AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Hey, remember what I told you?” he asks, nudging my chin up with his knuckle. “No matter what happens—I’m not going anywhere. I meant it, Cam.”
If I cry, I’ll look like I don’t believe him, so I bite the inside of my lip. I do believe him, and it makes me sad I can’t offer him a better version of myself.
“Unless,” he hedges, the determination in his eyes crumbling, “you want me to.”
“No. I’m in this, Pete.” Grabbing his wrist, I squeeze, rubbing my thumb over the beat of his pulse. “I promise. I just, to be honest, I don’t know how I’m going to do it. My family is… I’m pretty sure it’s going to be a nightmare.”
Titling his head, his expression is pitying. Great. I’m so pathetic I’m a charity case now. His hands latch onto my shoulders, tugging me forward. I’m squeezed against his damp sweatshirt that smells like pure, unadulterated Pete. I want to live here and not give a damn who sees. His fingers rake through my sweaty hair, making me realize he’s violating, like, three of his fluid-slash-germaphobia rules right now.
“We did the hard part already.” His voice is gruff against my cheek. “We found each other. I’m not worried about anything else.”
They’re beautiful words from a beautiful man that shouldn’t be mine. We weren’t supposed to find each other. That’s why, no matter how much I want to have faith in his promise, I’m terrified we won’t be able to keep each other.
CHAPTER 26
Pete
Couch number three has become my favorite couch for movie night. Cam’s long legs are stretched out so that his heels are resting on couch number one while he leans against me. He mustn’t be as into the movie as much as he said he was, though, because he’s checking his phone again.
“You expecting a message from Brice or something?”
“No. He’s been busy landscaping his backyard, putting in a new gazebo or something.”
It makes me sad he doesn’t seem to have any other friends than Brice whom he hasn’t even ever met in person. While I’m grateful to get all his free time, it seems like someone so wonderful should have a host of companions.
I suppose that says something about me that Mark was the only person I hung out with, aside from my family, before I met Cam. I haven’t lost any sleep over the last two ball game invites from him that I declined, though. After harvest season winds down, I should probably make an effort to at least meet him for a drink. Knowing it means I’ll miss even one evening with Cam quickly makes the idea lose its appeal.
I’ve become such a homebody. I can’t remember the last time I checked work emails after hours. My accounts could become the lowest earners at Fairway, and I don’t even think I’d care. Look at me—not falling apart without my routines.
Cam shifts against me, retrieving his feet off the other couch. “I should probably head home. I’m out of clean clothes.”
“Are you coming back?”
“Um, no, probably not. I mean, it’s eight-thirty already. I’ve been dumping and grabbing new stuff as soon as I get home from work, so I’ve got a mountain waiting for me.” He chuckles, bending down to put his shoes on at the door. “Plus, I should probably go through my fridge to see if anything went sour.”
It’s now that I notice his overnight bag is sitting in the entryway. Shit. He’s serious.
Making my way over to him, I tease, “Muffins don’t go sour.”
“I have milk, too, thank you very much!” He laughs, swatting the air at me.
“We could throw the stuff you have with you in here,” I suggest, purposely placing my foot on the strap of his bag when he goes to reach for it. “You know how much I like to wash things,” I croon, waggling my eyebrows.
Smirking, he rises, forgetting his bag, and slides his hands onto my shoulders. “Mm, as much as my dick will miss having another birthday in the shower again, I’ll have to pass. I only have the two shirts and don’t want to look like I'm wearing the same thing twice one week.”
“What are you talking about? What’s a dick birthday?”
Snorting, he tugs at my goatee. “You kind of hum the Birthday song in the shower when you’re sudsing me up sometimes.”
“I do not.” The words come out as a horrified whisper. He’s just telling me this now?
Chuckling, he gives me a peck on the lips. “Afraid so. It’s honestly the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Fuck. Knowing me and how relaxed I am around him, it’s highly possible, but he’s got to be exaggerating.
“I do not serenade your dick.”
“You do! It’s probably like forty-two years old by now, if I were counting.”
