Page 58 of Full Tilt
“Think your folks would go to a game?” he asks.
“Oh, hell no.” I grin. “My mom would bring a sunhat the size of a dinner table and spend the whole time complaining about heat stroke. And my dad would try to start a chant and get ejected from the stands for swearing at the ref.”
Camden snorts, amused.
I hesitate a beat, then shrug, softer now. “Okay, fine. I’m full of shit. They’d absolutely love it. Especially if it was for you.”
His head tilts, eyes narrowing slightly, but there’s a flicker of something warmer behind them. “Yeah?”
I nod, quieter this time. “Yeah. You’re… becoming important.”
The corner of his mouth lifts, just enough to knock the breath from my chest. Camden’s smile blooms fully then—rare, unguarded. “I kinda want to meet them.”
It’s playful, but the words echo louder than they should. The smile drops from my lips a little, not because I’m not happy, but because that meant something. That hint of future. Of things mattering more than just right now.
“I think they’d like you,” I say, quiet and honest.
Camden looks down at the bottle in his hand, that smile still tugging at one corner of his mouth, like he’s trying not to let it settle too deep. Then he gives a gentle shrug. “Well, your brother already likes me. That’s a start.”
I snort. “Don’t even. I’m still recovering from Cosmo trying to emotionally adopt you via group chat.”
He smirks. “He said I was broody.”
“You are broody.”
“And you’re nosy.”
“Touché.”
We lapse into a beat of silence that’s not awkward at all, just soft and steady. The kind that makes you aware of how close someone is, of the shape of the air between you.
I shift again, this time a little closer, my hand brushing his thigh as I set my beer down. He doesn’t move away. He just watches me with that thoughtful gaze of his—heavy-lidded, not quite smiling.
“You nervous about the US trip?” I ask, voice low.
Camden exhales slowly, then nods. “A bit. Not for the games. It’s more… just being visible again. Press stuff. Fan stuff. New crowds. New eyes.”
“Old ghosts?”
“Some of those too.”
I rest my hand over his. “You don’t need the pep talk. But I believe in you.”
His gaze drops to our hands, and for a second, I think he might pull away. Instead, he turns his palm and links our fingers. “Yeah?”
I nod. “Definitely. And I’ll be back home for a bit, too, remember? Just for the week, but… maybe I’ll catch one of those games if there’s an overlap.”
Camden lifts an eyebrow. “You’d come?”
“Habersham’s two hours away from Jacksonville,” I say with a shrug. “Seems like a waste not to. Besides…” I squeeze his fingers gently. “Wouldn’t mind seeing you on the pitch again.” Though truth be told, all being well, I’ll be getting a ticket for his next home game.
His throat works as he swallows. “I’ll send you the schedule.”
Another moment of quiet, this one heavier, not with tension but with possibility. I can feel the weight of it, sitting here between us. An invitation neither of us quite knows how to voice yet, but it’s there.
And neither of us is walking away.
Camden’s still holding my hand when he says, “If you do come to a game… it means telling Cosmo.”
