She whips around, her green eyes going wide. “Camden Snow. How long have you known?”

  Head tipped back, I bark out a laugh. “Since Christmas.”

  Laughter sounds nearby, reminding me that we’re not alone. Damn. I was so focused on her I forgot our friends were here too.

  “Oh my god,” she says, turning to the group of women gathered near us. “You all knew too?”

  Sara holds up a hand. “Guilty.”

  “Assholes,” she bellows, but she’s smiling.

  Chuckling, I pull her against me. “To be fair, they really do weird couple things, and the sex class was Sara’s suggestion.”

  “I’ve been dying to do one for years,” she says without an ounce of shame. “It was the perfect excuse.”

  “Assholes,” Savannah mutters again.

  “Maybe, but we’re also your new besties. That’s official now that your man is looking like he wants to ravish you in that jersey, so you’re welcome.” Sara winks at her.

  “Come on, girls,” Hannah says. “Let’s give them some privacy.” They all filter out, laughing as they go, and Hannah squeezes my shoulder as she passes. “Happy for you.”

  I’m still grinning when Savannah turns to me, her lip between her teeth, and the room falls silent. “You’re not mad about the articles?”

  I cup her jaw and drag my thumb over her smooth skin. “No, baby girl, it explained why you were off your fucking rocker those first few weeks.”

  Her mouth is wide open again, so I take advantage and drag my tongue along her bottom lip, then go in for a kiss.

  She sighs. “So the moving in thing?” She lowers her gaze, her expression turning to one of uncertainty.

  “Was all me,” I tell her honestly. “I want this. I want you. Jesus, when I first saw you in my damn jersey, I nearly came in my pants.”

  She giggles, her cheeks going pink.

  “I’m serious. I’ve never felt this way about another person in my life.”

  She hums, a soft smile on her face, and pushes up on her toes. Before her lips can meet mine, though, my phone blares in my pocket.

  My heart sinks. The ringtone is the one I set specifically for my mother. “I’m sorry,” I mutter. “I have to get this.”

  I consider walking away so she doesn’t hear the conversation, but hell, I asked this woman to move in with me. I’m in love with her. And yet she doesn’t know anything about this huge part of my life. It’s ugly, and it paints me as the selfish person I used to be and often still am. But if I want her in my life for good, this is part of it, and I can’t continue to hide it. So with a deep breath, I stay by her side and slide my thumb over the screen. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Camden,” she breathes as I bring the phone to my ear. “I can’t find your father. He’s not answering his phone.”

  I press my fingers into my forehead. I can’t tell her the truth. The doctors have told us it’s best to just redirect her and calm her down. Telling her my father is dead and isn’t coming home repeatedly is cruel. “Mom. Where’s Cora?”

  My mother sobs. “Cora ran away. You know that.”

  A groove forms between Savannah’s brows as she studies me, but she doesn’t leave.

  “Mom, take a deep breath. It’s going to be okay.” I bring the phone down and tap out a quick message to my sister but before I can even hit send I hear her voice.

  “Sorry, Cam,” my sister says, her voice far away. There’s a rustling, and when she speaks again, her words are clear. “I got her. Mom,” she says in a soothing tone, “it’s okay.”

  The line goes dead, but I don’t drop my phone. I’m too drained to move.

  “Camden,” Savannah says, voice soft.

  My heart hammers in my chest. How is it possible to go from such a high to such a low in a matter of seconds? Why is this always my life? Every time something good happens, I’m reminded of how quickly life can shift. I’m reminded that nothing lasts. That I don’t deserve happiness.

  When I don’t respond, because my throat is too tight to get a word out, Savannah gently pries my phone from my hand.

  Eyes closing, I take a deep breath, trying to find words.

  “We don’t have to talk about it,” she says.

  “We do.” I lock eyes with the beautiful woman in front of me. She’s an anchor, keeping me from drowning in the storm that is my life. Life may be unfair, and I may have lost a lot, but she’s here, and she cares. I’ve been around long enough to know how rare that is. To find a person who will stand with me through the storm.

  “We lost my father in a plane crash. It was fucking awful.” I wince. “Obviously.” I shake my head. “My mother blamed me afterward. Rightfully so. The two of them were supposed to be at my game. It was a small plane. I’d chartered it so they could see me play.” I look out toward the ice. It’s easier than seeing the heartbreak reflected in Savannah’s eyes. “My sister had run away years earlier. That was also my fault.” My shoulders tighten and my stomach roils, the familiar shame and regret descending. As the emotions thicken, making it hard to breathe, I shake out my shoulders and look back toward Savannah.

  She’s still quietly waiting for me to tell my story. No trace of judgment on her face.

  “My sister had come back a month or so earlier, so my mom stayed home, too afraid that Cora would disappear again if she turned her back for more than a second. My dad came on his own. And then the plane went down.”

  Heat stings the backs of my eyes, but I refuse to let the tears come.

  “Anyway, she hated me after that. Our relationship was nearly nonexistent for almost a decade. But then she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, and this is a sick thing to say, but I got my mom back. Because she doesn’t remember that my dad is gone because of me. She doesn’t blame me anymore. But now I have to go through this.”

  I blow out a breath and squeeze my fists, tamping down the emotions threatening to break through. “Most of the time, she’s content with having my sister around. But I hate leaving Cora to do all the work, so I help as often as I can. The only problem is that after I visit, shit like this always happens. Either way, I’m a selfish fuck. If I stay away, which would be better for her mental state, that means all the responsibility falls on my sister⁠—”

  Savannah squeezes my hand. “Camden, I’m so sorry.”

  I shake my head. “Please don’t apologize. I don’t deserve it.”

  “Yes you do. And you’re not selfish for wanting a relationship with your mother. Or for wanting to give your sister a break. You’re not selfish for wanting a family and you’re not to blame for the plane crash.” She steps in closer, and her scent hits me, a soothing balm to my aching heart. “Shit happens. Life is unfair. You’re not a bad person for feeling that.”

  Chest tight, I reach for her. I don’t deserve her, but I need her. The moment she’s in my arms, a fraction of the weight lifts from my shoulders. It’s not a lot, but at least I can breathe.

  “He was my biggest fan. Even after I broke my sister’s heart, he still showed up. He was so damn proud of me. He was everything anybody could want in a dad,” I say, a sob escaping me on the last word.

  This is the first time I’ve allowed myself to cry in front of another person. And there’s been a lot to cry over in my life.

  Savannah squeezes me tight. “I’m sure he’s still proud of you. I wish I could have met him.”

  The tears come faster, my chest burning with emotion. “I wish he could have met you. Because you’re it for me. I’m sure of it. And he would have loved you.”

  She gives me a wobbly smile, her own eyes filling with tears. “You’re it for me too. I’ve never had this kind of connection with anyone. I’m glad you had a wonderful dad.” She sighs. “Mine pretty much hates me.”

  I wrap my arms around her waist and bury my face in her hair. How could anyone hate her? How could anyone—especially her parents—take her for granted?

  I deserve my mother’s anger. I’m to blame for Cora’s pain too. And I’ve come to terms with that burden. I shoulder the blame of my father’s death as well. But Savannah? I can’t imagine anything she could have done to deserve hatred from a parent.

  Frustration mounts inside me, slowing my tears. Because as those thoughts run through my mind, I see the irony of not believing I deserved the same unwavering support from my mother.

  “You’ll always have me, baby girl. We’ll have each other.” I grasp her face and tilt her head back, taking in the tears that track down her cheeks. “No more tears.” I press a kiss to each one.

  She laughs awkwardly and sucks in a shaky breath. “God, I didn’t see tonight going like this.”

  I give her a wry smirk. “No, I imagine you figured wearing my jersey would result in something very different.”

  She studies me, her eyes depthless and full of uncertainty. “You aren’t freaked out seeing me with your name on my back? Concerned I’m trying to wife you up?”

  I raise a brow, hiding the way my chest tightens at the thought. This woman as my wife? I can’t think of a damn thing I’d like more. “You been doodling our names together lately?”

  She gives me a small smile, and that ache that was oh-so-tender only moments ago eases. “Maybe.”

  I smirk. “Can I see?”

  “What?” She laughs, her eyes darting away.

  I scan the room, and when I spot a piece of paper on the bar, I dart for it, then go in search of a pen.

  “What are you doing?” Savannah asks as I return with the tools I need.

  I hit her with one of our looks, the one that tells her to be a good girl and be quiet for a moment, then I hold out the pen. “Show me.”

  “This is such a weird kink,” she teases. She gives me the kind of eye roll I seem to earn from her often, but her smile is bright as she takes the paper from me too. In her pretty, dramatic handwriting, she scrawls her first name. Then, after a second of hesitation, she adds my last name after it.

  “Savannah Snow,” I say aloud. That pinch in my chest releases. Or maybe it bursts. I think I could probably fly right now. I know I could score a fuck ton of goals.

  Savannah Snow. Fuck, those words look good together. Sound even better.

  I snatch the paper and her from her chair.

  “What are you doing?” she squeals.

  “We’re going to the tattoo shop,” I tell her as I collect my phone and her bag.

  “Are you out of your mind?” she asks, pushing back against me.

  I set her on her feet, gazing into her eyes. “Yup. I’m going to tattoo your name right here, baby.” I snag her by the wrist and press her hand to my heart.

  “Camden,” she whispers, looking at me in what can only be described as awe.

  “I love you, and I want your name on my chest.”

  She freezes, blinks twice, then exhales.

  “This is…” she whispers.

  Her voice dies there. Like she’s speechless. Like she can’t believe I said those words. But I can. The article she wrote was right. When it comes to her, I act as the exception. But only because she’s my exception. The one I want to spend the rest of my life with. The one I’ll spend my dying breath loving.

  “Meant to be,” I finish for her. “You’re mine, baby girl. I love you and you’re mine.”

  Tears fill her eyes again as she stares up at me. “I love you too.”

  Those words from her lips are the sweetest surprise. No one’s voiced that sentiment to me in decades. For most of my life, I’ve felt undeserving of love because of what I did to my sister. Cora would hate it if she knew. She’d want me to be happy, and she’d tell me to stop living in the past. So I don’t hesitate to accept the admission as truth from Savannah. She loves me.

  I sweep my mouth against hers. “Say it again.”

  “I love you,” she rasps, her lip quivering.

  I take her in a desperate kiss. I can’t get enough of her. “Again.”

  “I love you,” she says louder. Then she laughs, tears running down her cheeks. “I didn’t see tonight going this way either.”

  I smile. “I like to keep you on your toes. But tell me, how did you see tonight going?”

  She bites her lip, heat suddenly igniting in her eyes. “Figured you’d have me bent over, jersey bunched up, fucking me in a closet because you couldn’t wait.”

  I groan as the image materializes in my head. “We can definitely make that happen.” I grab her ass and pull her against me. “After the tattoo.”

  She peers up at me, eyes misty. “You’re really doing this?”

  “Yeah, baby, I’m really doing this.”

  Two hours later, she sits by my side while I get her name inked on my chest, and when the artist shows us the finished product, she turns to him and says, “Do me now.”

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  SAVANNAH

  Addie: Happy move-in day! Wish I could help.

  Me: Thanks, babe, but there isn’t much to move. It’s a perk of being non-sentimental and cheap.

  Josie: Good luck at your game, Addie! And don’t worry, she turned my help down too. She’s all about my mom and your aunts now. We’re old news.

  Me: Oh my god. Shut up, you jealous whore!

  Josie: Oh, a new nickname. I like it.

  Sutton: So MY way of doing things apparently wasn’t so bad after all, huh? You got a boyfriend and a new roommate out of it.

  Me: Haha. Yes, thank you, Sutton. I forgot to tell you girls—he FREAKING KNEW about the articles.

  Josie: Wait! Why haven’t you called me to explain this already? I’m actually Jealous Whore Barbie now. WTF?

  Me: Sorry, the last 24 hours have been a whirlwind. I even got a tattoo!

  Sutton: Holy crap! Send pics!

  Camden bends down to pick up a box, and with that perfect bubble butt on display like that, I can’t resist giving it a good smack. “C’mere, babe.”

  Over his shoulder, he smirks. “Don’t hate the nickname, but if you want my attention, you know how to get it.”

  I roll my eyes. “Fine. Daddy.” I can’t even hide the stupid smile that graces my lips. “Could you please come here and take a picture of your new branding with me so I can show the girls how I own you?”

  Eyes dancing, he slowly drags his shirt over his head. Everything is a show with him. And it’s all for me. I love every second of it.

  And when he removes the bandage covering his tattoo, my heart skips a beat. I still can’t believe he got my name—followed by fucking Snow—tattooed over his heart. It’s so permanent.

  “Fuck.” I pant, unable to catch a breath as it all hits me again.

  Camden’s cocky smirk goes soft. “I know, baby girl.”

  I shake my head, my eyes going to his. “I have to keep reminding myself that this is real. That you’re really here, with my name inked on your skin and—” I roll my lips, my emotions building, making it hard to speak.

  “Loving you,” he finishes for me, stepping close. He gently grasps my chin and tilts my head up. “I know, baby girl. People like us, we don’t trust it. But trust this: I love you. And I’m so damn proud to be branded with your name.”

  I tug my lip between my teeth. “Well, it’s really your name.”

  His expression turns stern. It’s the kind of look that gets me wet. “Don’t make me take you over my lap and remind you that it will be yours as soon as you’re ready.”

  As soon as I’m ready? I exhale sharply.

  He dives in, his mouth on mine. I sink into him. Sink into this feeling. Never in my life has another person read me so well. This man knows precisely what to do to quiet my racing thoughts.

  With his hands on my ass, he lifts me up and sets me on the bed. Then he tears my leggings down, wedges himself between my thighs, and drags his tongue against me in the most deliciously dirty way, making my toes curl.

  “Why the fuck do you always taste so good?” He curses against my thigh. “I could stay between these legs for days, baby girl. I’m never going to get enough.”

  Head falling back, I thrust my hips, pushing myself against his mouth. “Good, because I’ll never get enough of this.”

  With a hum that only drives me higher, he gets back to work, teasing me with long strokes.

  My phone buzzes over and over. The sound makes me grin. The girls—mainly Josie—are probably teasing me about getting distracted.

  They wouldn’t be wrong. Camden Snow and his wicked tongue are completely distracting. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  We get carried away twice more, fucking on my kitchen counter and then in the shower. Once we’re finally cleaned up, we gather a few more boxes. It’s not quite everything, but my lease doesn’t end until April, so I can come back for the rest when I have time.

  “What about these?” Camden points to the three boxes sitting on the kitchen table.

  They’re full of memories. Items from when I was a kid. Photos from college and high school. The only picture I have of my mom and me together is in there too.

  I shake my head. I don’t want the past to touch what we have. I can’t avoid my mother, and I really haven’t been trying. She’s the one who hasn’t returned my calls lately. But for now, I’d rather not think about her.

  The box on the end, though, snags my attention. Some of my fall decorations are inside, I think. Along with a few toys I loved as a kid and couldn’t bring myself to part with. Stepping up to the table, I pick it up. “Just this one.”

  He presses a kiss to my lips and takes it from me. “Okay, baby girl. Let’s go home.”

  My breath catches, and a goofy smile spreads across my face. “Home.”

  That word and the big smile he’s directing at me make my heart flutter. The excitement dancing in his eyes makes me believe this means as much to him as it does to me.