Unspoken Words (Unspoken #1) (3 page)

“According to my schedule I have events up and down the East Coast, so to answer your question, yes, I will be in New York for a while.”

That smile I saw earlier makes another appearance as Chad pulls out a business card from his wallet and hands it to me. “Here’s my card, my cell number is on it. Give me a call if you have a free night to meet up for drinks.”

Reaching out to take his card, my fingers touch his and a sudden tingle shoots up my arm. I quickly pull my hand back and look at him. That alluring grin spreads across his face again. “Thank you. I’ll give you a call when I get settled in. Maybe we can do drinks. I can bring a few of my friends, and you can bring a few of yours.” I suggest.

“I was hoping maybe the two of us could have drinks . . . without friends there to chaperone us. I don’t bite.” A sly grin crosses his face. “Unless I’m asked to,” he says with a mischievous smile.

My eyes go wide at his remark. Talk about being forward. “I’ll let you know about the drink. You never know, maybe I will take you up on it.”

A loud laugh pulls my attention away from Chad. “Nice line, dude, real nice. Camryn, please don’t think our entire band acts like this one.” He nods his head in Chad’s direction.

Chad shoots his bandmate a look then gets up and grabs his bag from the overhead

compartment, placing it at his feet. “Which bag is yours?”

“It’s the hot pink, leopard print one.”

He hands me my carry-on, and when I bend over to grab my laptop bag I hear a whistle. I turn around and give Chad a dirty look. If looks could kill, he would have dropped dead right there in the aisle. He holds his hands up, as if surrendering. “I’m only joking, no need to shoot daggers at me.” He chuckles and Buffer and I walk ahead of him down the jet bridge.

When we exit the bridge, Chad extends his hand to me. “Well, it was nice seeing you again. Call me.”

“Or don’t,” Buffer interjects.

We go our separate ways at the terminal, since they both only had a carry-on. Following the signs toward baggage claim, I pray Christian and Jamie are here to pick me up. It has been three months since I’ve seen my friends and family and what a welcome home it will be to see them both in a few minutes.

CAMRYN

MY BROTHER, CHRISTIAN
, leans against the wall in baggage claim looking up at the screens. Starting to walk in his direction, I’m swept up into a set of strong arms. I don’t need to see the face to know who they belong to. I’d recognize the vibrant tattoos that cover his arms from his wrists all the way up to his shoulders and wrap around to his chest. These arms belong to Jamieson Banks . . . my Jamie.

Jamie squeezes me and snuggles his face into my neck. A loud squeal leaves my mouth, turning heads in our direction. Jamie places my feet back on the ground, just in time for me to turn around and throw my arms around his neck squeezing him tightly. After inhaling his scent, a smile spreads across my face.
Home.

Jamie is beautiful. His features are perfect, so symmetrical, that any more delicacy would make him too beautiful to be a man. His skin pulled taut over the elegant ridge of his cheekbones. His brows and chocolate eyes are startling against his tan skin and dark hair.

In my eyes, he is literally a walking sex god. Granted, we’ve never had sex or anything, but with me being home for a while, I’m hoping to build up enough courage to tell Jamie how I feel about him.

Jamie whispers in my ear, “It’s been way too long, Tink. I’ve missed the hell out of you.” Just as I pull back to look at his face, Jamie leans in and plants a huge kiss on my cheek. Swatting Jamie in the chest, I mutter “Don’t call me that in public. You know how much I hate that name.”

Jamie raises his eyebrows and laughs, “Cami, I’ve been calling you Tink since you were little and dressed up as Tinkerbell five Halloweens in a row. You were obsessed with Tinkerbell, you even wore your costume in the yard to play. I can’t help it.”

“Oh, really, I also dressed up as a baseball player for Halloween a few times, and wore a uniform for years on the field, you could have at least called me ‘Slugger’ or ‘Power Pitcher’. Something a little catchier.”

Jamie lets out a hearty laugh, “Cami, you have no idea how much I missed our bantering back and forth.”

When Jamie and I break away from our hug, my brother comes over in our direction. “Hey, what am I? Chopped liver? Get over here and give your big brother a hug. I’ve missed you more than Jamie.”

“Big brother, really? You are not my big brother.”

“I beg to differ and my birth certificate will vouch for that. I am, indeed, your big brother.”

“Christian, you were born one minute before me. That does not constitute seniority. If you are playing the birth certificate card, I believe I am the big sister since I weighed more than you.”

“You weighed in more than me because you wouldn’t share the food that Mom was consuming while she was pregnant. You were greedy then, and you’re still greedy now when it comes to food.”

“Whatever, Christian, shut up and just hug me. It’s been three months since I’ve seen any of you.”

Christian pulls me into a bear hug and squeezes the air out of me.

“Alright, let me go. I said give me a hug, not break my ribs.”

Jamie clears his throat, “Hello, I’m over here. Did the two of you forget about me? You’re beginning to make me feel like a third wheel.”

Laughing at Jamie, I move away from Christian and wrap my arms around his waist and lean my head against his chest. Jamie has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. Yes, he is my brother’s best friend, too, but Jamie and I have a special bond. For years, Morgan and I tagged along with Christian and Jamie. The boys taught me how to play baseball, climb a tree, throw a football, drive a stick shift. The list of things is endless.

It was our eighth birthday, Christian and I had a baseball-themed party. Our parents offered to have a separate party for each of us, but Christian and I agreed on one theme. Our parents decorated the backyard like a baseball field. Our dad made stands out of wood and placed signs on the front labeled snacks, souvenirs, hot dogs, etc. As you looked around the yard, concession stands appeared in the corners. Our mom had every goodie you could think of on the counter of the snack stand along with an array of chips. My mom had set up a hot dog stand and a pretend souvenir stand with party bags filled with a baseball and a New York Yankees t-shirt.

When we were able to open our presents, Jamie ran inside. When he returned, he walked over to me with his hands behind his back. He reached out his hands and I scrunched my nose at his gift wrapped in Christmas paper.

Jamie quickly says, “I wrapped it myself. I know your birthday is July 3 but the paper had cute puppies on it and I know how much you love puppies.”

I threw my arms around his neck. “I love it.”

Jamie smiled. “Wait until you open it, you’re gonna love my present more than you love the paper.”

After tearing the paper off, I quickly tossed the lid to the side. My eyes immediately met Jamie’s because inside the box was the best gift ever. Jamie got me my very own baseball glove.

A huge smile spread across my face. Glancing around the yard, my eyes finally found my dad. When our eyes met, I held the glove up in the air.

“You finally got that glove you’ve been asking for,” my dad hollered over the other kids as they watched Christian open up his gifts.

Turning, my eyes met Jamie’s as he stood there staring at me. “I knew you wanted your own glove. Anytime you want to practice throwing, come get me,” he says with a huge smile on his face.

My eighth birthday was one of my favorite birthdays. That glove meant the world to me. When the boys would let me play with them, they would loan me one of theirs. My love for baseball was born that day.

Christian played baseball all through high school, his dreams of going pro were shattered when he tore his ACL . . . resulting in surgery and then a shitload of physical therapy. Rather than going to college on an athletic scholarship, Christian went to NYU and focused on his academics. He double majored in business and music engineering production.

I, on the other hand, attended Stanford on a full athletic scholarship for softball. Obviously, I had the grades as well. My decision to attend Stanford wasn’t based solely upon my scholarship, Stanford has an incredible Journalism program.

Growing up with Christian and Jamie, sports was something I was always around. That is how my love for the game developed. The countless hours of training, whether I was at the gym, on the field, or at the batting cages, all paid off, playing softball at the collegiate level was a dream come true.

I never imagined I would have played the sport I fell in love with until I was twenty-two years old. But it was bittersweet, knowing that my brother’s dreams were taken from him on the same field that brought me such inner joy. The guilt bothered me at times, but Christian being the loving supportive brother he is, supported me the entire time I was in college. He and Jamie would try to attend my games if they were able to or they watched them online when they wanted to keep up with my stats. I couldn’t have had a better support system than I did with my family and best friends.

Jamie squeezes my shoulders, reminding me where I am. “What are you thinking about, Tink? You seem like you’re a million miles away.”

Shrugging my shoulders, I lean into him. “Just remembering my eighth birthday.”

Jamie tilts his head to the side and looks at me. “When I gave you your glove?” He smirks, quite proud of himself.

“You remember? I still have that glove even though I outgrew it a long time ago. It’s tucked away in a safe place in my closet at my parents’ house. I hope one day to pass it on to my little girl.”

Jamie’s face softens when I mention my glove. Of course, I still have it.

“What's THAT look for, Jamie Banks? Have I shocked you?”

“How could I forget that day, your yard was set up like a baseball field. Your parents went all out for that party. I think they just loved the fact that Christian and you didn’t make them throw separate parties.” Jamie puts his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him.

“Yeah, you may be right. With me not being high maintenance, my parents had it easy when it came to parties.” Christian pulls my bags off of the carousel and looks in my direction, “Camryn, do you only have two bags with you?”

“Yeah, I packed light.
Key Notes
allowed me to ship some boxes home with more of my stuff since my stay will be longer than usual.”

Both Christian and Jamie’s eyebrows raise at that statement. Christian asks, “What do you mean longer than usual? You’re not here for two weeks?”

Looking a little devious, I shrug my shoulders. “Oh, did I forget to tell you two that little bit of information?” Laughing, I say, “Boys, I am home till after the New Year.”

Christian and Jamie both look at me with pure excitement written across their faces. Jamie grabs one of my bags from my brother and places his arms around my shoulders as we leave the airport. “This is going to be fun. Welcome home, Cami.”