Page 1 of Trust Me Always

CHAPTER ONE

Cameron

“You’ve either got biggerballs than the ones I saw or you’re looking to get your ass kicked.” I cross my arms over my chest, not giving two shits that the door he needs is the one behind me. In fact, I’m purposely blocking this entrance to keep my friends inside and this fucker out here on the lawn. If he gets by me or follows my ass inside, the boys will pounce, and it won’t be pretty. From what I’ve heard, they’re already giving him shit on the practice field, and the season hasn’t even officially started yet.

Wait, why am I protecting him from that?

I sidestep, leaning against the doorframe, and decide that, if he wants to go in, I won’t hate what happens after. We both know he deserves to get reamed.

Alister’s shoulders fall, and he shuffles closer. “You haven’t returned any of my calls and I didn’t see you all summer.”

“And somehow you convinced yourself that meant I wanted to see you face-to-face rather than understanding it for what it is: a big, fat sign telling you to back off.”

His green eyes are crestfallen, and he nods, a sad tip to his lips. “I tried, Cam. I left you alone after you told me to fuck off on Christmas.”

“You called and texted me all summer long, Alister.”

“I said I tried, right?” He gives a pitiful smile, and I hate that he looks cute when he does it. “I gave you space after everything that went down and didn’t bother you all spring semester. Thatwas hard enough when you never even let me apologize, so when June rolled around and I realized you went home for the summer, I couldn’t help myself. It’s been almost eight months, Cam, and look at me.” He lifts his hands, tilting his head slightly as his eyes hold mine. “Still over here missing you and wishing I didn’t fuck things up.”

I regard him for a long moment, despising the vulnerability the sight of him stirs and hating how I’m standing here wondering if what he’s saying is true.

Does he really wish he didn’t fuck things up?

Does he miss me?

Or is he just doubling down on the pretending, this time to get his teammates off his ass?

My bet is on the latter, even if the thought bothers me a little more than I’d like, so of course I remind him of how we got here in the first place—me hiding out from him and him doing his best to track me down on the daily.

“You lied to me, used me to get insider information about my family.”

“Mason isn’t your family,” Alister snaps instantly, and by the way he scrunches his face, I’d say he regrets it just as fast.

A humorless laugh leaves me, and I shake my head. “Yeah. This conversation is over.”

“Cameron, wait!” He reaches out, latching on to my wrist. “I’m sorry, okay?”

I yank myself free, quickly spinning to face him with a glare. “Clearly, you’re still sour over theliethat your ex-girlfriend told you, but honestly, Alister, get over it! You spent your first season as a college football player hating your team captain instead of leaning into him as a mentor like you should have. You made enemies you didn’t have to make all because a shitty girl—who clearly never cared about you by the way—was too much of a pussy to tell you she fucked some random guy she met at a bar and ended up pregnant. So I’ll say it again: get over it! Mason isn’t the enemy here.”

“You don’t think I’ve tried?!” He throws his hand out, a strain pulling at his brows. “I have, Cam.”

“You’ve said that word twice already:tried. Well, you know what? Try harder.” I narrow my eyes, moving farther into the house. “Because Mason isn’t just my best friend’s twin brother. I’ve known him all my life. Heismy family. They all are.” I point to the stairway behind me, knowing he’s smart enough to realize it’s not only Mason up there waiting for me but also the rest of our core friend group. “If you can’t even handle my saying the words, then you’re wasting your time talking to me.”

Why did I agree to step outside to talk to him?

Oh yeah, ’cause he said he would just knock on Mason’s door if I didn’t, and yeah, that wouldn’t end well.

Alister’s shoulders fall. “Nothing about you is wasted, Cameron.”

“Yeah, well, the two months I spent with you sure as hell were.”

I turn away, trying to hide the way my hands are shaking by tucking my hair behind my ears, and stomp up the stairs that lead to the captain’s quarters of the football house, hoping Alister gives up, if only for the moment.

But the gorgeous dickhead of a man waits until I’ve gotten one foot over the threshold of Mason’s room, every eye in the place now pointed my way, and shouts, “I’m going to change your mind, Cameron Cox, and I won’t give up on us until you do!”

I tense, my attention shooting to the couch, where Mason and the other boys I’ve known all my life are eating pizza from the box. Sure enough, all three of their glares swing toward the open door.

Of course, it’s not at all surprising when the one who flies to his feet first is the big, burly protector of our group.

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