“It’s a young man’s game,” the woman to his left said. “Once you hit thirty, you’re pretty much done for.”
Brian frowned. “That’s not true. What about Brady? He’s forty something.” Brian drummed his fingers on the table in front of him. His black hair was pulled into a low pony tail.
“He doesn’t take the impacts like a safety.” The woman shrugged. “Anyway, good luck with retirement.”
Cam could tell Brian was getting irate from the way his finger drumming increased in tempo. “It’s okay, man,” he said, reaching out to calm his assistant’s hands. “This is a football town. I gotta get used to it.”
“Yeah, well they wouldn’t like it if I talked about their job like that.” Brian gritted his teeth.
Cam pressed his lips together. “You know I’m still gonna take care of you, right? I’ll need you even if I’m not playing football. Or if you want to k
eep with a player, I’ll give you a recommendation.”
Nearly every professional player he knew needed some kind of assistant to keep their lives running smoothly while they concentrated on the game. Brian did everything for him, from making sure the bills were paid and the house in order, to liaising with Cam’s manager and arranging for endorsements and sponsorships. He’d be nowhere without him.
Brian sighed. “I know. It’s not that. I just don’t like the way they were talking.”
Neither did Cam. But he knew better than to react. The problem was, everywhere he went in Boston he was recognized. This was a football town, the Bobcats were the biggest celebrities around. These kind of questions were going to crop up again and again.
And if he retired, it was probably going to get worse.
“I think I might go home for a while,” Cam said, his brows knitting together while he thought about it. “While I’m on a break from the team.”
“To Beacon Hill?”
He shook his head. “To Hartson’s Creek. Spend a bit of time with my family.” He had three brothers and a sister, and all of them were there. Gray, the oldest, who’d spent years touring the world as a singer, but had since settled down with Maddie Clark and had babies. Tanner, the youngest, who’d transformed from a New York computer whizzkid to buying up half the real estate in Hartson’s Creek, after he’d reconnected with his childhood best friend. They’d gone on to set up a home together.
And then there was Logan. Cam’s twin brother. He’d lived in Boston for years, and though the two of them were always busy, they’d spent lots of time together. But he’d moved back home, too, and become a father to a gorgeous little boy. Cam missed him like crazy every day. Boston wasn’t the same without him.
“You want me to book you a flight? How long will you be gone?”
Cam met Brian’s concerned gaze. “I think I’ll drive. It’ll save me renting a car while I’m there.”
“You’re gonna drive? Won’t that take you forever?”
About ten hours, if he kept to the speed limit. Maybe more if he needed to stop. But the good thing about driving was he’d be alone with his thoughts. Nobody to ask him why he wasn’t playing football, no reminders of the life he could lose. Just him, some rock music, and the wide open road.
And the truth was, he needed his family. His real family, not the one he’d built here. Needed to remember who he was and who he used to be, before he was Cam Hartson, Star Safety.
If he was ever anybody else.
“You’re gonna retire, aren’t you?” Brian asked quietly. Cam glanced to the couple who’d been showing him interest. They were staring at the big screens hanging over the bar, squabbling over something and paying him no attention.
There was only one answer. It had been that way all along, he’d just been too damn stubborn to admit it. Keep playing and risk permanent injury that would change who he was, or leave the game he loved with his damn head intact.
But he still wasn’t ready to accept it.
Giving Brian a tight smile, he shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea what I’m going to do next.”
Chapter Two
Mia Devlin pulled her car onto the driveway and blew out a mouthful of air. Craning her head over her shoulder, she painted a fake smile on her face. “We’re here,” she said to the two boys sitting in the backseat. Her eldest son, Michael, had his headphones on, and was resolutely staring out of the window at the cracked pavement, as though fascinated by the brilliant pink flowers growing through the gaps.
He’d been this way since they’d left their old home in Kansas City yesterday morning. She had no idea what he was listening to – if he was listening to anything at all – but she sure got the message.
He wasn’t happy about this move.
Her youngest, Josh, was asleep. At eight years old, this move to a new town was an adventure to him, like the stories he read in his bed late at night when she’d caught him under his duvet with a flashlight. For most of the journey, he’d had his face pressed against the window, his eyes wide as they traveled from built up metropolis to farm fields and small towns.