“Okay, great. I’ll give him a call. Thanks, man!”
“Any time.”
We ended the call, and I gnawed my lip as I peered at Cam’s contact. He and I had never had any kind of falling out; we’d just sort of drifted apart as life took us in opposite directions. I’d tried to reconnect a few times, especially when I was back on the West Coast for a visit, but we always missed each other. He hadn’t been able to come to my wedding, though he’d sent a really nice gift and a thoughtful card. Otherwise, we hadn’t had much contact.
Though we hadn’t spoken to or seen each other in a few years, I’d heard about him through the grapevine. Last I knew, he was working as a personal trainer, and if memory served, they had to have all kinds of CPR certifications and things like that. He’d always been good with kids, too.
I tapped the corner of my phone on the counter. Would it be weird if I reached out to him? I didn’t think it would. Yeah, we’d dated for most of our sophomore and junior years in high school, back before I’d figured out I was gay and before he’d figured out he was a boy. We’d lost our virginities to each other. We’d done a lot of our adolescent experimenting together. Both the sex and the relationship had been awkward and weird because we’d been young and stupid, though I wouldn’t have called either of them bad. Just… young and stupid. Naïve, more than anything.
Fortunately, we’d also broken up without any major drama. As we’d started figuring out our identities, we’d both become seriously introspective, and we’d grown apart as boyfriend and girlfriend. Eventually, we’d realized we were better off as friends. Nothing nasty. Nothing we hadn’t been able to come back from. We were just growing up and growing apart, and we’d stayed friends until our lives had gone in separate directions.
Now, when I desperately needed someone’s help, it turned out he was in a similar situation. If I could get in touch with him, maybe we could help each other out.
Admittedly, I liked the idea of hiring him. In fact, I was relieved at the prospect of possibly bringing him to Pittsburgh to watch my kids, and not just because it would fix this crisis my ex had created. I’d always trusted Cam. I knew he was good people.
And what could I say? I missed him. The years I’d gone without even seeing him suddenly weighed on my shoulders, and I wondered how the hell I’d let that happen. Losing touch with people wasn’t unusual for those of us on the pro hockey trajectory—it was all-consuming, and trying to break into the majors was a long, arduous process. I’d left more than a few friends behind just because I’d been too focused on hockey to maintain the friendships, and I regretted that.
I especially regretted leaving behind Cam Wright.
Cam Wright, who was now in a bind at the same time I was desperate for someone to look after my kids so I didn’t lose custody.
Well, hell.
Maybe my ex’s bullshit ultimatum would be a blessing in disguise after all.
CHAPTER 2
CAM
“There’sno way I’m going to find another job now.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. “He’s made sure my name is mud at every gym in Portland, and it’s spread to Seattle, too.”
My mom huffed with irritation. “You should be able to sue him for that.”
I dropped my hand and turned exhausted eyes on her. “With what? I can’t retain a lawyer.” Well, not unless I found one willing to accept sexual favors, since that was about all I had left to offer anyone for anything. I didn’t say that to my mom, though.
She pursed her lips. “Maybe you just need to find something else to tide you over. Until this all…” She waved a hand like something flying away.
I so wanted to tell her that wasn’t going to happen. Gym rats could have incredibly long memories, and that stupid asshole—the one on whom I’d wasted eight years I was never getting back—had made sure I was fucked in that respect. No one in the fitness community was going to want to hire Cameron Wright any time soon. At this point, I wondered if anybody would. Fucking hell.
Sighing, I pushed myself up off the couch. “I’m going to go send out a few more job applications. Can’t hurt, right?”
“Good luck, honey.”
Yeah. I’d need it. I trudged upstairs to the guest room I’d moved into since that semi-sentient piece of maggot-riddled roadkill had upended my life. It looked depressingly like a hotel room—my mom loved pastels, and she was also a bit of a minimalist. There wasn’t much on the furniture in here except a bedside lamp, my phone and charger, and my laptop, plus a few odds and ends from my toiletry kit.
Most of what I owned was wedged into my mom’s storage unit. The rest was in one of the boxes stacked inside the closet or the two suitcases parked in front of it, plus some clothes I’d arranged in the drawers. It was my mom’s house, but it didn’t feel like home.
Maybe because my whole life was on its ass and everything felt jumbled and scattered and… ugh.
Okay. I was too miserable to deal with job applications right now. I’d doomscroll for a little while, maybe watch a few videos, andthensend applications out into the ether to be summarily ignored.
I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and flopped onto the bed.
And then I froze.
On the screen, there was a text from someone I hadn’t heard from in a long time.
I stared at his name. Trev Allen. Wow. We hadn’t talked in… four, five years? Something like that. I was suddenly overcome with nostalgia, memories from junior high and high school flooding my mind. Hanging out at lunch. Our comical attempt at dating. Screaming myself hoarse at his hockey games.
