Page 96 of Full Tilt
She nods and squeezes Cam’s arm. “I can’t wait for the game, Cam.”
Only my parents and Rachel will be at Cam’s first game in Jacksonville—Calvin and Tony can’t swing it with their game schedule, but they’ve already promised they’ll be there for the final game in Atlanta, when I’ll be back in the UK. It’s weird, thinking I won’t be there to see it live. But I know what this trip has meant, and I’m glad they’ll be there to cheer him on.
Cam shoots me a quiet look as we reach the borrowed truck—Dad’s, since it’s roomier than mine and Cam can stretch out his long-ass legs. He’s not saying much. Neither am I, really.
The drive starts out quiet. The hum of tyres on road is the only sound between us for the first few minutes, but it’s not uncomfortable—just… weighted. Like we’re both turning over everything that’s happened this week, everything we haven’t quite said yet.
Cam settles into the passenger seat with a low, gravelly sigh that says more than words could. He doesn’t fidget—he never does—but his silence feels heavier than usual. Me? I’m gripping the wheel like the damn thing might escape if I ease up. The air between us feels taut. Like it’s waiting for one of us to breathe too deep and set everything off.
I glance over at him as we ease onto I-95. The sunlight cuts across his face in sharp angles, making the faint bruise beneath his eye more pronounced. He’s not looking at me, just watching the trees blur by outside the window. There’s something almost… guarded about him. Like he’s gearing up for a tackle.
“You okay?” I ask, voice soft.
He nods. Just once.
We lapse back into silence. A few miles later, we pass a billboard for boiled peanuts and gator jerky, and normally I’d make a crack. Cam would huff, half amused, half horrified. But right now, I can’t summon the nerve.
I think about what Mom said. About permanence. About love and roots and home.
And then I think about Cam. Cam, who is fiercely private. Cam, who plays rugby like it’s a war and carries the weight of every single teammate on his back. Cam, who lets me hold him when he thinks no one’s watching.
I swallow hard. “Listen,” I say finally, just as the truck rumbles past a semi, “about earlier… with my mom.”
His head turns slightly. “I heard enough to get the gist.”
Of course he did.
I wince. “Didn’t mean for you to hear it like that. I was gonna talk to you. I just… I hadn’t figured out how to yet.”
His brow lifts, gaze pinning me. “Figured out what?”
I breathe in deep, my eyes locked on the road. “That being with you changes things for me. Like… long term.”
Silence again. And then, slowly, “Meaning?”
“Meaning I was never really sure if I’d stay in the UK for good. But I could. If you wanted me to.”
Cam exhales like I’ve punched him in the chest. “You’d… do that?”
“If it meant being with you?” I glance at him. “Yeah. I would.”
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he sits there, turning that over like a stone in his palm. Eventually, he mutters, “That’s a lot.”
“I know.”
“And we’ve only just started calling each other boyfriends.”
“Also true.”
“But you’d move countries for me.”
“I’dstayin a country for you,” I clarify gently. “It’s not like I hate it there. I’ve got the shop, I’ve got friends. I like the pace. But it didn’t feel like home until you.” He already knows I’m eligible for citizenship next year too.
That gets his attention. He shifts in his seat, finally facing me fully. “You serious?”
“Dead serious.” My voice cracks a little, and I smile to soften it. “Though if I’d known you’d tackle the shit out of my heart this fast, I might’ve bought an emotional helmet.”
That earns a low laugh. It’s small but real, and the tension in his shoulders bleeds out just a touch.
