Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Cameron
Shay spent the week of Fall Harvest making fun of Cameron for how much time he spent on his phone, crafting the perfect messages to send Emory to make him smile. Every time Emory sent back an “lol” or a “haha,” Cameron felt like he’d won an achievement award.
Thomas had been terribly controlling, wanting to know what Cameron was doing at all times.
It had made Cameron hate texting, but with Emory, it felt easy and almost fun.
He only used one emoji, the laughing crying face, and every time he sent it, Cameron’s octopus helpfully conjured up Emory’s broad grin from the day they’d met.
If he could keep that image in his head, maybe he could find a way to believe in this whole fate thing.
For days after their encounter in the airport, Cameron could have sworn he could feel Emory’s arms around him and smell his rich scent.
But as time passed, the sound of his laugh became harder to conjure up and was replaced by creeping nerves.
It had been a long time since he’d dated anyone.
There had been one or two men after Thomas, but his octopus had been almost as emotionally battered and bruised as Cameron had been.
Still, Cameron tried to dredge up everything he could remember about successfully dating, and his octopus tried to flirt and flounce over text whenever he could.
He felt like he was only semi-successful, but his octopus thought they were doing great. He wiggled with joy and frolicked about anytime Cameron’s phone dinged. The constant internal reactions had Cameron’s heart fluttering in both good and bad ways.
For all Cameron’s skepticism about fate, Emory had clearly come into his life for a reason. At least that’s what Shay kept saying. She’d also said that about Thomas, except for the opposite reason. “You had to go through that to become the person you are now.”
Cameron knew his sister only meant that he was the person he was now because of what he went through, not that he'd been destined to experience trauma, but still. He wanted to argue that he, in fact, didn’t have to go through anything. He could defy fate and expectations and become a hermit.
It looked like Emory was here for now, though, and wanted to give their relationship a fair chance, so Cameron kept up a steady stream of texts.
He was also exceptionally busy at work. Between catching up after the holidays and preparing for the next one, he was working a lot of late nights, and before he knew it, their date was upon them.
The restaurant Emory chose was in the center of town and required a tram and bus ride to get to.
Cameron had never seen the need for a car in the city, but he’d also never been the biggest fan of public transportation.
The tram schedule could be thrown off by an errant accident or issue, and the bus was even worse, especially in bad weather.
He left earlier than necessary for the date, which of course meant that everything went smoothly, and he arrived almost an hour early.
He decided to get a calming tea at a cafe across the street and curled up in an armchair by the window. His fingers itched to look at Emory’s social media one last time, but he had promised himself he wouldn’t.
Despite his initial protest, Cameron eventually gave in to Shay’s prodding and checked Emory’s socials. After some extensive Googling, he’d discovered that Emory’s company was quite large and rather impressive, with partner offices all over the country.
Emory’s profile mainly featured photos of him with two male friends and a series of group photos from work retreats.
There were also several photos of Emory with his mother.
Their bone structure was similar, but unlike Emory’s head of blonde hair, his mother had a long mane of gray hair.
The only word Cameron could think of to describe her was regal. Well, regal and intimidating.
It was below these photos that Cameron sadly learned the reason Emory had become CEO of his company.
The second he saw the memorial Emory had shared the previous summer, commemorating the three-year anniversary of his father’s death, Cameron wished he’d never listened to Shay.
He’d been worried Emory might be a creep, but it turned out Cameron was the creep.
He wasn’t looking forward to fessing up to this overstep, but he figured he’d probably have to. His skin had prickled in that old familiar way, and his octopus had cowered in fear at the mistake. He’d closed out of social media and hadn’t looked at it again.
He’d learned enough about Emory through their texting that he thought he could maintain a decent conversation for at least their first date.
Although… maybe he could do a little more research to prepare himself.
He found himself reaching for his phone again.
Perhaps he could start the date with a rousing conversation on climate policies.
Shay had teased him about this, too. He knew he probably shouldn’t treat dating like a job interview, something he could pass or fail.
He wanted to try and make this thing work, though, and he hoped Emory felt the same.
If they really hit it off today, maybe it would be the first step in their successful romance.
Or…something.
Finally giving in, Cameron got lost in his research until movement across the street caught his eye.
A black town car had pulled up in front of the restaurant, and it idled there for a few moments before pulling away, revealing a figure disappearing into the restaurant.
Cameron checked the time and saw it was a quarter till.
If Emory could be early, so could he.
He tried to remain calm, but his octopus was bouncing up and down, and he found himself scrambling out of his chair, hastily grabbing his jacket, and rushing out of the cafe. His eyes barely had time to adjust to the dark street before he was barreling into the heavy oak door.
His octopus gave one final bounce and then fell utterly still as Cameron entered the restaurant’s foyer. It gave Cameron just enough warning to glance up and avoid running face-first into his fated mate. Again.
His shoes made a horrible squeaking noise on the tile floor as he pulled up short, but Emory didn’t even blink.
“Well, hello,” he said, his voice somewhere between a purr and a growl. It was so much richer than Cameron had remembered, and his octopus’ tentacles quivered at the sound.
“Hi,” Cameron whispered.
Emory smiled warmly at him but made no move to approach.
“You… It’s…cold out, huh?” Cameron stammered.
His octopus slapped a tentacle against his forehead in an uncanny mimicry of the way Cameron wanted to face-palm. After all the preparation he’d done, that was truly the best he could come up with?
Emory tipped his head, thankfully not addressing Cameron’s awkward intro. He had his jacket draped over his arm, and in an impressively smooth move, he unfurled it and placed it over Cameron’s shoulders.
The well-dressed hostess watched them from behind her stand, and Cameron did his best not to melt into a puddle on the floor.
He should probably say something, even just a thank you, but his mind was strangely blank.
He’d come up with over eleven topics of conversation, rehearsed three practice openers in the mirror, and Emory’s mere presence had derailed his thoughts entirely.
Silence stretched out between them until the hostess cleared her throat, shooting Cameron a sympathetic look before gesturing for them to follow her.
As they walked down a long hallway, Cameron tried his best to calm his octopus and gather his thoughts.
Naturally, he somehow managed to stumble over one of the ornate carpets.
He came way too close to grabbing onto a bust of Julius Caesar.
Thankfully, before he could destroy decor and ruin their date before it even started, Emory steadied him with a hand on the middle of his back.
Just like in the airport, the touch instantly soothed him. His octopus settled, and Cameron’s stride evened out as they continued down the hall.
Emory subtly tipped his head down to look at Cameron, and his warm breath ghosted across Cameron’s neck. “Would it make you feel any better to know I’m a bit nervous, too?”
Cameron’s steps faltered, but Emory pressed firmly on his back to keep him moving forward.
His octopus wrapped his tentacles around himself in a hug, and Cameron desperately wished to be in Emory’s arms again.
He should have hugged him in the entrance hall.
Instead, he had to settle for leaning into Emory’s guiding touch.
When they arrived, the host waved a showy hand at their table.
It was adorned with folded napkins shaped like swans, several wine glasses per person, a set of beautiful candles, and enough silverware to stock a four-person household.
When Emory suggested the restaurant, Cameron had looked it up and noted it was pretty fancy.
He hadn’t known it was this fancy, though.
The napkins looked better made than Cameron’s winter coat, and the tablecloth was pristine, not a wrinkle in sight.
There was even something luxurious about the smell in the room, a mix of rich sauces and expensive perfumes.
Cameron hesitated beside the table. Despite his admission, Emory looked completely unruffled. Before Cameron could ask if he had a preferred seat, Emory pulled out a chair for Cameron.
While his octopus swooned, Cameron collapsed gracelessly into the chair, and Emory removed his jacket from around Cameron’s shoulders before taking his own seat.
“May I start you off with some wine?” the host asked, and Emory inclined his head to Cameron.