Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 6

still slightly damp from his post-game shower, and he must've been in the act of changing because, while he had on faded Levi's, he wore only a thin undershirt with his blue pullover sweater folded neatly on the bench beside him.
    "What do you want, Jameson?" Cam asked gruffly, not meeting Brad's eyes.
    Brad paused, frowning. Approaching the bench slowly, he asked, "Uh, Hunter, everything okay?" He cleared his throat and tried again. "I mean, you guys just kicked our collective asses– you ought to be riding that high at least for tonight. Far as I can tell, I've got reason to be pissed off here, not you…" He trailed off as he saw that his self-deprecating ribbing had failed to bring forth any response. Hunter just sat there, continuing to frown and look pretty fucking miserable.
    Brad dropped his duffel by the bench and sat down. "Hey, really, what's wrong?"
    "It's nothing." Cam suddenly stood and grabbed his sweater, jerking it over his head. Reaching into his locker, he started tossing things into his duffel bag, then paused as he seemed to realize Brad was still there. Cam glanced over his shoulder at Brad, and Brad supposed he must have looked receptive enough because the closed-off look on Hunter's face eased a little. Cam appeared to struggle with himself for a moment, then huffed a sigh and leaned back against the locker.
    "Thing is, there's this kid, right? Lachlan. He's little, but he insists on being called Big Lock." Cam's lips quirked up at that. Then his expression grew sober again, and he ran a hand over his face. "He's part of my Hunter's Heroes program for kids, but I kind of took him under my wing. You know, became his mentor and stuff. He's in a foster home, and he didn't really have anybody. He's a good kid, but he was getting into trouble, pulling pranks and stuff with local kids. I… I thought he was done with that, but they just told me—" His words broke off, and he grimaced.
    Brad nodded encouragingly. Cam met his eyes and continued. "They couldn't get his foster parents, so they called me. They just told me he was in an accident." Cam swallowed hard. "He and a few other kids were doing stupid stuff, tagging walls and keying cars, and some cops tried to run them off. And he ran in front of a car." Cam's eyes were wide with shock, and he shook his head again. "I've got to get over there. I've got to tell the O'Rileys. They– they said he's still unconscious."
    Brad sucked in a sharp breath and stood up. He paused for a second, then put his hand on the other man's shoulder. "Hey, man, he's gonna be okay. Hang in there. You don't know what's going on until you get there."
    Cam looked up and nodded. "Yeah, yeah, you're right. I gotta get over there. Oh man, I can't believe this. And he was doing such a good job," Cam muttered.
    Brad grabbed his duffel from the floor and started leading Cam towards the door. "Hey, he's still doing a good job. Don't give up on him, Hunter. He's a kid– he's gonna screw up now and then."
    "Yeah, he is. He's a good kid," Cam said with a small smile as they made their way through the door. "Well, maybe not a kid now that he's thirteen. You should see him. All arms and elbows, but he's got heart. He told me he wants to be a mad scientist when he grows up. Isn't that something?"
    Brad couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, he sounds great."
    They passed a security guard who stared at them, wide-eyed with seeming disbelief at the unlikely pairing, and made their way to the stadium exit.
    "He's great, he really is. He's really helped me, too, you know– staying grounded and connected to the community. I love that kid." Cam was silent for a moment as they headed towards the players' parking area. "Hey, Jameson, ah… just an idea. I know you sorta hate my guts and probably have a million other things you'd rather do," Cam said with a wry smile, obviously thinking about Brad's Page Six exploits, "but this program really helps the kids and it means a lot to them. You… you might give it a shot. If you're interested, you know. No pressure." Cam glanced up briefly, his eyes large and inquiring.
    Brad furrowed his brows. That sounded rather like the presumed guts-hating wasn't mutual. Was it?
    Misinterpreting Brad's look, Cam's face closed up. He held up his hands. "Nah, it's cool, really. I know you'd probably rather be out livin' the high life than hanging out with some teenagers," Cam said, a hint of cynicism edging his tone.
    "It's not that, it's just—"
    "Hey, it's