He doesn’t, and I’ve been pushing him, allowing him to cross the boundaries his messed-up mind is trying to set between us. It shouldn’t be this hard. “He just had a breakup.”
“Oh,” she says. “How long?”
“Ah, it’s been a couple of months. She cheated on him.”
“What! How? Sorry, that’s—he’s very attractive. And sweet.” She laughs nervously. “A woman?”
“Um, yeah. He’s straight. I’m not.” What am I doing? “Not that you need to know that.”
“Don’t worry. Bisexual here.” She salutes me with a smile. “He’s just, I don’t know. So cute. Like a giant puppy dog.”
That he is alright. A big giant fucking pain in the ass puppy, who isn’t yet house trained and has accidents all over the place. You want to be mad, but then he hits you with those big eyes and you fucking melt. “He’s a good guy.”
“I feel bad about leaving you to deal with this when I caused it. I can help if you—”
“No,” I rush out. I need her gone. She’s too much, and if I’m right, Amira will soon be around a lot. Cam doesn’t want me, and Amira is everything Cam looks for. What’s worse is that I feel none of the bad feelings I do every time he finds someone. She seems nice . . . amazing, actually. “Thank you, though. Not the first time, or the last I’m sure.”
She’s quiet, and I look up to see her watching me. She blinks, looking away, and smiles softly. “Well, good night, Bo. Good luck.” That makes me laugh. “I’ll see myself out.”
I say goodnight and turn back to my snoring best friend. As if he senses me, he snorts then opens his eyes. “Bo?”
“Yeah.”
“I think . . . I’m gonna be—” He springs out of bed, stumbling to my bathroom.Dammit. I go out into the living room for a wet cloth. He does not get my good washcloths for this! I head back through the bedroom and into my bathroom. Cam is retching, and the sound makes my stomach turn. I am not good with vomit, so I stand just outside and wait for him to finish.”
When the noises slow I peek my head in. Cam’s resting his head on the toilet seat. “Coast clear?”
“I’m dying.”
What am I going to do with him? I walk inside and gently ease him onto the floor where he slumps on the bathmat. I close the toilet and flush it. He stinks. Vomit and rum singe my nose. “Cam, you stink. You need a shower.”
Lying on the floor, he’s half awake. I unbutton his jeans and slide them down, not lingering too long on his muscular hairylegs or the prominent bulge in his briefs. “Come on, Cam, help me out.” I attempt to lift his shirt off while standing over him. Dead weight.
“Hey.” I lightly slap his cheek. “Cam!”
His eyes blink open. “Bo?”
“I need help, Cam. Help me.” Cam groans, trying to roll. “Oh, you better not puke on my floor, Camden Rosa Almeida!” He turns his head with a loopy smile.
“Not my . . . Bo. Middle Bobo.”
I slap one of his ass cheeks. “Get up. Help me.” Groaning, he drags himself upright then lifts his arms. “Holy shit, Cam, how much did you drink? You better not puke on me!”
“No. . .promesas,” he says sleepily.
“Yes, promises, Cam! No puking.” I peel his shirt off him then reach for the shower, turning it on. Turning back to help him in, I freeze. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“You sled shower.” He stands there swaying, covering only his balls with his hand. His dick hanging over his fingers.
“Isaidget in the shower, not take your briefs off! Cover your dick. What are you doing?” Somebody help me. Anyone. Keeping my eyes above nipple height, I push him toward the shower. “Can you do this yourself?”
“You want to get in here?” He grins, collapsing back onto the shower wall.
“Cam, this has got to be the least sexiest thing that’s ever happened between us. Get in and wash your ass.” I slam the shower door, watching to make sure he doesn’t slip and fall. I don’t want to have to drag his naked ass out of there. As if I could. I know Noah couldn’t if I had to call someone, and Jamie’s size is just for show. With my luck he’d throw his back out.
I busy myself cleaning up the mess he’s made, and then go out quickly to grab a pair of his sweats from the makeshift drawer he’s cleared for himself. I go back in just as he’s shutting off thewater. Then I hand him the towel and help him out, keeping my eyes above sea level. “Can you dry yourself?”
The clarity in his eyes seems to have come back a bit, so I hand him his sweats then leave him to change. I don’t hear any crashes, so I think he’s regained a bit of his consciousness.
