Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 6

looked like I had a knack for throwing the football, though, I dropped the rest and focused on that."
    "A knack, huh?" Cam repeated with a laugh. "Looks like that decision more than paid off. Full scholarship to Illinois. All American all four years. Ace trophy in your junior year. First overall pick…" Cam cleared his throat as he seemed to realize how much he had said.
    "Cam, I never knew you were a fan," Brad teased. "Maybe you'd like an autograph, too?"
    "Yeah, well, with your face on every cover, whether it's Sports Illustrated or some tabloid at the supermarket, it's hard not to know what you're up to," Cam shot back good-naturedly with a dramatic eye roll and a grin.
    Brad sat up a little straighter with the knowledge that Cam Hunter was so aware of his accomplishments, not just Brad's talent for getting a rise out of the other man. Brad realized that he wasn't nearly as well-versed in Cam's history.
    Curious, he turned to Cam to ask, "So, what got you started?"
    Cam raised his brows. "Me? Well, you know, I just joined a Pop Warner team when I was in elementary school because that's the kind of thing you do when you're a kid in Tennessee. Between that, helping my pops at the mechanics, and kicking back with a rod at the lake, I could pretty much fill my days when I was a kid." Cam shrugged as though the steps he'd taken to go from Pop Warner to starting quarterback for the Railers were no big deal. He tilted his head towards the little booth where some PTA parents were selling refreshments to fundraise for the school. "I'm gonna get some water– you want anything?" Brad shook his head and watched as Cam's long strides took him to the main gymnasium floor. Along the way, he had a smile and a handshake for anyone who approached him.
    The referees soon blew the whistle to signal that the game was about to resume. When Cam returned, he was juggling an armful of food and sheepishly offered Brad his choice of a Chinet plate full of homemade brownies, a couple of bags of pretzels, an entire warehouse club box of Fruit Roll Ups, a handful of Cheez-Its snack packs, five packs of peanut M&Ms, two Gatorades, and– there it was– the water Cam had originally intended to purchase.
    "Um, you want something?" Cam asked, holding up his haul.
    Brad just blinked.
    "Well, the team needs new uniforms and stuff…" Cam mumbled in explanation.
    "You're really going to eat all that?" Brad choked back a laugh.
    "Maybe," Cam replied, giving Brad a look that dared him to say anything further.
    "Good thing you work out," Brad deadpanned, pointedly eyeing the random plethora of junk food.
    "Oh, shut it, Brad," Cam said with a roll of his eyes, setting everything down on the bench in front of him and ripping open a bag of M&Ms as he took his seat.
    The team needs new uniforms? Jesus, the man was just too good, Brad admitted, strangely charmed by the gesture.
    ****
    "And then Nikki broke out into spots because they didn't tell her that there were strawberries in the fiber shake, so I'll probably get the cover solo ," Katja announced with a toss of her bangs and curtain of white-blonde hair. She delicately lifted a forkful of field greens dashed with vinegar to her mouth and gave Brad a meaningful look.
    "That's great," he responded absently as he sliced into his wagyu beef tenderloin. His words weren't much by way of a response, but they were apparently enough encouragement for her to continue.
    "I know, right? I've never done the cover of Madame before, and I get to do it solo . The tear sheet is going to look simply amazing in my portfolio. They said that…"
    Brad zoned out. He nodded and murmured in seemingly appropriate places while letting his mind wander freely otherwise. He took a bite of the tender beef and savored the buttery rich texture. This. This was why people came to Le Panisse . He sliced another piece and swirled it in the pear-horseradish puree. Placing it in his mouth, he watched as Katja took another bite of yet another salad. She treated eating like it was a chore that she could easily take or leave. It normally didn't bother him, but seeing her pick at her little green leaves made him feel a little– okay a lot– decadent tonight. Sort of like he should be counting his calories and repenting for each one. He swallowed his bite of wagyu and considered the marked contrast to last night's junk food fest, courtesy of one Cameron Hunter.
    His lips twitched in amusement at the memory of how Cam had cleaned out a good