Page 90 of Gamebreaker

And I'm sorry I need something you can't give. We're both sorry and both hurting and both stuck.

Cam

Yeah. We are.

Harper

Goodnight, Cam.

Cam

Goodnight, Harper.

Cam

And for what it's worth? If I could go back and change anything, I wouldn't. I'd rather have touched you once and lost you than never have touched you at all.

I stared at that message through blurry eyes, the pain so bad I could barely breathe.

Harper

Same. I'd rather have this pain than nothing at all.

I drove home with tears on my face and an ache in my chest that had nothing to do with unsatisfied desire and everything to do with knowing I'd found someone I wanted furiously and couldn't have.

Because that kiss—that devastating, world-ending, almost-sex-in-the-kitchen kiss—had changed everything.

I couldn't forget any of it.

The soft press of my lips against hers before she asked permission. The way she'd said "please tell me I can kiss you back" like she'd been dying to. The desperation in "please" when I'd answered. The way she'd completely shattered when I gave permission.

Her hands in my hair. Her mouth on my neck. Her body against mine. Her hand between my legs through my jeans. The sound of my zipper starting to lower. How close we'd been to crossing a line we couldn't uncross.

The look on her face when I stopped her. The pain in her eyes. The way her hands had clenched into fists, like she was physically restraining herself from reaching for me. The way she'd tried so hard to be respectful even though it was clearly destroying her.

That this was going to keep hurting until something changed. And at the same time, I knew nothing was going to change.

She wasn't ready to come out. I couldn't go back in hiding. We were stuck in this impossible place where we wanted each other desperately but couldn't have each other.

This was going to hurt for a long time.

But god, that kiss had been worth it.

Even knowing how much pain would follow.

Even knowing we couldn't do it again.

It had been worth it.

12

Eyes on the Court

Cam

Basketball had always been the one thing I could control.

The arc of the ball leaving my fingertips, the proper angle required for a perfect swish, the rhythm of dribbling that matched my heartbeat… all of it existed in the realm of physics and practice, mathematics and muscle memory. Controllable. Predictable. Safe.