Page 83 of Made to Be

“Good,” I whispered invitingly into his ear. “I don’t plan on us leaving it any time soon.”

By some miracle or divine blessings, Cam’s cock slowly began hardening where it was still seated within me.

He pulled back to stare down at me, the hunger in his eyes crystal clear. Once he was fully hard, I rocked up into him. His lips parted, eyes fluttering closed.

“That’s a good boy,” I praised.

***

“So, you didn’t grow up here?” Cam asked me as we strolled along the smooth, narrow path. Its gentle winding followed the edge of a large pond, the orange lights from the evenly spaced park lamps glowing on its rippling, midnight surface.

“No, I moved here for school,” I answered, licking up the ice cream that had dripped onto my thumb.

Even though it was practically winter, Cresthill was home to one of my favorite ice cream shops that was gloriously open year-round. So, of course we had to get some before heading home tomorrow morning.

It was also a lovely chance to take in the late autumn colors this community park was known for. Although many of the trees were bare, traces of fall still lingered on the branches. Echoes of deep burgundy and rich persimmon leaves were set ablaze in the dim lamplight as they whispered above our heads, truly a charmingly romantic atmosphere. We weren’t the only ones who took the chance for a sweet, late-night stroll as we passed a few other couples milling about. Afterall, it wasn’t that late. The night was unusually warm for the season, but the air held a chill as it whispered across the pond, sending a shiver over my body. Cam tugged me closer into his side as we walked.

We’d spent most of the following day after the festival in bed, shifting between bouts of vigorous fucking, talking, and slow, tender lovemaking. When we could bare to separate, we ordered room service to eat, rationally knowing we couldn’t survive a whole day off of just sex and water. No matter how much we both wanted to.

Cam’s fingers tightened in mine where he held my hand, and I casually swung them back and forth.

“Grew up in Hatton. My dad still lives there, though. He’s a psychologist. I think he’s dating a guynamed Mike now, but I haven’t talked to him in a few months. We were... never all that close.”

“And your mom?” he asked softly.

“She left when I was around nine or so,” I told him simply with a shrug. “When my dad came out to her about being bisexual, they just drifted apart, I guess. And then one day, she packed up her stuff and disappeared. She left a note, so we knew she wasn’t, ya know, kidnapped for ransom or anything. At least they weren’t married so he didn’t have to deal with a messy divorce, but we haven’t heard from her since.”

Cam hummed thoughtfully, “Well, it’s her loss.”

I snickered, “Thanks.”

Taking another bite of ice cream, a sudden realization hit me. That simple answer wasn’t enough. Not for something that should be important, should feel important. Not when I was trying to teach myself to open up. To be vulnerable. With him. It was scary, and it was hard, but Cam’s stolid, warm presence next to me was a soothing balm on my soul.

“It may sound callous, but I don’t really think about my mom all that much. Well, the woman who gave birth to me.” I told him, pressing further into him, a silent request for his support and comfort. He pressed back into me, strong and sure. Steady. “I stopped associating her with my mother a long time ago. It’s difficult for someone to consume your thoughts when you hardly remember what they look or sound like. Atleast it’s that way for me. I can’t for the life of me remember her face, her smile, her laugh, her voice.

“Dad got rid of all of her photos, or if he kept them, I’ve never seen them. So, there’s nothing to look back on even if I found a night filled with reminiscent curiosity. I guess I liked the idea of having a mother, what that would have been like.” I snorted a humorless laugh, “Bet dad would say that’s the root of my abandonment issues and why I keep people at arm's length. He just loves psychoanalyzing everything I say or do.”

Several breaths of quiet passed between us, save the distant voices of other park-goers and the soft rustling of the leaves dancing above. But the silence with Cam was never weighted or oppressive. It never left me squirming, itching with the need to fill it. I could simply absorb the peace of it, allow it to soak into my pores, and bring with it his calm steadfastness.

Cam was the one to interrupt the stillness.

“Alice and I are your lucky chosen ones, then?” he mused, the corner of his lips pulling up before he took a bite of his waffle cone. “I am honored.”

His tone was easy, but the hint of pink staining the crests of those high cheekbones was certainly not merely from the cold.

Smiling to myself, I let his words linger between us. Once we’d each finished our ice cream, we tossed our napkins in the nearest trash. Cam pulled me toward a cute wooden bench situated a short distancefrom the water’s edge just off the path. It was nestled directly under a charming lamp, and the chilly autumn air bit at my fingertips and nose as I scooted closer to Cam. I absorbed his warmth like a sponge and rested my head on his shoulder with a long, contended sigh.

That companionable silence blanketed us for long minutes as I gazed out across the water. On the other side, people walked along the distant path hand in hand, heads bent together as they talked. An elderly couple bundled in thick, fluffy coats and hats strolled leisurely, the woman’s arm wrapped tightly within the man’s. Seeing their hunched, slow-moving forms made my chest swell with emotion, picturing Cam and I like that one day. Just two old men walking through a romantic, moonlit night. Our deeply wrinkled faces would still be full of life as we smiled at each other, our eyes bright with love.

Some people feared aging; I didn’t. I saw it as a great privilege to grow old, especially when you had someone to grow old with. Somone to stay by your side always through the highs and lows of life. Someone to always be there to pick you up and hold you tight when you stumbled or fell.

I turned from the couple to take in Cam’s face. Even from the side, he was ridiculously handsome with that strong jaw and full lips tilted upward toward a small, soft smile. Those freckles dotting his nose stood out under the lamp lights and his blue eyes seemed to glow, making them shine like sapphires.

Wow, look at me, a sappy poet now.

But damn, it was true. I could look at him for hours and never get bored. Every plane, every angle, every shadow... He made me wish I was an artist so that I could capture his beauty the way I perceived it and immortalize it for myself. And his voice... God, I could talk to him forever and never tire of hearing him, his laugh, his sighs, his moans of pleasure...

That warm feeling began swelling in my chest again as I stared at him. We hadn’t known each other long, but I knew for certain what these feelings were. There was no mistaking them, no brushing them aside. I loved Cam so much, so much that it ached. Unconsciously, I reached up and rubbed at my sternum.