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When I knew it was going to happen, I paid attention to everything. How far apart we stood. His body language. Mine, too.
How was he looking at me?
Or worse, how was I looking at him?
It would be awful if I was looking at him in a way that might hint to any of my thoughts when it came to him.
For the first time in my life, I had to think things like … could he see in my eyes just how badly I want him to screw me through the wall?
Because I did.
And Cameron knowing that would only lead to bad, unprofessional, naked things.
I steeled my expression before he gave a polite knock and pushed open the door.
“Everyone getting along in here?” he asked. The cat meowed, trotting over to Cameron to sniff at his big work boots. He smiled. “He’s friendly.”
“Apparently,” I drawled.
Cameron set down two small bowls and then a big plastic tub.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Litter box. We can stick it in the laundry room by the bathroom.”
“Litter box?” I asked weakly.
“Yup. We had one cat who made its way into the house a few years ago, and my dad liked it enough to let it stay. We kept this just in case it happened again.” He smiled a little. “He’s been too sick for them to think about taking on another pet, but I know he’d love one.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Is that your way of saying I can’t bring him to your mom’s for shared custody?”
Cameron laughed. “Doubtful. Though my dad would love it, I’m sure. He always believed that more chaos in the house was never a bad thing. Just meant more love filling the rooms.”
What must that be like?
He wasn’t sharing it to make me feel any sort of way about my own upbringing, but it still served to trigger an itch under the skin. An uncomfortable comparison that left me feeling a very particular reaction.
I cleared my throat. “Fine. I can handle a litter box.”
“Not a cat person?” he asked as he filled the small bowl with cool water. When he set it down, the cat wandered over, lapping into the bowl immediately. My heart churned uncomfortably. How come I hadn’t thought to give him water right away?
“I don’t know if I am or not,” I answered honestly. “No pets, remember?”
Cameron made a small noise, deep from the back of his throat, and I crossed my arms because if that sound made my chest perk up in visible ways, I’d never, ever forgive myself.
“How old were you when you asked for one?” He yanked open a can of wet cat food and scooped some of it into another small bowl. My little roommate moved right to that next, devouring the tiny portion almost immediately.
“You’re not giving him more?” I asked, ignoring his question entirely.
“Not yet. If he’s gone a few days without eating or drinking, I don’t want to make him sick. If he does all right the next few hours, then give him another helping that size later tonight.”
I nodded.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he said smoothly. “Unless you did that on purpose.”
My jaw clenched briefly, but I forced myself to relax because hell, what if me clenching my jaw had the same effect Cameron had on me when he clenched his? We were probably screwed already in this entire endeavor as it was, but if jaw clenching was the thing that would obliterate the professional boundaries between us, I would not be the one to send us spiraling.
And you know why I clenched in the first place? The words were hard to say.
