The Quarterback’s First Love – Episode 12
Cameron stopped outside the bathroom with his eyes firmly closed and the towels balanced against his chest. Steam escaped through the narrow opening when Maddie cracked the door. “You promise you can’t see?” she asked. The nervousness in her voice drew an involuntary smile from him. “Mads, I promise.”
She reached around the door, but the towel snagged beneath his wrist. Maddie opened the gap wider to free it, one arm shielding herself while wet hair streamed over her shoulders. Her bare foot landed on a drop of water, and the tile slipped beneath her.
Cameron reacted before thought. He caught her around the waist and pulled her against him, but his own balance failed on the slick threshold. They tumbled onto the carpet together, Maddie wrapped in little more than steam and his arms.
Her mouth brushed his during the fall. The contact lasted only a heartbeat, yet both of them froze as if the world had narrowed to that accidental kiss. Maddie’s eyes widened. Cameron kept his gaze fixed desperately on her face while every other awareness announced how close they were.
“Get up,” she whispered. Cameron made the mistake of trying to move without releasing her and nearly shifted the towel away. “I can’t,” he muttered, mortified. “If I move, you’re going to be a lot more embarrassed than you already are.”
Maddie realized what he meant and buried her face against his shoulder. Laughter escaped before she could stop it—shocked, breathless, and entirely inappropriate. Cameron began laughing too, and the absurdity softened the electric tension between them.
“This is not funny,” she insisted, though her body shook with it. “You’re right. This is a serious rescue operation.” Cameron closed his eyes more tightly and helped her secure the towel. His restraint did not erase the desire she felt in the rigid care of his movements.
Once covered, Maddie pushed herself upright. Cameron remained on the floor for a moment, staring at the ceiling and silently ordering his body to behave. She caught the flush spreading along his neck and found it strangely endearing that the confident quarterback could become so helpless around her.
“Cameron Carter,” she said, following his gaze downward before quickly looking away. “Is that—” He stood with humiliating speed. “I need a shower.” Maddie’s mouth curved despite herself. “Make it a cold one.”
He disappeared into the bathroom carrying the clothes she had abandoned. Maddie leaned against the wall and touched her lips. Their first adult kiss had been an accident, but her response had not. For a woman who had spent years convincing herself Brett was enough, wanting Cameron felt both honest and dangerous.
She dressed in Cameron’s soft team shirt and sweatpants. The top fell nearly to mid-thigh and smelled faintly of cedar and clean laundry. Seeing herself in the mirror wearing his clothes stirred an intimacy more unsettling than the fall.
When Cameron emerged with damp hair, he stopped at the sight of her. “You didn’t have to give me this specific shirt,” Maddie said, tugging at the fabric. It bore his name and number across the back. “It looks better on you,” he answered before caution could intervene.
They ate room-service burgers at the small table, both pretending not to revisit the kiss. Maddie caught him looking at her mouth twice. Each time, Cameron redirected his attention to his fries with such concentration that she nearly laughed again.
The ease between them reminded Maddie of childhood evenings sharing contraband snacks beneath a blanket. Yet awareness now threaded through the familiarity. Jack had been her safest person; Cameron was also a man whose arms had made every nerve in her body wake.
“You really didn’t peek?” she asked. Cameron placed a hand over his heart. “I am wounded by the accusation.” Maddie narrowed her eyes. “You fell on top of me.” He countered that gravity, not character, should stand trial.
Their teasing faded into a comfortable silence. Maddie realized she had not felt this unguarded in years. With Brett, quiet had required vigilance. With Cameron, it made room for parts of herself she thought hardship had erased.
Still, the recovered memories did not answer every question. She knew who Cameron had been, but not why he appeared at exactly the right moments or how long he had been searching. Most of all, she needed to understand the sorrow that surfaced whenever he mentioned the accident.
“What were you going to tell me before the towel disaster?” she asked. Cameron’s expression grew cautious. Maddie leaned forward. “Why did you call me Mads before you knew I remembered? Why were you at my game, and why have you acted as if my life matters more than your own?”
Cameron looked toward the dark window. The truth was no longer simply that he had been Jack. It included the years of guilt, the choices he was considering, and feelings too large to place on someone freshly freed from an abusive relationship.
He finally met her gaze. “Because I lost you once,” he said, his voice stripped of humor. “And because the accident that took your memories was my fault.” Maddie’s warmth vanished beneath a surge of alarm. Before she could deny it, Cameron began confessing the burden he had carried since childhood.