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Hanging my head in shame, I practically choke on the crushed mass inside my throat that’s my heart. He doesn’t care about my reset ritual. This is Cam. He’s not the kind of person who would begrudge someone a mental health outlet. He’s just sick of my bullshit, and I don’t blame him.
Cool fingers kissed by the morning chill, alight under my chin, tilting it up. “You’d never been with a man before?”
“No.”
“But…you’re sure that I’m what you want?”
I’m too afraid to elaborate any further since my last attempt was a disaster, so I put as much assurance into the choked syllable that leaves my mouth. “Yes.”
His hand drops from my chin. He lets out an exhausted sounding breath as though I’ve sucked the life out of him.
“I’m fucked up too, Pete.” His tender delivery reminds me of my mother’s tone when I was a child and she’d reassure me that nothing was wrong with me. I appreciate his care, but I want his pity as little as he wanted mine.
Pursing his lips, he continues. “But you managed to be the first person to make me feel like I’m not. I don’t want someone to be afraid to be themselves around me. I know what that’s like. I can’t change your past, either. I don’t want to, but I’d like to know about it. The truth, whatever it is.”
I don’t know what’s happening, what this means regarding us, but it’s a simple request that I can fulfill. He’s still speaking to me, so I’ll count my blessings.
“Okay. What? Anything.”
Dipping his chin, he kicks at a pebble on the roadside. I swear there’s a hint of mirth in his eyes when he looks back at me.
“What did you think of your first blow job with a guy?”
Is he… giving me a chance? His teeth sink anxiously into his lower lip, revealing the curious Cam that I know and adore. It’s that look of acceptance I’ve become smitten with and thought I’d never see again on his face. I scoff in disbelief.
Swallowing against my racing pulse, I inch forward, hopefully. “It was un-fucking real. You were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”
His breathless laugh is music to my ears, and his smile about damn near kills me. “And…you’re sure you don’t want to explore that with someone who knows what they’re doing better than I do?”
Is he for real? I risk any sense of boundaries I thought there might be from our row and cup his face in my hands.
“I don’t care if we do everything wrong. I just want to do it with the person standing in front of me.”
His smile returns, and his beautiful eyes search mine for a moment. His hand reaches up and strokes the stubble on my cheek.
“Then I’m yours.”
My paranoia tells me his proclamation has to be tit for tat, but this is Cam. Not a jaded businessman who thinks the boss’ sons are out to get him. How could he have such a methodically planned list of wants and yet only a matter of minutes after my confession decide to accept me?
I must be gawking like a buffoon, because he smirks and whispers, “Nod, Pete.”
Are gentlemen supposed to cry? I don’t know, but I said I’d give him anything he wanted, so I give him the nod he asked for. I’m rewarded with a soft kiss that I know I don’t deserve, but will endeavor to earn for as long as I live.
I watch in awe as he heads back to the car and gets inside. The surrounding forest looked like the scene of an impending crime when we pulled over, but now has a majestic-ness to it that I commit to memory. I’m tempted to step into the tree line and retrieve some rocks to erect a cairn at the side of the road. This spot is no longer just some insignificant point halfway between Bellevue and Wenatchee. It’s the place where my misery died, and the rest of my life began.
Back in the car, I start us down the road again. It feels like a weight I’ve been carrying since that first day at my house has been lifted, but the impression of its burden will be everlasting. Each glance I steal at him fills me with wonder and gratitude.
“So, your family doesn’t know about you…at all,” he hedges.
“No. I’m sorry.”
“I’ll do my best to not give you that look you talk about then,” he reassures, reaching over and patting my leg.
Capturing his fingers in mine, I raise them to my mouth and press a kiss to his knuckle. How he can be so lighthearted about all of this, I’ll never understand, other than it must be due to the beauty of his incredible personality.
Letting out calming breaths, I don’t even realize I haven’t relinquished his hand until he squeezes mine a few minutes later.
“Pete?”
