Page 43 of You Are Cordially Invited

I kept Cam’s hand locked in mine and turned to find him flushed and smiling, his eyes dancing with undisguised glee. It almost took my breath away. Dodging the paparazzi wasn’t a favourite sport of ours, but having a crowd of people to share it with was kind of epic.

Not that the feeling lasted.

Locks popped and we tumbled into the safety of our vehicles, thanking the stars we’d prepaid the parking fee, only to find ourselves immediately surrounded and locked in place.

“Jerks,” Sandy muttered.

“Can we back up?” Mac asked, trying to see out the rear window. “There’s no one behind us.”

“No, there are blocks behind the rear tyres,” Mark answered. “I backed in thinking it would make for an easier exit.”

“Just start the car and we’ll see what they do as we inch forward,” Mac directed.

“How are you feeling a week before the wedding?” Kelvin Greene, one of the sports journalists shouted from beside my door. “Are you nervous?”

I ignored the guy. He was one of the worst offenders.Fuck. I hated when we got caught like this. Hated putting Cam through it every damn time. Hated that this was a part of our lives we couldn’t just walk away from.

It had eased a bit over the last year, but with adopting Cory and then the wedding, interest was almost back to what we’d put up with when I’d first come out. My heart squeezed at what the news of a baby was likely to do. They’d be salivating for sure, and how the hell was Stella going to cope with something like this?

Was it even fair to put her in that position?

Were we really doing the right thing?

Cam sat wedged between Sandy and me in the back seat. He kept his head up, eyes forward, not hiding—that had never been his way. He smoothed his hair and glanced sideways at the cameras and phones shoved up against the windows of Ed’s car, his face a picture of serenity.

It was a well-proven approach.

Outside of a game, the media focused way more on Cam than me. The makeup, the clothes, the fabulousness he wore so effortlessly. He was a conundrum they couldn’t get enough of—fem and whip-smart but also strongly masculine with a fuckton of leadership and take-charge attitude. Well, join the club.

They couldn’t pigeonhole him, and it drove them crazy. They ached for him to slip up and give them something salacious to print: a snarky comment or a drama queen moment to feed to their readers. He never did, but I hurt for him, nonetheless. It was so tempting to let loose on their bad manners and ignorant comments.

“Will it affect your game, Reuben?” Kelvin pressed.

“Who are your best men?” A woman’s face leaned close on the other side of the glass and it was all I could do not to turn and give her the furious footage she so craved. “Cam, are you wearing a dress?” she addressed him.

Cam snorted but said nothing.

“What do you think about your father’s interview?” someone on Sandy’s side of the car shouted. He leaned forward to block the person’s view.

Cam and I glanced at each other and his hand tightened around mine, the unspoken question lying large between us.What bloody interview?

“Is he right?” the same woman pushed. “Are you stopping Cory from seeing his grandfather?”

Oh for fuck’s sake.Too bloody right we were.It was called a restraining order. There was no way my scum of the earth father was getting anywhere near Cory, not after trying to give him away to his dead mother’s dropkick family in the past, just to make his own life easier, and to punish me for being gay. The order didn’t extend to us, but at least Cory was safe.

“Is your father invited to the wedding?”

No fucking way.

“They put a scratch on this baby and Edward’s gonna skin me alive,” Mark grumbled, trying to inch forward through the throng.

“Walk it back, guys,” Jasmine’s voice broke through the shouts and tangle of questions as she pushed her way through the throng to stand beside Mark’s driver’s door. “Let them leave, or I’ll have you for obstruction.”

“Like hell you will. We’ve a right to be here,” some ballsy guy I didn’t recognise challenged Jasmine. He clearly hadn’t run up against her before.

She walked straight up to the jerk and stood toe to toe. “That won’t stop me fucking you up in legal shit for a good long while though, will it? Wanna call my bluff, arsehole?”

The crowd thinned in front of the car as people grumbled and argued but moved to the side, and Mark slowly pressed forward until we’d finally left the crowd behind and were safely on our way.

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