The last bit startles me because I wasn’t previously aware of the lengths I would go to for his happiness. To guide and protect and claim him, as I desperately crave to.
Maybe Iwillmarry him. Maybe this is a fast track to the start of an epic love story.
Cameron’s breathing grows heavier. “I want that. I want to hang out with you, please.”
He sounds so soft, so submissive that I want to groan.
“Tell me where and when,” I command, gripping my phone even tighter.
“Well… I’m going to Checkers tonight with Cassie. Want to come?”
With Cassie?Why are they always together? I know she’s a naturally flirtatious girl, but are she and Cameron actually… No way. If they were, he wouldn’t have gotten on his knees for me. Right?
“The diner?” I ask, deciding to pocket my other questions.
“Yeah. If you don’t want to, no biggie. I just thought—”
“What time?” I interrupt.
Cameron releases a relieved breath. “Is 7 p.m. okay? We’re getting shakes.”
“That works,” I say. I’ll have to skip my own workout, but that’s alright.
I’m not usually one to be comfortable with interrupting my routine, but it seems that Cameron pulls it out of me.
I expect him to say okay—and goodbye—and to head off to his workout. But instead, he pauses, breathing softly.
“Atticus?” he finally mumbles, and something in my chest tightens again.
“Yes, Cameron?”
“Uh… I just… I liked what we did. I know I shouldn’t have, but I did. And I want to… I want to understand you so that I can feel good about it. So that I can make it okay,” he confides.
I’m sorry, but what? Heshouldn’t?He wants to make it okay?
This man has some crazy internalized homophobia that he’s working through, and normally I would back away from that carefully, but right now… I just want to fix it.
“I understand,” I say, though I really don’t. “I’ll see you at seven.”
“Okay,” he replies, relief clear in his tone. “See you then.”
And Cameron hangs up.
Atticus
6
CHECKERS IS A SMALL, locally owned diner in Port Orford. The food is decent, and the people are nice, but I still hardly frequent it. Why would I, when I have a private chef at home?
But now I’m standing outside after having checked that Cameron wasn’tinside, waiting impatiently. It’s 7:05 p.m.
Why is he late? Nothing is more irritating than a disruption in my carefully planned schedule, and I intentionally moved my previous plans around just for him.
Rude. Inconsiderate.
“Atticus! Sorry, there was no street parking, so we had to park in the back lot down the street.” My eyes dart up from where I was staring at my phone, spotting Cameron jogging toward me.
Suddenly, all of my irritation is gone.
