Running Back (New York Leopards 2)

I read it without blinking. It was a gorgeous article, and the accompanying photography was stunning, but I fixated on a little piece of filler description: “It’s very clear that the archaeologist and the running back are in love.”

Very clear.

Except I’d never managed to say it to him. Not once.

* * *

I was on a mission.

I stormed into Cam’s bar, brushing past the surprised doorman, and almost knocking into three customers as I marched to the front of the bar. Cam looked up and waved. I stopped before her and took a deep breath. “Cam. Have I even told you I love you?”

A couple of the patrons looked up at my brusque, almost aggressive tone. Cam just raised her brows. “Why? Did I do something? Are you taking it back?”

“No. I mean—it’s a real question.”

Surprise crossed her face, and then she shrugged. “I’m sure you have.”

“Really? You can remember?”

She paused to think about it. “Well—I guess I can’t explicitly remember.”

I knew it. I hadn’t. I planted my hands on the bar and leaned forward. “Camille Chan. I love you.” I immediately felt lighter.

Cam didn’t seem to notice. She just screwed up her face affectionately. “Aw, I love you too.”

“Ow-ow!” a frat-ish guy hollered from behind me.

Cam jerked up her head. “Shut up or you’re kicked out.”

I slumped on a stool. “Oh my God. I’ve never said ‘I love you’ before.”

Cam started putting together something blue and high-proof. “That’s ridiculous.”

“No, it’s true. Who would I say it to? My parents? My dad and I don’t. My mom. I can’t remember. I think she tells me, occasionally—noticeably when she moved out, but I don’t. And you’ve been my best friend for seven years.” I shook my head. “I’m emotionally stunted I’m a freak. Maybe a sociopath.”

“You are not a sociopath.”

“Maybe I am!”

“Stop it.”

I took a deep breath. “He said he loved me, and I wasn’t able to say it back.”

She raised her brows. “Maybe you don’t actually love him.”

I met her gaze, and her face softened. “Oh, Natalie.

“I just miss him so much and I want to see him and I don’t know how.” I tried to subdue the misery in my tone.

I must not have done a very good job, because Cam handed the blue concoction to me along with a sympathetic smile. “Maybe you’ll run into him somewhere. On the subway.”

I smiled wryly in return. “Maybe. If we lived in a rom-com.”

“God, I wish. Then work would always just be a montage of me doing dishes and pulling pints but thirty seconds of fast music later I’d be out having fun.”

“I don’t think dishes would make it into the montage.”

“Huh. Yeah. I guess they’re usually about the couple moping. Like you’re doing! Aw, what a cute montage moment.”