Page 29 of About to Fall
“They're renovating half the hotel. Not enough rooms.”
“There are other hotels.”
“Full. Like you said, I'm a big draw.” I let the smirk spread across my face. “And I'm sharing with Fontaine.”
Cam stared at me through the screen for a long moment. Then he pressed both hands over his face—a gesture I was intimately familiar with, given that I'd been inspiring it in people my entire life.
“Adrian.” Exhausted. The tone of a man who had seen this movie before.
“It's fine.”
“Adrian.” Warning now. Big brother energy.
“We're adults. We can share a room.”
“Can you though?” He dropped his hands. “Because the last time we talked about Fontaine, you said you couldn’t stand him.”
“That was weeks ago.”
“And things have changed?”
I thought about the gym. His leg in my lap. The way his pulse had been visible in his throat. The way he'd looked at me when I asked what he needed from me.
“Define changed.”
“Adrian.” Cam's voice went flat. “Tell me you're not going to do something stupid.”
“I never do anything stupid.”
“You got that questionable snake tattoo. You let Bash pierce your nose with a safety pin. You once flew to Tokyo to hook up with a guy who then ghosted you when you landed.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “You do almost exclusively stupid things. That's your whole brand.”
“That tattoo is very popular, thank you very much. I was like fourteen and it healed just fine. And that guy… it was his fucking loss.” I paused. “Fine. I might be a little impulsive.”
He pointed at me through the screen. “You're headed to the Olympics. You've been working toward this for years. You're in medal contention. This is your shot, Adrian. The one you've been killing yourself for. The one that has nothing to do with your dad's money or his name or any of that bullshit. Do not—and I cannot stress this enough—do not fuck with the coach's nephew in a shared hotel room during the most important competition season of your career.”
“Ye of little faith. I wasn't planning to fuck with him.”
“Your face says otherwise.”
“My face is innocent.”
“Your face has never been innocent a day in its life.” He sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Just... be on your best behaviour. Whatever that looks like for you. Don't start anything you can't come back from.”
“You're very invested in my career.”
“I'm invested in you not torpedoing your Olympic dreams because you can't keep your head on straight.”
“When the rockstar is telling me to behave, I might be a tad fucked up.”
“Start therapy. Any professional will tell you that you're more than a tad fucked up.”
“Thanks, bro.”
“I'm not perfect either. I have mommy issues a mile long.”
“And you want me to listen to you because...?”
“Because I fucked my life up first and I don't want the same for you.” His voice softened. “Text me after the short program. And don't do anything I wouldn't do.”
