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Cameron wanted to put a face to Alicia’s name, but he couldn’t see the screen. Thank God he couldn’t. He wanted to dream of the library tonight, not feminine wiles sliding between them.
“’Licia, could you please buy a whole bunch of Black Jack chewing gum? I miss it so much.”
“Anything for you, sis.”
Sis?
They were close.
Of course they were. Henry spent most of his time with Alicia and Georgie. They shared history. They had deep bonds. Shared memories. Inside jokes. Emotional intimacies. They cared for each other. Loved, even.
Cameron was the intruder here, so he shouldn’t feel this pain.
He’d only known Henry a matter of weeks. What they had would, in the scheme of things, be fleeting.
“Oh God, Mrs. Chatterbox snagged him. I’d better take you to him.”
Georgie threw Cameron a quickly mouthed “won’t be long” and left.
Almost immediately, John dragged up a chair and took her place. He adjusted his cap and winked. “Can’t let a cute guy sit all on his own.”
“Did I see you talking to the host?”
“The great Mr. Tilney.”
“You knew him before tonight?”
“Knew of him. He inherited massive wealth, on top of that is a ruthless defense attorney, and also funds heaps of city programs. He was the reason I could afford the Spirit of Adventure—ten days sailing down the coast of the North Island.”
“So you thanked him?”
“You bet I did. Then he asked who invited me and I told him you were close friends with Georgie and that she’d invited us all. He eyed you two and asked again how friendly you were.”
“No mention of Henry?”
John’s face pinched. “Didn’t think it necessary. He asked if you were a good guy.”
“He asked what?”
“I said you were the best guy.”
“Hardly the best.”
“Sure you are. You’re kind and sweet, and I’m still half-hard from our dance.”
“John,” Cameron groaned. “Stop.”
“That bashful expression again. Could eat it up.”
Henry’s laughter caught Cameron’s ear. Henry was crouched by Georgie, animatedly chatting to Alicia.
A pink-cheeked Isabella toppled into the chair on Cameron’s other side. “Those custard pies are delicious. Get me out of here before I eat them all.”
“I was about to tell Cameron about the other party.”
“Other party?” Cameron asked him.
“A friend of ours just texted. It’ll be more fun than this.”
“This extravagant affair?”
“It’s only a street from home,” John winked. “So I can drink.”
A street from home?
A peal of laughter pushed through the room. His stomach churned.
He should make his excuses to Henry and Georgie and get himself tucked into bed. Sleep it off.
“Do you think I could get a ride?”
John beamed. “Belle will take the backseat.”
“You want to go home?”
“I think I should.”
Cameron had been contemplating his last words to Henry all week.
Henry had looked at him beseechingly, but his dad had come to his side and urged Henry to give Georgie space.
Cameron had quickly said his goodbyes to Georgie, barely taking his eyes off of Henry as he was drawn away.
Gosh, it had all ended awkwardly.
He glanced at his phone where it lay next to a fresh Smarties packet in his desk drawer.
He pulled it out for one more look at his messages.
* * *
(Sunday)
Henry: Hope you feel better today.
* * *
Cameron: Hope so too.
* * *
(Yesterday)
Georgie: We still on for the walk with Henry tomorrow?
* * *
Cameron: Maybe?
* * *
Georgie: Three o’clock, we’ll pick you up with coffees.
Cameron rubbed his phone. Ten minutes, and they’d be here. Would it be weird seeing Henry again after not texting all week? Had Henry thought about him? Had he found it as difficult as his students did, not having a phone?
Cameron scolded himself for not concentrating on reviewing his brother’s speech for the after-show tomorrow.
He returned to his laptop and reread the first few paragraphs—
His eyes darted to the clock. Eight minutes.
Of course, they might not be here exactly on time.
Six minutes.
Four minutes.
Two.
Cameron sent off his suggestions to Brandon, who called out thanks from his office.
Three o’clock.
He packed his things away. He’d leave his bag here over the weekend. Brandon had everything they needed for the double feature, so all he had to do now was show up.
Five past.
Guess they were running late.
Ten past.
Should he have replied to Georgie’s last message? Had hers not been a statement so much as a question?
He should write back now.
But if they were on their way, running late, it would come across impatient, annoyed.
A burst of lively energy drifted up the staircase to the balcony. Isabella and John. “I’ll get Brandon, you get Cameron.”
There was no time to hide.
John burst into his office with a wild smile that stretched his goatee. “Come, quickly. Grab your jacket. We’re leaving for Christchurch. You’re looking good today, hot jeans.”
“Christchurch? That’s a five-hour drive.” What was it with John and his love of long car rides? “I can’t. I have plans.”
“Move them to another day.”
Isabella sauntered into the room, violet scarf around her head, sunglasses settled on top ready to slide down, a worn-out looking Brandon behind her.
