Cameron

The worst part about being a professional football player is having to keep up with the fame. It doesn't matter that (as other people claim) I'm one of the best players the league has ever seen. Management wants to profit off of me, and I quickly learned after I first got signed that it was easier to accept their advice and participate in doing these magazine covers and endorsements. Otherwise, if I declined, I started offending companies and influential people I really shouldn't be offending, thus tainting my image and causing more rumors in the press that caused me more trouble than simply agreeing to the deal in the first place.

And at first, I didn't mind agreeing with them. Yeah, it kept the media off my back, but it also allowed me to put away money for Izzy and any future kids Maddie and I may or may not have. Any money I make from endorsements or photo shoots goes to my family.

That's the only reason I'm allowing Katie to be draped over me in a string bikini. Well, that and ensuring Maddie's video is kept safe until I figure out how the hell to handle this.

As much as I'd love to think Katie won't ever speak to me again after this, I'm not that naive. There's always going to be more favors, more requests... I'll never truly get rid of her until I put a stop to this for good.

"Cameron, look this way," the photographer shouts over the fans blowing Katie's blonde hair in the wind. I clench my jaw and look in the direction he's wanting, and thankfully, being pissed and broody is precisely how they want me to look. "Perfect!" He shouts.

Katie's hand moves lower down my oiled-up abdomen, hovering above the band of my shorts. "Move it," I seethe between my teeth. I'm clenching my molars so hard I'm afraid they'll crack.

"Oh, come on," she teases, letting out a giggle. The cameras shutter in response. "It's for a photoshoot, Cam."

"Cameron," I correct, "and we can take photos without your hand near my dick."

"You used to love it when I did this," she says, running her fingertips back and forth. "Remember? When we'd get a moment alone in your dorm room and I'd—"

Physically grabbing her hand myself, I shove her away from me and storm off the set. We've been taking pictures for almost an hour now. If there's not a decent shot, then they need to hire a new photographer.

"So temperamental," she chides, following right on my heels. "I have to admit, the anger thing is working for you."

I keep my mouth shut, not wanting to give her the satisfaction, and as soon as I reach my dressing room, I swing the door in her face, but she stops it with her arm, smiling devilishly. "Thank you for the photos," she says sweetly. "I'm sure we'll be in touch soon."

Finally, I'm surrounded by silence, and I collapse against the wall, softly hitting my forehead against the plaster. I knew going into this would be hell, but, just as expected, she's not ending this any time soon.

It's been a month and a half since she sent that email. When will her next one come? Until I can figure out a way to stop this, I'm going to be holding my breath every single day until her next task comes through.

My phone is sitting on a plush chair in the corner of the room, and I have several text messages from Maddie. Rightly so, she's been wary of today and how it would go, and she won't be pleased when she sees the images of Katie's hands all over me. She knew before I came here today that it would be a potential, and although she was furious, she knew why I had agreed to do it.

Maddie: Hey, you okay?

Maddie: How's the shoot going?

Maddie: Did they put oil on you again?

The last text makes me laugh, and to put her out of her misery, I quickly reply.

Me: Tons of it. The shoot was horrible, as expected. You won't like the magazine once it comes out. Katie made sure to make her hand placement very strategic, to say the least.

Maddie: I'm burning every copy I find, and then, when I find leverage against her, I'll make sure my hand placements are strategic, too, as soon as I can lay them on her (again).

A smile lingers as I take a towel from the hook on the door and begin to wipe off the oil. I miss her and Izzy so fucking much. I'm counting down the weeks until they're both finally home and in my arms again. As soon as they get here, I'll be able to show her what I've worked tirelessly on putting together for us. I just hope she likes it. I hope they both do.

Me: I'll help you. How's Iz?

Maddie: Missing you <3

Attached is a picture of Izzy curled up on Maddie's chest, sleeping soundly, and sucking away on her thumb. Instantly, a dagger is pressed into my heart at the sight, but I'm quick to remind myself that I'll be the one to hold her in only three weeks. We're so close.

For now, Maddie's being a badass doctor-in-training studying her sexy little ass off, and I've never been more proud of her. This is what she was born to do, and it makes the photoshoot I had to sit through all the more bearable. Eventually, this will all be worth it.

Me: I miss my girls. I'll be waiting for you both at the gate, baby. I'll be the first one there.

***

When I return to my apartment, I nearly jump out of my skin when my best friend Ethan is sitting on a barstool by the kitchen island. He lives in Phoenix with a wife that's pregnant with a baby on the way. What the hell is he doing here?

"What the hell are you doing here?" I ask, speaking my mind.

Ethan scoffs. "What a way to say hello. Am I not allowed to visit?"

"You know you're always allowed over, but you never show up unannounced. What gives?" I set my keys and wallet down on the counter, leaning my back up against the stainless steel refrigerator. He's on the approved list of visitors, so I'm not surprised my doorman let him up.

"My lovely sister may or may not have mentioned that the she-devil herself was back in the picture and that you'd have a shitty day today. She sent me here herself to take you out for some drinks."

"Maddie sent you?"

His lips tilt up into a grin. "With your money, of course."

"It's our money. Don't be a dick. Your sister can use our account however she sees fit." And my heart swells twice the size that she was concerned enough about me to do this. "Maya isn't pissed you're here?"

"Honestly, she was thrilled to have me away for the weekend. Her pregnancy hormones are..." He shudders, raking a hand through his dirty blonde hair. "Half the time, she doesn't want me around her. I've learned to keep my mouth closed and feed her whatever she desires. It's worked so far."

It bothers me that I can't relate to him on this or give him advice on how to handle it. I wish I had been there when Maddie was pregnant with Izzy. I have pictures and videos, but it's nothing compared to experiencing the real thing. And the person who got us into that situation, to begin with, is back with a vengeance.

Ironic.

But Katie isn't going to win again. Not this time. Maddie and I are a solid force, and I tell her everything. Nothing will ever be hidden between us again.

"So, drinks?" He asks, snapping me out of my thoughts. A sympathetic expression runs across his eyes from my lack of response to his previous question, but thankfully, he doesn't bring it up again.

As much as drinks sound good, I don't want to go anywhere in Los Angeles right now, especially after that godforsaken photoshoot.

"Can we just order pizza and beer and chill here? Is that okay with you?" A night in with my best friend, just like our old days in high school, is exactly what I need, and I make a mental note to call Maddie later to thank her. She and Izzy are genuinely the greatest blessings in my life. Without them, I'm not sure I'd still be playing professional football.

Ethan arches a brow. "Depends. Do you have Call of Duty?"

Letting out a chuckle, I take two strides to the island and clap him on the back of his shoulder. Although he's been here a few times to visit with Maya, he's never seen my game room, where I have every console known to exist. "Ethan, you might just die and go to heaven. Follow me."