Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Cameron
Well, Cameron had really done it now.
That was the main thought running through his head as he pressed his back against the guest bedroom door.
Earlier that evening, he’d overheard Emory talking to Ronan in a tone that broke Cameron’s heart. Emory had said he was afraid Cameron had left not to get drinks, or even for the night, but for good. Cameron could admit he’d left Emory for a bit too long, but he’d had the best of intentions.
Over the past few weeks, he’d done a lot of negotiating with his octopus.
While his inner beast was ready to roll over and accept Emory’s mate mark, Cameron barely knew the man well enough to call him a friend.
He’d learned enough to know Emory probably wasn’t hiding any fish tanks, and the tour of his apartment had further proven that, but he still felt like they had barely scratched the surface.
His octopus refused to listen to reason.
They’d come to a bit of an impasse, which was probably why he’d told those guests he was Emory’s partner.
His octopus had been overjoyed, and for the first time in weeks, Cameron felt at peace.
It felt right to call Emory his something, his anything, and as the party continued, even without Emory by his side, he’d felt comfortable.
Emory also seemed more relaxed than Cameron had ever seen him before. That was why Cameron had run away when his past had been brought up. He hadn’t wanted to ruin the progress they were making by dredging up negative feelings. Especially about his horrid parents and somehow even worse ex.
Speaking of his ex… He would have lashed out at Cameron for bringing down the mood. While Cameron was almost certain Emory was nothing like Thomas, in the moment, it had seemed best to make a quick escape to regroup.
After splashing water on his face in the bathroom, he’d managed to calm his nerves and silence the intrusive memories.
To make up for his abrupt departure, he’d wanted to make Emory his preferred drink.
Unfortunately, Christopher had distracted him with his illustrative stories and boozy drink recipes.
When he’d returned to hear Emory’s distraught words, his octopus had taken a stand.
He was committed to their fated mate, and he was absolutely fed up with Cameron’s shit.
His octopus pushed him forward, and Cameron had no choice but to sit back down in Emory’s lap and commit to being there with him.
He hated to admit it, especially to his smug little cephalopod, but he was grateful to his octopus.
The rest of the evening had gone incredibly well.
He’d enjoyed Christopher and found himself bonding easily with Ronan.
Emory’s warm hand on his back had felt incredible—and their kiss!
Even just thinking about it had Cameron’s toes curling into the carpet in pleasure.
Unfortunately, in reminding him that he had run away from his fated mate earlier that evening, Christopher had brought Cameron’s somewhat drunk brain to a crashing halt.
He’d let Emory down and probably embarrassed him in front of his friend.
If this had been Thomas, there would be hell to pay later.
Emory wasn’t like Thomas, but that somehow made Cameron feel even worse.
He’d disappointed an amazing man, all because he couldn’t get himself together.
No amount of poking or prodding from his octopus had been able to get him out of his internal panic spiral, and he missed the rest of the conversation.
He only snapped out of his panic when Emory offered him his guest room.
It seemed there was a chance he could make up for his earlier mistake, and maybe even return them to that earlier kiss-fueled bliss.
Now, though, the weight of that decision was threatening to send him down yet another spiral.
In agreeing to stay here, he’d agreed to have the dreaded “what are we” conversation in the morning.
He had so much he still had to tell Emory.
Not only details about his past with his parents and Thomas, but also some of the long-lasting consequences of both of those relationships.
There were parts of him that had been repressed and cast aside for far too long.
He wanted to be able to share everything with a partner, but how much was too much? How fast was too fast?
Shay had talked him off this ledge before, telling him all he had to do was take a chance and put his trust in fate. She’d said as much after he’d debriefed her on their coffee date.
“He sounds nothing like Thomas! He seems caring, intuitive, and so interested in you. Yes, he’s busy with work, and yes, this all seems new to him, but it’s new to you, too! I know you think you have a lot of baggage, but who doesn’t? How about you guys figure it out together?” she had said.
Shay was the reason he accepted the party invitation in the first place. He thought about texting her now, but she was no doubt out with friends, enjoying her night off from FaceTiming with her stubborn brother who, “refused to let people into his life.”
Great, now he was quoting her in his head.
He sighed and walked into the bathroom, hoping to find either a spare toothbrush or, at the very least, some mouthwash.
He was surprised to find a well-curated cabinet full of toiletries.
It was all a little too impressive for a bachelor who had takeout containers piled up next to the trash can.
This, as well as some of the decor selections, made Cameron wonder if Emory wasn’t the mastermind behind the apartment.
Perhaps his mother, or another family member?
Cameron still didn’t know much about Emory’s family. He found he wanted to, though. He wanted to know everything there was to know about his fated mate, just like Emory had said. How else were they going to figure this thing out?
He left the bathroom and found himself facing a full-length mirror next to the dresser.
His cheeks were a little flushed, most likely a mix of anxiety and Christopher’s heavy-handed drinks.
He decided to change into something lighter for bed.
As he lifted up his sweater, the smattering of scars across his torso caught his eye first, followed by a pretty navy-blue lace.
All his thoughts slowed to a stop, and his octopus stirred, flicking a tentacle in curiosity.
When he’d gotten dressed that evening, his octopus had urged him to wear something pretty, just in case they ended up back at Emory’s place.
Cameron had, of course, tried to dissuade him.
He could almost hear Thomas in his head, calling him a slut for even considering putting out on the first couple of dates.
Thomas had many opinions on what omegas should and shouldn’t do.
His octopus had refused to budge, reminding Cameron for the hundredth time that Emory was nothing like Thomas.
Tonight had gone even further to prove that, hadn’t it?
Emory had seemed more than willing to end the night with a hug, respecting Cameron’s wishes at all times.
For all Thomas’ blustering about omegas needing to be demure, he also wanted what he wanted, the second he wanted it.
He probably would have demanded Cameron spend the night with him, and he definitely wouldn’t have approved of him wearing cute panties.
He wouldn’t have even liked Cameron talking about clothing with those nice women earlier.
He’d been very careful never to tell Thomas he was a demiboy. Thomas wouldn’t have understood what the term meant, let alone what it meant to Cameron. He hadn’t wanted to risk having this new, precious part of himself crushed by Thomas’ heavy boot.
Tonight, though, standing in Christopher’s gorgeous apartment, with Emory by his side, he’d been able to talk about fashion while wearing a pretty sweater and secretly wearing pretty underwear, and he’d felt so…safe.
Cameron’s eyes drifted shut, and he tightened his fist in his sweater.
Emory wanted to get to know him? He wanted Cameron to open up about something real? Well, this was pretty real, wasn’t it? It wasn’t his only secret, not by a long shot, but it definitely wasn’t something most people knew about him.
Before he could reconsider, he marched out of the guest bedroom and straight into Emory’s room.
He found Emory sitting on the edge of his bed, still mostly dressed in his party clothes, having only discarded his tie and socks.
He seemed lost in thought as he fidgeted with the button on his shirt sleeve.
Cameron was just opening his mouth to speak when Emory lifted his eyes and spotted Cameron.
His face was so open, so vulnerable, that Cameron lost his nerve and dropped his gaze to the floor.
The first thing his eyes caught on were Emory’s slightly overgrown toenails. Funny, he would have expected a CEO to be impeccably groomed. Instead, Emory, like his home, was imperfect and real. Piles of work strewn about, dirty dishes in the sink, exposed hairy toes, and all.
Cameron steeled himself before straightening up to his full height.
“You said you didn’t feel like you knew much of importance about me, and I didn’t like that.
” Emory stared at him, his mouth slightly agape.
“I don’t want you to feel like I’m trying to hide from you or run away from you.
I want you to get to know me, and I want to get to know you. This is all just…hard for me.”
Emory nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Cameron’s. “It’s not easy for me either, Cameron. I’m severely out of practice with dating. I am, as always, underwater at work and unable to give you the time I should be able to and—”
“Emory,” Cameron interrupted because he hadn’t meant to start a whole conversation about their shortcomings.