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Cameron leaned in. “She’s one of the good ones, inside and out. A real game changer. Have you ever been the bad guy, Terry? I have, I am and it’s a sick feeling.”
“Can’t say I didn’t have a bit of a heyday when I was younger.”
Cameron smirked, his eyes emerald and ice. “Yes, definitely a heyday as you’re what, now, sixty?”
“Damn it, Cameron,” I snapped.
“Forty-eight,” Terry chuckled taking zero offense.
“Playing it safe aren’t you Abbie?” He said, his voice cracking as he turned to me.
“Terry,” I pleaded. “I took the liberty of making us dinner reservations. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” he answered.
“We should probably go,” I said just as Cameron smacked his palm on the table commanding our attention.
An ill feeling crept over me as my mind wandered back to Luke.
“Romance is dead, she thinks it’s dead, did you know that, Terry?”
“And what do you think?” he replied.
“I think,” Cameron swallowed, “I think people are afraid of it, but I have proof it still exists.”
“Really?” Terry said, more concerned for me than amused at that point.
“Nothing beats a picture,” Cameron said softly
I spoke up then. “My mother takes pictures. She says that there’s always more to the story.”
“Oh, there’s more,” Cameron said as his hard eyes swept me. “So much more,” he rasped out, his features softening. Can you sleep?” He croaked. “Baby, I’m not sleeping.”
Terry stood. “I’ll get us a cab.”
I nodded. “Please.”
“Of course, I’ve taken enough of your time,” Cameron said keeping his eyes glued to mine.
“It’s nice to meet you, Cameron,” Terry said. “Good luck to you. Abbie, I’m going to step outside.”
“Thank you,” I said as Terry grabbed his coat draping it over his arm and wordlessly asking my permission to leave me alone with him. I nodded and turned to Cameron as a thousand emotions ran through his features.
“Do we mean anything to you at all?”
“Don’t act like I wasn’t there,” I said defensively “I was there.”
“Are you going to fuck him?” He snapped, his fists clenching on the table. I moved to leave, and he caught me by the hand. “I’m sorry, but I can’t handle knowing he might want to and you might let him. Jesus, Abbie, are you going to let him touch you?” He broke then as I
watched, paralyzed by it. “What are you doing with him?” he asked, the desperation in his voice breaking me. “I love you.”
“I’m not with him, Cameron, I’m not with anyone.”
“I’m still there, where we were,” he whispered softly. “You’re in my veins, Abbie. You should know that. I’ll never stop loving you.”
Through the large window, I watched Terry hail a cab.
“Look at me,” he whispered. “This is me at my worst. Please don’t do this to us.”
