Chapter Thirteen
Thanksgiving in the Stone house was already in full swing by the time four o’clock rolled around the next day.
The smells of roasting turkey, tart cranberries, and freshly baked bread filled the air, making Cameron’s mouth water and his stomach rumble.
His mother and aunts had been in the kitchen all day, threatening anyone who came any closer than the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room.
At least they’d been kind enough to set up an assortment of appetizers along the chest-high counter.
His dad and uncles had planted themselves in the living room in front of the television, yelling loudly about bad calls and red flags. Every once in a while, one of them would grudgingly brave the kitchen to fetch another round of beers for everyone.
Since none of Cameron’s cousins had been able to make it back for the holiday, that left him alone to deal with the craziness. The problem was, he didn’t quite fit anywhere, despite being surrounded by family.
Every time he’d tried to help in the kitchen, he’d been chased out by his increasingly tipsy mother.
He had no desire to watch grown men chase a ball up and down a field, either.
Well, part of that probably had to do with the company.
If he had to endure his Uncle Craig ask one more time if he was still “doing the gay thing,” he was going to lose his fucking mind.
Then, there was Natalie. She’d shown up twenty minutes after he had, said hello to everyone, then disappeared upstairs to her old bedroom with her phone clutched to her chest.
At first, he’d guessed she probably had a new boyfriend she didn’t want to tell him about yet.
When he’d teased her about it, however, she hadn’t reacted.
Nothing. Not a smile. Not a snappy comeback.
She’d just shook her head and made a beeline up the stairs.
Sensing something was definitely off, he’d gone after her, only to have her slam the door in his face.
She hadn’t surfaced since.
So, when the doorbell rang at a quarter after four, he dropped the book he’d been reading and damn near sprinted through the house to answer it. Wrenching the door open, he stumbled to a stop, his heart pounding wildly as his gaze locked with Asher’s.
Cheeks pink from the cold, Asher smiled as his eyes raked over Cameron from head to toe. “Hey, sweetheart.”
A sheen of mist glistened over his hair in the porch light, making him look like some ridiculously gorgeous angel.
A single drop of rain dripped from the strands and rolled down the side of his neck, disappearing into the collar of his black sweater.
Cameron tracked its progress, swallowing convulsively as he envisioned leaning closer to lick it away.
“Hey,” he echoed, backing out of the doorway and motioning Asher into the house. “Come on in.”
“Sorry I’m late. There was an accident on the interstate, and traffic was backed up for miles.”
They hadn’t spoken since their brief text exchange, and a little part of Cameron had feared Asher wouldn’t actually show. He’d never been so glad to be proven wrong.
“No worries. I’m just glad you’re here.” Closing the front door, he made a sweeping motion toward the back of the house. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
“Wait,” Asher said, catching him by the arm when he started past him. “Before you do that, is there somewhere we can talk first?”
Cameron couldn’t think of any situation where that particular phrase ended well. “Yeah, okay.” It wasn’t like he could just refuse to have the conversation. “This way. Follow me.”
He led Asher down the short hallway to the staircase just past the coat closet.
Neither of them said a word as they climbed the steps, but Cameron’s mind raced with possibilities.
Was this it? Was Asher breaking up with him?
He mentally shook his head. No, Asher wouldn’t do that.
He wouldn’t drive all the way to Mission Grove just to end things with him in front of his entire family on Thanksgiving .
Pausing in front of the last door on the right at the end of the corridor, he took a deep breath before pushing it open and stepping across the threshold. “So, this used to be my bedroom.”
It hadn’t changed much since high school.
The walls were now bare of the band posters and award certificates, but the terrible oil paintings he’d done his sophomore year were still there.
His old desk with the bottom drawer that stuck still sat in front of the window.
Same bed. Same dresser. Even the comforter that covered the twin mattress was the same.
The edges had started to fray from repeated washes, and the once vibrant blue was now a dull periwinkle, but it was still one of his favorites.
Framed pictures lined the bookshelf in the corner, each one representing some of his best memories.
There was one of him and Nico after they’d won the pumpkin carving contest for the first time.
One of him and Natalie the year they’d dressed as Tinkerbell and Captain Hook for Halloween.
He’d been fifteen then, and while it had taken Natalie almost an entire month to talk him into it, he thought he’d made a pretty damn good Tinkerbell.
There were photos of his parents from their big anniversary party.
A group photo of him, Nico, Derek, and Tyler at their high school graduation.
Even Tyler’s baby brother, Riley, had a place on the shelf, smiling brightly into the camera as he showed off his first prize ribbon from the junior high science fair .
Glancing over his shoulder at Asher, he thought back to the big house on the hill and felt his lips turn down at the corners.
Asher had hung expensive paintings of famous authors in his library.
There were old movie posters on the walls in the theater rooms. The fireplace mantles were lined with all manner of trinkets, but there wasn’t a single photograph in the entire house.
It just seemed so…lonely.
Shaking off his melancholy, he pointed to the small mattress. “Do you want to sit?”
Asher nodded, following him to the bed and easing down on the edge of it beside him. He still didn’t say anything.
“What did you want to talk about?”
He was trying to be calm and patient, to let Asher get around to whatever he had to say in his own time, but he was about to vibrate out of his damn skin with anxiety. So, when several seconds passed, and Asher still hadn’t answered, he completely lost his grip on calm.
“You’re kind of freaking me out here. So, if you could just spit it out, that would be great.”
There wasn’t much humor in Asher’s laugh, and he stared down at his knees instead of meeting Cameron’s gaze when he finally spoke. “That seems to be a running theme in our relationship, doesn’t it? Me putting you through hell. ”
“What? No.” He took Asher’s right hand and held it tightly between both of his own. “That’s not what I meant.”
“But it’s the truth.” Asher’s stare shifted to their joined hands as his lips curved into a sad smile. “I really am sorry for that. You deserve a lot better than what I’ve given you.”
Cameron swallowed so hard it made him wince. “Asher—”
“I’m sorry,” Asher repeated, speaking over Cameron’s quiet protest. “I’m sorry because I know I don’t deserve you, but I’m too selfish to let you go.
I’m not good at this.” He made a vague gesture with his free hand, waving it back and forth between them, and sighed.
“I’ve never really wanted to be good at it.
” Finally, he lifted his head, revealing eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
“Then, I met you, and everything changed.”
An invisible band squeezed around Cameron’s chest, making it difficult to draw air into his lungs. Somehow, he managed to force words past his trembling lips. “For what it’s worth, you’re a lot better at this whole relationship thing than you think.”
Asher’s smile stretched a little wider, but his eyes still held so much pain and uncertainty.
“You make me want to be better.” Reaching out, he cupped Cameron’s cheek with the same care one might show a priceless diamond.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel like I don’t need you.
I always need you, Cameron. I’m just not very good at asking for help. ”
Cameron appreciated how much courage it took to admit those things, but he couldn’t let him accept all the blame. “I’m sorry, too. I was hurt and afraid, and I just wanted to fix everything.” He gave Asher a crooked grin. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m a little bit of a control freak.”
Asher chuffed out a surprised laugh. “You don’t say.”
“I overreacted.” It was that simple, and he was ashamed that it had taken Nico pointing it out to make him see it. “Instead of giving you a minute to catch your breath, I made it all about me and my need for control.” Closing his eyes, he nuzzled into Asher’s palm. “We’re a mess, aren’t we?”
There was no answer, no quiet chuckle that he’d expected. When the silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity, Cameron opened his eyes and tilted his head up to see Asher’s expression. He didn’t look angry, or even sad anymore. He looked thoughtful…and maybe a little anxious.
“Asher, what—”
Asher’s mouth crashed down on his in a searing kiss that made his head spin and his heart ache. It was over as abruptly as it had begun, but it was no less intense because of the brevity. Asher’s refusal to look at him again, however, was sending a lot of mixed signals .
“What’s wrong?” Cameron caught him by the chin and forced his head back around until their eyes locked. “Talk to me. Please.”
“I won’t. I can’t.”
Cameron frowned, feeling like he was missing something that should have been obvious. “What can’t you do?”
“Lose you,” Asher whispered. “I can’t lose you.” He stared back at Cameron, those soulful amber eyes wide and slightly panicked. “I…I…”