I throw the last part in just to embarrass Cameron, but he only shrinks further into himself than he did earlier, gripping his milkshake as if it might vanish before his very eyes.
Does he not like me outing us like this? I thought the whole point of this get-together was that we could start to solidify a relationship, not just fool around in the dark?
Maybe thiswon’tbe an epic love story after all. The thought makes me unreasonably upset.
“Submissive?” Cassie repeats in question. “That’s what you like?”
“You could say that,” I confirm. “I’m a very…particularperson. I like a very specific personality type.”
I don’t outwardly say that I’m a control freak who gets off on dictating someone else’s everyday life choices—that might freak out the poor girl, and I’m starting to enjoy her company.
“No shame in that,” Cassie jokes, a smile returning to her lips. “Everyone has a type. Me? I like dominant men.”
I stare back at her, smiling. I guess I’m not the only one with specific interests. That feels kind of nice.
“What about you, Cam?” she asks. “What is your dream girl like?”
Cameron’s eyes flicker up from the table and meet hers, his mouth opening and closing several times as we wait.
Finally, he says, “I think I’m done for the night. Ready to head out?”
Cassie falters for a moment, reading his expression with narrowed eyes. Whatever she sees there seems to cue her in on somethingI’munable to comprehend, because she returns to smiling, waving at the waitress.
“Separate checks?” the waitress asks, appearing from thin air.
“We’ll be on the same one,” Cassie replies, beaming at the woman as she gestures between the two of them.
The fuck? They’re acting as if they’re on a date.
Unacceptable.
“One check,” I interrupt calmly, already pulling my wallet out to hand her my card.
The waitress lingers a moment before giving us a nod and taking my card to the back to run it.
“Wow, thanks, Atticus!” Cassie gushes. “I never thought I’d be treated to a drink by a Chastain.”
There’s a light joking tone to her comment, but no one laughs. Cameron is staring at his empty glass as if he can’t wait to run from this building like it’s on fire.
Once my card is returned and I’ve put a tip on the receipt, we leave Checkers. It’s dark and drizzling outside, so Cassie makes quick work of grabbing Cameron’s arm and giving me their goodbyes. Cameron nods once in my direction, never quite meeting my eyes.
Unacceptable.
“Cameron,” I call out as they begin to walk down the sidewalk toward the car they drove here in. He freezes, and Cassie looks over her shoulder at me. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”
She looks between the two of us before she smiles, letting go of his arm. “I’ll meet you at the car, Cam.”
Then she’s walking away, and I wait for her to be out of earshot before I approach Cameron, staring at the back of his head in irritation.
“What’s up?” he murmurs, hands tucked into the pocket of his hoodie. His blond hair is darkening in the subtle rain, a few droplets trailing down the back of his neck.
I want to lick them off, to taste his skin.
“What’s wrong? You’re most definitely not acting like you want to hang out with me.” I sound a bit defensive, if not pathetic, but I don’t care.
It’s true, and I’m irritated.
“Let’s talk another time, yeah?” Cameron asks, taking a step forward.
