Warrior’s Cross

Chapter Six #2

It was another quiet minute before Cameron whispered against Julian’s shirt. “I know I love you. It’s crazy. And you... I didn’t think you’d ever...”

The words zinged through Julian’s chest, and he held Cameron closer as he tried not to grin. He ducked his head and kissed Cameron’s neck possessively. Whatever happened tomorrow would be okay, because they had this tonight.

It was just before seven on a Friday night. Spring was taking root in the city and the sun was setting, sending shimmers of light through the windows. Decorations glittered all over Tuesdays; it was decked out for a private party that was to start at any moment, and the place buzzed with preparations. Metal detectors guarded the doors and large security officers stood around the room. There were men in tuxedos and women in fur lining up to be checked against the exclusive guest list.

The restaurant closed like this for private parties several times a year because of its excellent reputation for discretion, respect, and elegance, its secure upstairs location, and particularly because of Blake Nichols’ extensive connections. There were a lot of big names in the restaurant tonight. Celebrities, politicians, high-powered businessmen, professional athletes, society debutantes. It was a mishmash of powerful people and their lackeys.

Nights like this always proved to be interesting. And profitable, if there was enough booze. And Blake always made sure there was enough booze.

In the lobby outside the restaurant entrance, Julian raised his hands and watched the burly security guard carefully as he was patted down.

When the man was done, he stood once more and nodded at Julian.

“Have a good evening, sir.”

“And you,” Julian responded softly as he stepped through the doors and gave a name to the hostess. It wasn’t his name, but it was a name nonetheless. And lucky him, it wasn’t Keri monitoring the guest list.

The woman gestured for him to enter after checking her list. He nodded to her politely, and soon he was into the party and gritting his teeth against the urge to groan. Julian hated crowds. They made him paranoid and edgy. Especially crowds like this, where trouble was likely to come from someone who knew how to make it. Guests milled about on the cleared front floor, where servers moved with silver trays of champagne and tiny hors d’oeuvres.

Julian made his way through the crowd gracefully, nodding politely to those who greeted him and sipping at his own glass of champagne. Blake had a client in the crowd, one who would be drawing the proverbial bull’s-eye on someone’s back as soon as Julian found him. Fridays were normally reserved for Cameron, but with a party like this, Cameron had been assigned to work anyway. Julian had thought he would be forced to sit at home and stare at the walls all night, but the unexpected need for his presence had been sudden. He’d had very little forewarning, not even enough to call Cameron and warn him that he’d be here.

But when Blake called, Julian had to move. It was the only reason he was here and not at home, catching up on his sleep.

“Cameron,” Miri whispered when she returned to the service area to fill her tray. “Julian’s here.”

He glanced up from the champagne he was pouring and smiled.

“Really? I didn’t know he’d be here.”

“Why not?” she questioned incredulously.

“I don’t ask where he is every minute of the day,” Cameron said as he set aside the bottle.

“So, he knew you’d be working a party he was attending, and he didn’t tell you?” Miri asked dubiously.

Cameron frowned a little. “He would have mentioned it, so he must not have known until the last minute.”

Miri raised an eyebrow and looked at him. “You going to go out and see him?” she asked curiously.

Cameron shifted his weight, but stopped and thought about it for a long moment, the smile fading a little. “If he’s here, he’s probably working,” he said slowly. “I wouldn’t want to bother him.” The thought that Julian might be “working” at Tuesdays sent a bolt of uneasiness through him. He still wasn’t quite sure what Julian did, but he knew it wasn’t necessarily... good.

“Working?” Miri echoed.

“Yeah,” Cameron said, trying not to wince. “He’s an antiques dealer, remember? He travels a lot looking for things for people. Usually rich people,” he improvised. “Probably lots of them here tonight. Clients and contacts and... stuff.”

Miri stared at him for a moment and then smiled slightly. “You’re both so weird,” she muttered as she moved away.

Cameron watched her go before shaking his head. “You have no idea,” he murmured. He picked up the tray of filled champagne flutes and headed out to the floor.

Julian glanced toward the back of the restaurant briefly before his attention was drawn to a man beckoning him. He cut his way through the growing crowd easily and greeted the man and his companion.

“I’d like you to meet an associate of mine,” the man said to Julian pointedly. “Ronald, this is the man I was telling you about.”

“An honor to meet you, sir,” the stranger offered as he shook Julian’s hand. “Gary tells me you found him several rare books in the last year.”

“Nothing that couldn’t be found on eBay these days,” Julian assured the man cheekily.

The target laughed and nodded. “I’m in the market for Middle Eastern antiquities,” he told Julian. “I hear they’re going cheap now that the whole damn place is blowing up. That something you might be able to help me with?”

“I’m sure it is,” Julian assured him.

“Well, then I look forward to doing business with you,” the man said with a smile that Julian didn’t like at all.

“Likewise,” Julian murmured with a crooked smile of his own. It was always easier when the target was a bit of a jackass to begin with.

He looked away, trying not to sigh heavily, and he caught sight of Cameron as he emerged from the back. Julian’s stomach flipped uncomfortably, and he averted his eyes quickly, trying to pay attention to the conversation around him. Cameron’s movements repeatedly drew his attention, though, and so Julian kept track in an effort to avoid him. He didn’t trust himself or Cameron not to react in a manner that was too familiar when Cameron got close. Julian never knew who was watching at things like this.

He was going to kill Blake for talking him into this. What the hell had he been thinking? He could easily have caught up to this guy elsewhere. He wasn’t exactly the most careful sort, standing in the middle of a crowded party chatting up a stranger about stolen antiquities.

Cameron moved around the room smoothly, offering the tray to various guests. Julian could see his professional facade and silent manner firmly in place, but he could also see the man unobtrusively scanning the crowd. Someone had obviously told him he was here.

Julian’s lips compressed, and he mentally cursed. He should have let Cameron know he’d be here somehow. The decision to attend had been last minute, but he still could have attempted to call the restaurant and explain. He should have at least tried.

He was going to buy Cameron a cell phone, right after he throttled Blake.

It took most of a round of the room before Cameron entered the area where Julian stood, speaking with a man he was pretty sure was the center fielder for the Chicago White Sox. The waiter stopped several times along the way as guests lifted tidbits from his tray. It was while glancing over a woman’s shoulder that Cameron finally caught sight of him. He paused just a few seconds longer than he normally would have before silently turning away from the first group of party-goers and approaching the cluster of people surrounding Julian.

He looked uncertain and a little nervous. Julian hated seeing that look on Cameron’s face, knowing he was the cause. He hated even more what he knew he was going to have to do.

He watched Cameron’s approach discreetly, and when he finally caught Cameron’s eye he shook his head minutely and pointedly looked away from him, turning his attention back to the man speaking to him.

The motion visibly took Cameron aback for a moment, but his innate skills smoothly moved him to a group to the side, neatly sidestepping where Julian stood. Julian glanced to the side guiltily and watched him walk away. He felt like a complete bastard, but he couldn’t have the wrong people knowing he knew Cameron at all, much less that he was involved with him.

“Are you all right, son?” the deputy mayor asked him with a frown.

“Of course, sir,” Julian answered in a low, smooth voice as he returned his attention to the conversation at hand.

“So, tell me,” the man’s wife asked Julian with a smile. “How does one become so successful when dealing antiques? You seem to know everyone here!”

“Word of mouth, ma’am,” Julian answered with a smile as he took another flute of champagne from a passing waiter and gulped it down.

Cameron got back to the service area and set down his tray before taking a deep, steadying breath. He rubbed his hands over his eyes as he headed back to the kitchen to switch jobs with the expediter. There was no way he wanted to put Julian—or himself—in that position again. He didn’t know what was going on, but he had to trust that Julian had his reasons. But why couldn’t he even nod hello, like so many other strangers in the room?

Before too long, Miri entered the kitchen. “What’s wrong?” she asked him in concern as soon as she caught sight of him.

Cameron sighed. “Nothing.”

“You look like someone kicked your puppy,” Miri observed. “Did you get to talk to Julian?”

“He’s busy,” Cameron answered with a quick shake of his head. “I couldn’t bring myself to interrupt.”

Miri raised one eyebrow and looked at him dubiously. “You sure you’re okay?” she asked again.

Cameron shrugged. “Just hard, you know? Reminds me that I’m just a waiter, and he’s someone important.”

Miri stopped what she was doing and stared at him. “He tells you that?” she asked in horror.

Cameron flinched, realizing how that sounded. “No!” he insisted, turning to look at her. “No, he doesn’t. He’s never even hinted at something like that. It’s just what I think sometimes, is all.”

She looked over him, brow furrowing in worried sympathy. “Are you two... okay?” she asked gently.

Cameron worried at his bottom lip and looked over at her again.

Julian worked with Blake. This party had been in the works for weeks.

If Julian were meant to be here, Blake would have told Julian that some time ago. So why hadn’t Julian told Cameron?

“I guess so,” he answered finally. “I don’t know.”

Miri’s eyebrows climbed in surprise. “Why? What’s going on?” she asked. “You seem so happy.”

Cameron frowned a little. “I just get nervous. I don’t want to mess it up. It just... scares me sometimes.”

“Scares you?” Miri prodded carefully as someone called for her.

Cameron’s shoulder edged up. Despite Julian’s admission that he loved him, Cameron feared something would happen to make Julian leave. Being summarily turned away out there on the floor rocked Cameron’s confidence. Not being sure of his place in the relationship both scared and frustrated him.

“Are you going to be okay?” Miri asked him worriedly.

Cameron nodded distractedly, and Miri reluctantly left the kitchen.

He had the feeling it was going to be a long night, and suddenly he was very glad he’d switched jobs to work back in the kitchen. He didn’t think he could wait a table where Julian was sitting, smoothly conversing with other people, and have the man ignore him.

Or worse, have Julian treat him like a complete stranger.

He tried to swallow on a little frisson of anger. It shouldn’t have to be this way.

Out on the floor, Julian broke away from the little group that had monopolized his time the past hour and began moving slowly through the crowd toward the back. He’d thought he would at least be able to get through the night, maybe get some good intel about the asshole he was supposed to follow home, but all he could think about was the look in Cameron’s eyes when he’d turned away. He needed to talk to Cameron and explain or he was going to make a serious mental misstep out here. He avoided anyone he knew and anyone who looked like they knew him, aiming for the service entrance.

Julian stepped through the doors into the back, looking around for Cameron, just as Miri backed into the service area from the kitchen and almost ran into him as he stood there.

She recovered quickly, apologizing and backing away from him.

“I need to speak to Cameron,” Julian told her softly.

Miri looked unsure as she glanced around. “Perhaps that could wait?” she said uncertainly. “He’s occupied with preparations for the dinner service right now.”

“I’ll find him myself,” Julian murmured as he started toward the kitchen.

Miri gave a little squeak of surprise. “Wait,” she tried as she reached for his sleeve. “That area’s not open to guests, sir. If you go back there you could get us all in a lot of trouble. Including Cameron.”

“Then get him for me,” Julian suggested.

His voice was low and even, but forceful nonetheless. The tone obviously affected Miri. It sent a shiver through her, and she took a tiny step back. Her voice wavered a little when she spoke. “Please... let him be, just for tonight. He seems upset enough as it is.”

Julian closed his eyes and jerked his chin to the side, visibly expressing his disbelief. He’d known when he got the call this would be a bad idea, coming to Tuesdays tonight. He backed away from her in annoyance, then turned and strode to the doors, pushing through them and disappearing into the crowd again without another word.

Cameron moved through the restaurant in an exhausted daze, musing over the deflated, disorganized air about the restaurant as the staff cleaned up. These parties always ended with everything in disarray.

People always moved chairs, shoved together tables, and left dirty plates and half-full glasses in odd places.

He didn’t even want to begin thinking about the bathrooms.

Someone always found at least one pair of lacy underwear. Blake kept them in a drawer in his office labeled “Lost and Found.”

Cameron wondered about Blake’s sense of humor sometimes.

Miri broke through his fatigued mental ramblings when she approached him. “Tell me who he really is,” she demanded.

Cameron’s back stiffened immediately. “What do you mean?”

“Julian,” Miri hissed at him. “Who is he, really?” she asked him with a frown, her hands on her hips as she looked at him. “He won’t speak to you in public and he’s... he’s all mysterious and silent and... scary,” she stammered.

“Scary?” Cameron asked, turning to look at her, surprise on his face. “Why would you think that?”

“He was back in the service area tonight, demanding to see you,” Miri told him as she folded her arms around herself. “He didn’t even raise his voice at me, but...”

Cameron swallowed hard. He knew Julian could seem intimidating—tall and dark and hulking, his stoic expression rarely changing and his voice rarely above a whisper. “But?” he pushed.

“He frightened me,” Miri answered quietly. “He growled at me.

Does he . . . is he like that with you? Does he, like . . . threaten you?”

“Threaten me? No!” Cameron exclaimed, horrified. Why would Julian act like that toward Miri—toward Cameron’s friend? “He’s... quiet. And gentle, usually.”

Miri looked at him dubiously and shook her head. “What does he do?” she asked. “Why was he here tonight but ignoring you? Is he some closeted politician or a criminal or something? Is he married?”

Cameron’s mouth worked but nothing came out. All of his own unanswered questions started crowding his mind. “I told you. He’s an antiques dealer,” he managed to answer. He took a breath, trying not to overreact. Married? She thought Julian might be married? He quailed at the thought. He really didn’t know, but surely to God the answer was no, right?

“So why not speak to you?” Miri reasoned.

Cameron curled his fingers into his pants legs and shrugged. “I told you. He was working,” he insisted. “Besides, he tried to speak to me, but apparently you kept him away.”

Miri stepped back, looking hurt. “I couldn’t let him back there,” she said defensively.

Cameron merely rolled his eyes and shook his head. He turned away to start sorting the plates into stacks to be picked up and taken to the kitchen.

“Hey, did you guys hear about the guy that got dead after the party tonight?” Charles asked them as he walked by with an armload of dirty dishes.

“What? No! What happened?” Miri asked in surprise.

“Somebody said he had too much to drink, stepped in front of a cab or something. It broke his neck,” Charles answered with the sort of morbid glee that could only come from talking about the odd or gruesome death of someone you hadn’t known.

“Jesus!” Miri exclaimed in horror.

“Yeah. They said one minute the dude was standing there waiting for a cab, the next this big guy next to him is grabbing for him, trying to catch him as he fell. That’s got to stick with you for a while, huh?”

Charles said as he filled up on more plates and kept walking toward the kitchen.

“Wow,” Miri murmured, still staring at Charles as he walked away. “Talk about a rough night,” she muttered as she looked back at Cameron. “What was I saying?” Miri asked.

“You were talking about leaving me alone,” Cameron tried.

“Is Julian dangerous?” she asked him suddenly.

Cameron’s sight blurred as he stared at the tablecloth, trying to keep himself under control. “Why would you think that?” he asked softly.

“It was just a feeling he gave off,” Miri murmured after a moment of thought. “Like he was... capable.”

Cameron glanced over his shoulder at her. “I can’t think of him that way,” he answered.

Miri sighed. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

Tilting his head, he turned and stepped to give her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I will,” he assured her with a small smile, while inwardly all the lingering worry and sudden upset mixed with the little bit of blossoming anger threatened to make him ill.

It was after two in the morning before Cameron finally left the restaurant, having overseen the entire clean-up and prep for the next day. All who worked the party had Saturday off with pay as a thank-you for a job well done. Cameron had an extra day, just because.

Despite his argument, Blake had insisted.

And for the first time, he found himself relieved that Julian wouldn’t be with him.

It was Saturday morning now, past Julian’s scheduled Friday visit, and Cameron would have the whole day as well as Sunday and Monday to himself to rest and think before going back to work on Tuesday, although he really didn’t want to think at all. He knew he’d been lying to himself all this time, but he’d ignored it, hoping he’d give Julian no reason to change his mind about loving him. He would tell Cameron what he needed to know, wouldn’t he? What bothered Cameron most was that he still knew next to nothing about Julian, even after four months of being lovers.

It all ate at him, making him tired and depressed. And right now, Cameron was forcing himself to ignore the fact that he wanted nothing more than to be in Julian’s arms.

Cameron walked distractedly down the deserted sidewalk. He stopped briefly at the street corner, glancing each way before hurrying across the road and heading down the sidewalk toward his building, still stuck in confused, swirling thoughts, pretty much oblivious to everything around him. A couple blocks later, keycard in hand, Cameron stopped to open the door.

A hulking shadow stepped away from the building on the other side of the street and cleared his throat. Cameron’s chin snapped around to look in the direction of the noise as he jumped in alarm. He didn’t relax when he saw it was Julian.

“Are you okay?” Julian asked him without crossing the street. His voice carried in the cold night.

Cameron nodded slowly as he watched Julian, all of his worries echoing in his head as he found himself unable to relax. In the dark, lit only by a few harsh streetlights, Julian did look dangerous. Cameron realized now that he just hadn’t let himself see it. “Tired,” he finally answered hoarsely.

“I’m sorry I didn’t give you warning,” Julian told him as he stepped into the street. “I didn’t know I was needed at the party until tonight.”

Cameron nodded again, at war with himself. He believed in Julian, but his own insecurities ate at him. It made him mad that he wasn’t brave enough to ask the questions he wanted answered so he could feel better about their relationship. And Miri’s questions invested him with enough tension that he hesitated, unable to think of anything to say in response to Julian’s apology.

Julian must have been able to see the tension in him, because he stopped in the middle of the street, looking at Cameron with a blank expression. “May I come by tomorrow?” he asked, oddly polite. The air in front of him frosted over as he spoke.

Unable to read Julian’s face or his tone, Cameron hesitated. He’d hoped to have more time to think things over and come to terms with what bothered him. “Tomorrow meaning later today or actually tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Julian answered as a siren began to blare in the distance.

The sound startled Cameron, and he glanced toward where it was coming from. Julian didn’t bother to turn his head, now standing in the middle of the street and waiting for his answer.

Cameron looked back at him. “I thought Sundays weren’t available?” he asked uncertainly.

“I’m off this weekend,” Julian told him flatly.

Cameron stared at him and nodded, the yearning to be with him almost outweighing what he hoped was merely irrational fear. “Okay,” he agreed softly, knowing that if Julian had requested to come upstairs now, he would have agreed.

Julian nodded and smiled slightly. “Sleep well, Cameron,” he said in a louder voice as the siren got closer. The fire truck appeared around the corner several blocks away and blared its horn. Julian glanced at it and began slowly backing out of the road. The fire engine roared down the street and by them, its sirens deafening as the lights spun.

Cameron watched it as it sped past. When it turned the next corner and disappeared from view, the street in front of him was empty.

Left standing alone, Cameron looked up and down the street for Julian, not seeing anything moving or any sign of the man at all. It spooked him, and he turned and quickly entered the building. He didn’t breathe easily again until he was up in his apartment with the door shut and locked behind him.

Blake grumbled as he clomped down the stairs from his bedroom in his robe. It was well past midnight, and there was only one person who would be banging on the knocker at this time of night.

“What have you done now? You’re not even working a job tonight!” he asked tiredly as he swung the door open, expecting to see Julian hanging onto Preston as he bled on the doorstep like usual.

But Julian was alone, standing up on his own, dressed casually in a pair of faded jeans and a fleece pullover. He’d shaved off his beard sometime recently, but tonight he was scruffy. Somehow, the bastard still managed to look high-class.

The look in his eyes, however, spoke of utter defeat.

“You look like hell,” Blake blurted without thinking. “What happened?” he demanded.

Julian returned his frank appraisal with a wry nod of his head, and then he lifted a bottle of single malt Irish whiskey and shook it enticingly.

“A Bushmills night,” Blake observed with a slight frown. “Come in, then,” he added with a sigh as he turned slightly and waved Julian into the house. “Let me go put my pants on,” he muttered as Julian stepped past him unsteadily. “How’d you get here?” he asked suspiciously as he realized Julian wasn’t exactly sober.

“Preston dropped me off,” Julian answered as he looked around the large entry foyer. “Said he’d pick me up in the morning.”

Blake barked a laugh and shook his head. “He’s just pawning you off on me,” he said accusingly as he relaxed a little. “What’s the problem then? It’s not tactical or he’d be all over it.”

“I think I’m losing him,” Julian answered softly as he turned and met Blake’s eyes.

“Preston?” Blake asked in shock. Julian and Preston had worked together for longer than Blake had known either of them—and that was no short time itself.

Julian shook his head and looked away. “Cameron,” he answered in a voice that was barely a whisper. “He’s starting to get scared. I can feel it in the way he looks at me.”

Blake stared at Julian, worried and dumbstruck. He licked his lips and moved closer to his friend, taking his elbow gently and guiding him toward the study. “I’ll put pants on later,” he mumbled as they walked through the silent house.

Julian flopped into one of the heavy leather armchairs standing beside the cold fireplace, and Blake knelt to start the gas logs as Julian began struggling to open the bottle of whiskey. Blake sat down opposite him, crossed his legs, and watched him, knowing that when Julian wanted to talk, he would. Especially since he’d already been into the bottle. The problem, in the end, would be shutting him up.

Finally, Julian handed the bottle wordlessly to Blake for him to open it, and he slumped back into his chair and stared up at the dark ceiling. “He’s asking questions I’m afraid to answer,” he started abruptly. “If I lie, I lose him. If I tell him the truth, I lose him and risk him being hurt.”

“Jules,” Blake said softly as he carefully set the bottle of whiskey on the floor beside his chair, hoping Julian would forget it. “Can I ask you a question?”

“No,” Julian groaned with a shake of his head.

Blake ignored him. “What do you see in him?” he asked curiously.

Julian stared at Blake with wide eyes. “What the hell kind of a question is that?”

“An honest one,” Blake answered. “Don’t get me wrong. I adore Cameron. He’s a great guy. I’ve known him almost as long as I’ve known you. But he’s not exactly... your type,” he explained carefully.

“And my type is . . .”

“The type you never see again,” Blake answered wryly. “Or the type who’s likely to try to kill you afterward,” he added thoughtfully. “Of which Cameron is neither,” he clarified.

“Jesus, Blake,” Julian muttered, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“It’s not pretty, Jules, but it’s true. Cameron’s not like us. And quite honestly, I can’t imagine how he keeps your interest. And it wouldn’t surprise me to find out he thinks the same.”

Julian sneered at that and shook his head. “I love him,” he stated angrily.

“I know you do,” Blake assured him. “But why?” he prodded.

“There’s no answer to that,” Julian protested in annoyance that was obviously heightened by the alcohol he’d already consumed. Blake actually preferred dealing with Julian when he was drunk. It was almost like dealing with a normal person, one who let his emotions show. “I don’t know why ,” Julian went on in frustration. “I just...” He closed his eyes and turned his head, and the fire cast shadows over his drawn face.

“When I’m with him I feel like one of the good guys,” he tried to explain.

“You’re not one of the good guys,” Blake reminded.

“Shut up,” Julian grumbled. “I just... I feel normal with him.”

“You hate feeling normal,” Blake argued. He ignored Julian’s grunt of protest and continued, leaning forward as he did so. “And how can you call what you have with him normal?” he asked in annoyance. “You see him, what, not even two days a week? Less than forty-eight hours? And you probably spend most of that screwing and sleeping. You don’t know him, not really, because you’ve not spent any real time with him. And he certainly doesn’t know you . It’s not a relationship when all you do is fuck him and leave.”

“Fuck you,” Julian said in a surprised voice.

“No, fuck you , Julian,” Blake responded calmly. “What you have is nothing near a normal relationship. Take him out somewhere.”

“You know I can’t risk that,” Julian argued.

“And so does he, doesn’t he?” Blake pointed out. “You’ve told him that much. So of course he’s going to get scared. He’s not stupid.”

“I know he’s not stupid,” Julian whispered in a stricken voice. “He’s not... he’s not one of us, just like you said. He’s the kind of man who if you gave him a gun and told him he had two choices—“shoot one of your dogs or shoot yourself in the head”—he’d put the gun to his ear and pull the trigger.”

“Hell, Jules, you’d do the same thing if someone did that to you and your goddamned cats,” Blake said in amusement.

“No,” Julian murmured with a shake of his head. “No, there’s a third option. People like us, we’re third-option people. We take the gun, stuff it in the person’s mouth, and eliminate the problem. Walk off into the sunset with our kitty.”

Blake had to press his lips together tightly in order not to smile or laugh. That was such a Julian thing to say. He wondered if he’d opened up to Cameron enough to let the other man see his odd sense of humor.

“But Cameron,” Julian continued with a wave of his hand for emphasis. “He doesn’t know there’s a third option.” He shook his head and sighed softly.

“So... you love him, partly because he’s never been exposed to that third option,” Blake surmised with a small frown. “But just by being near him, you’re exposing him to it.”

“I love him because he’s him. I don’t want to change him and lose him,” Julian argued.

“Then don’t,” Blake advised with a shrug. “I’ve never seen you truly happy before this past year. It’s him doing it. I don’t know why or how. Hell, you don’t know how. But love is a funny thing, and when you find it, you have to hold on tight. Tell him what he needs to hear.

Give him what he thinks he wants.”

Julian sighed heavily and closed his eyes. “If I tell him what I am, I’ll lose him,” he said in a hoarse voice.

“I didn’t say tell him the truth,” Blake said. “Tell him what he needs to hear,” he repeated slowly. “If it’s what it takes to keep you both happy and him safe, do it.”

Julian stared at him for a long moment, nodding slightly. “And hope he never finds out?” he finally asked.

Blake shrugged in answer. “Hope he doesn’t, hope he does... Cameron might surprise you. Or he might kick you to the curb and run like hell. I know him pretty well, but I wouldn’t hazard a guess when it comes to this. It’s pretty serious, you know, if he loves you too.”

Julian grunted unhappily and continued to look at Blake as the firelight warmed the dark room.

Blake smiled slightly and shrugged. “Me, I’d run like hell from you,” he admitted freely.

Julian blinked slowly and a wicked smile began to form on his lips. “That’s because you know I top,” he responded mischievously.

Blake groaned, waved his hands through the air, and stood up, walking away from the fire and his friend. “Way too much information,” he mumbled as he left the room.