. Cam’s in position on the left side of the field, ready to guard Samson against the offensive linemen rolling their shoulders on the other side of the ball. When it’s snapped into play I pace myself just ahead of Mike, keeping an eye out for any window, and we spot it at the same time.
