CHAPTER FIVE #2
When Nico had mentioned that his date liked computers, Cameron had thought he’d meant programming, or something more in line with what he did at Stone Digital Solutions. He had not been expecting to meet a six-foot-four, tattooed, musclebound gamer .
On the upside, the guy—Scott, he’d learned—had turned out to be a lot more pleasing to the eye than Nico had described.
He kept his hair parted to the right, the locks falling in an inky black sheet down to his chin, while the right side had been shorn so close to the scalp Cameron could just make out the faint line of a scar.
Thick lashes framed bright green eyes, and his high, angular cheekbones gave his features sort of a boyish charm that contrasted nicely with the thick stubble along his jaw.
So, not hot, per se, but definitely attractive.
Black hoops adorned his right eyebrow, his left nostril, and another looped around his thin bottom lip, right in the center.
Thick disks the size of quarters stretched out his earlobes, and while Cameron found the gauges fascinating, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would look like in thirty years.
Nico had chosen a casual burger place for dinner, which had ending up feeling a bit like a double-edged sword.
The restaurant was bright and open, not at all romantic, but not so loud that they couldn’t carry on a conversation.
While Cameron appreciated the whole “ bro” atmosphere as opposed to something more intimate, his nerves couldn’t handle much more conversation.
As it turned out, Scott was a little bit judgmental and a whole lot obsessed with himself.
When he’d made a rude comment about their server’s ass, Cameron had frowned, but he’d kept his retort to himself, hoping maybe it had been a slip caused by nerves.
Then, he’d spent twenty minutes boring Cameron to tears with a “Best of Scott Holloman” highlight reel told in third person.
Shortly after their food had arrived, he’d finally asked Cameron what he did for a living.
Cameron had decided to keep it simple since he suspected the guy didn’t really want to know.
Sadly, he’d been correct. The moment he’d uttered the word “computers,” Scott had interrupted him to go into a detailed rant about the newest online gaming community he’d joined.
Cameron tried hard to listen and appear interested but judging by the furtive glances Nico kept throwing him from across the table, he hadn’t succeeded. Not that it deterred Scott. A nod or a few mumbled words of encouragement kept him talking well after everyone had finished their meal.
“We should go out for a drink,” James, Nico’s date, announced once the plates had been cleared away.
“I have to work in the morning,” Cameron lied quickly, and by sheer willpower, he managed not to squirm under Nico’s glare .
As the boss, Cameron could set his own schedule, and he’d done so from the beginning.
Working four ten-hour days meant a long weekend, which he normally used to catch up on household chores and outside errands he’d neglected during the week.
So, while he didn’t technically have to work the next morning, he would happily put in a full day if it got him out of spending any more time with Scott.
“Come on,” Scott urged. “One drink.” He pressed a little closer to Cameron’s side in the booth they shared, and his big hand came down to land on his thigh. “I promise to get you in bed before midnight.”
Cameron didn’t miss the innuendo, and he shuddered a little at the thought of having Scott in his bed. The guy would probably spend the entire time talking about how big his dick was and how he would rock Cameron’s world.
Unfortunately, his reaction didn’t go unnoticed—misinterpreted, yes—and Scott’s gazed heated as his hand traveled higher up Cameron’s thigh. “One drink. What do you say?”
“One drink,” Nico echoed, his expression a mixture of a plea and a promise.
Shooting his best friend a you-owe-me-big look, he relented. “Where do you want to go?”
“Swerve?” James suggested .
“No.” He didn’t know if Asher would be at the club on a Thursday night, but he didn’t want to chance it, especially not with Scott in tow. “How about Outlaws?”
When no one objected, Cameron put a twenty down on the table to cover the cost of his meal, then excused himself to go to the restroom to wash his hands. Scott teased him about being a germaphobe, but thankfully, he made no move to follow.
Cameron spent a long time meticulously washing his hands from every angle. Then he spent a few more minutes scrutinizing his appearance in the mirror. When he couldn’t put it off any longer, he took a deep breath, mentally telling himself he could make it through one drink. Just. One. Drink.
Back in the restaurant, he found the trio waiting for him near the door, and he cringed a little on the inside when Scott curled an arm around his shoulders.
He didn’t want to hurt the guy’s feelings, but at the same time, it wouldn’t be fair to lead him on when he didn’t see them going anywhere after that night.
Cameron was still working out how to politely tell his date to fuck off when Scott leaned in close. He expected him to whisper something flirtatious in his ear, which would have been bad enough, but Scott didn’t bother to lower his voice at all.
“Look, it’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.” He pointed to a man in an orange T-shirt standing at the hostess podium. “I hate when people let themselves go like that.”
The man in question looked down at the floor, clearly mortified by Scott’s insensitive remarks. Cameron felt pretty fucking mortified himself.
“I think he’s very attractive,” he replied, making sure his voice carried. It wasn’t a lie, either. Sure, the stranger carried a little extra weight around his middle, but he had thick hair and sharp features that gave him that classically handsome look. “I’d take him home in a heartbeat.”
The man blushed a dozen different shades of red, but he gave Cameron a grateful smile. Cameron should have stopped there, but his annoyance at Scott’s shallowness pushed him to say more.
Holding his right hand to the side of his face, thumb at his ear, pinky finger touching his lips, he mouthed, “Call me.”
As he’d hoped, the man laughed and nodded a couple of times, seemingly in much better spirits .
“I’m sorry,” Scott muttered once outside of the restaurant. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No,” Cameron responded, not even trying to hide his irritation. “That was a dick move.”
Scott shoved his hands into his pockets and stared down at the sidewalk, falling into step beside Cameron as they began the three-block trek to the club. “Yeah. Would you really date someone like that, though? ”
“Someone like what? Someone handsome with a great laugh?” He shrugged. “Absolutely.”
God, this date really sucked, and he just wanted to go home, take a shower, and fall into bed. Unfortunately, his ride for the evening wanted to get a fucking drink. Thanks a lot, Nico .
He walked beside Scott in tense, uncomfortable silence while Nico and James carried on in front of them, both waving their hands in wild animated gestures as they talked and laughed.
It felt like an eternity before they reached the club, and by the time they stepped through the doors, Cameron had started grinding his teeth so hard his jaw ached.
Nico led the way to the bar, but before Cameron could follow, Scott’s massive arm came around his shoulders again, pinning him in place. “Listen, I’m really sorry if I offended you. I say stupid shit sometimes, but I’m usually not this big of an asshole.”
Somehow, Cameron doubted that. Still, he had to get through the next hour or so, and it would be less stressful if he played nice. “I understand. Just know that when you’re a jerk, I’m going to call you on it.”
Scott smiled, his free hand coming up to cradle the side of Cameron’s face. “I like that.” He leaned in a little closer, dipping his head until his lips hovered just a few inches away. “I think I like that a lot. ”
Gritting his teeth, Cameron tried to push away, but that muscular arm held him trapped. “I’m not going to kiss you,” he stated bluntly. “You need to back off, Scott.”
Undeterred, he smiled a little and moved closer . “Don’t worry. You’ll like it.”
“Jesus, you’re an arrogant prick.” He shoved hard at the chest pressed against him. “Get the fuck off me.”
Scott laughed but stepped away, dropping both hands back to his sides. “Okay, okay, don’t get your panties twisted.”
Cameron straightened his collar and checked the buttons on his polo as he tried to calm his racing pulse. Nico better pray to whatever deity he worshipped, because when they got home, Cameron was going to fucking kill him.