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Then she moans. It’s low, almost masculine, and I like it. My hand moves faster, and I’m chasing something now, something that feels just out of reach. Her moans get louder, but they stay low, and I’m⁠—

I come.

It’s gentle. Not the explosive release I expected. I feel it building, feel it cresting, and then it’s there, warm and easy and almost anticlimactic.

She sounds like she’s coming harder than me. Her moans are urgent, breathless, still low. It’s a deep, resonant register that ignites a primal desire in me, something I’d rather not examine right now.

“God,” she breathes. “That was— Cam.”

I’m lying on my back now, phone on my chest, staring at the ceiling again. My heart is racing, but I feel weirdly empty.

“I need to see you,” I say, now fully aware of how desperate I sound. “In person. I need to actually see you.”

There’s a pause. Too long.

“I—” She sounds taken aback. “I don’t know if⁠—”

Panic floods through me. I’m pushing her away. I’m being too much, too needy.

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just⁠—”

“No, Cameron, it’s not that.” Her voice is reassuring again. “I’ve just been really busy. Let me look at my schedule, and I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Okay,” I say, the relief settling. “Yeah, okay.”

“I should go,” she says. “I had fun. You’re so easy to talk to, Cam.”

“You too.”

We hang up, and I lie there in the dark, my phone still on my chest, and think about what just happened.

I came while thinking about Lucien. I came, and it felt good but also wrong, like I was lying.

But the finish line is finally in sight. I’m actually going to lose my virginity. I just need to see Gwen in the flesh to make it real. Then the chaos in my head will quiet, and everything will finally make sense.

14

LUCIEN

I’m at my special table at the Bunbury Café, the one that faces Cameron’s apartment building directly. I’ve been watching for twenty minutes, eating my cinnamon bun and letting my coffee go cold. Claire is supposed to meet me here. I suggested the café, so I wouldn’t lose track of Cameron.

The AI voice software could not have worked better. When I spoke to Cameron last night, when I heard my own words coming back through the modulator in that bright, honeyed voice, it felt like I was finally talking to him without the weight of our history crushing every syllable. Hearing Cameron’s voice full of sincerity and sweetness and the silence while he made himself hard for me set me on fucking fire.

It was, ironically, the most honest conversation we’ve ever had.

And now I’m addicted to it. To him. To the way he opens up when he thinks I’m someone safe.

But he wants to meet her. He wants to see Gwen in person. Gwen, who’s safely in Charleston, has no idea her face and name are being used to catfish Cameron into falling in love with me. I need to make sure she stays there. I need to come up with a reason she can’t visit campus this semester, can’t surprise me with a weekend trip, can’t be anywhere Cameron might see her, recognize her and realize⁠—

“Luc?”

Claire’s voice cuts through my spiral. I look up, and she’s standing beside the table, her coat still on, her expression already worried. She sits across from me, her piercing green eyes on me.

“You look terrible,” she says, and her soft Scottish accent makes it sound almost gentle.

“Thanks.”

“I’m serious.” She leans forward, studying my face. “Your eyes look a bit dark. When’s the last time you slept properly?”