Chapter 9 #2
“I’m big on procrastination, and this piece has taken me longer than it should have.
It needs to be picked up tomorrow . . . well, I guess today.
” She laughs. Her braided black hair is threaded with purple, and she tucks a strand behind her ear, showing off a small gauge.
She finishes the sealant and puts the can down, then tucking her hands under her arms and hugging herself, she looks at me.
“What are you doing walking around at two in the morning? Walk of shame?” she teases.
“Something like that.” Rubbing the back of my head, I smile.
“Just needed some air.” She nods, and I look back at her painting, seeing it now fully for the first time.
“Holy shit.” Even on the dimly lit street I can see how incredible it is.
It’s bright even in the darkness. A bright abstract sunset splashes across the page, made up of geometric shapes and patterns.
All the chaos brings the piece together. “You’re fucking talented.”
“Thanks.” She looks me over, her eyes wandering, and heat caresses my skin.
“Sorry I startled you. You have a good night. And stay safe. You don’t know what weirdos are walking around at this hour.”
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “You’re right. You be safe too.”
“Yeah. I will. Have a good night—”
“Amira.”
“What?”
“My name is Amira; this is my gallery.” I look up at the building. I didn’t even know it was down here, and it’s only a few blocks from Bo’s apartment.
“Cam.” I smile at her.
“Well, Cam, if you’re ever out for a stroll between the hours of nine and five, you’ll have to stop by. Come check out my paintings. As you said . . .” Her dark eyes wash over me. “I’m very fucking talented.”
Oh. Oh damn. Okay. “I um . . .” My lips split into a wide grin. “I will. You have um, a great night. Stay safe.”
“You too.
She grabs the edges of her painting, carefully taking it inside the gallery. When I hear the click of the lock I leave, turning down the street and going back to Bo’s with a smile on my lips.
With Amira fading from my mind the closer I get, reality starts to sink back in.
I’m not even sure what I’m going to say to him.
Even if I wanted to see this thing through, I would never use Bo as an experiment.
What happens if I like it? I can’t be with him that way, I’ll ruin it.
I always do. I’ve never kept anyone happy long term.
They either cheat or leave me, and it’s all so painful.
Losing Bo that way . . . I can’t risk it.
Finally I see the restaurant in the distance and try to clear my mind some. It doesn’t work. I just can’t get past the questions in my brain. It doesn’t matter. Our relationship is perfect as it is. We don’t need labels or kisses, and all that shit just complicates things.
All I need is Bo.
Walking quietly up the steps, I take out my key and unlock the door.
My body relaxes when I see his key in the bowl.
Okay, good, he’s home and safe. I don’t want to wake him up, though, so I go to the couch and grab Bowen’s blue blanket, lying down and pulling it over my head.
It’s not that comfortable, but I’ll live for the night.
Light peels my eyes open and pain hugs me tight. Jesus, I shouldn’t have slept on here. Looking up at the stove I see it’s only ten, but I can’t hear anything. Bowen is probably still asleep.
All I want to do is shower.
I get up, walking carefully so I don’t make any noise. I open his door and freeze.
What the hell?
Bowen actually brought someone home? This foreign feeling fills my stomach. It’s ugly and hot, pissing me off. Yes I’m a hypocrite, seeing as my own cock was shoved down another man’s throat only hours ago.
You know what? This is great. So great. So happy for Bo. He deserves this. I look down at the floor and see a condom right by his trash can.
Oh, this does not feel good.
I look back up at the sleeping man wrapped in Bo’s arms. From what I can see he’s White, with brown curly hair. His mouth is pressed right into Bo’s hair, and he’s hugging him so tightly there’s no space between them.
The way I hold him.
This would be really great if it didn’t piss me off so much.
As he shifts a bit, the man’s eyes begin to open, then they squint at me, then shoot wide. “Um . . .” he says. “Bo, I can’t see without my contacts, but you have a blurry form in your doorway. Do you have ghosts?”
Bo stirs, opening his eyes and looking at me, blinking without his glasses. “That’s probably Cam.”
“Best friend Cam?” the guy says. Bo nods sleepily, putting his head back against this guys neck.
“Nice to meet you, best friend Cam.” He’s not letting him go, in fact he’s holding him tighter.
“Your best friend is a beast in bed.” Bo slaps him playfully, pulling away from his arms. He rubs his eyes then grabs his glasses, slipping them on.
“Here, Noah.” He hands Noah a contact container.
Noah gets up, and my eyes look away, seeing he’s in his underwear.
Not bothered one bit, he grabs the little container and excuses himself to go to the bathroom, leaving us in silence.
My eyes go back to the condom, and Bo’s eyes follow mine.
His cheeks bloom pink. “So, you had fun last night?” Why is my voice so high?
I cough, then try to smile. I try to be happy for him.
I can feel my lips pull tighter in a smile.
“What’s wrong with you?”
I relax my face. “Uh, nothing. I’m . . . nothing. It’s. Uh, it’s nothing.”
“What about you? Was it everything you hoped it would be?”
I want to lie, but I can’t. “Uh, no. I think I was just confused. I didn’t like it.”
Something flits across his face before he nods. “Well, glad you have everything figured out,” he bites out.
Is he mad at me? “You hungry? I can make you guys breakfast.” I need some space. I can feel my throat tightening, but I have no right to this feeling. I wanted this. I was hooking up first last night. I’m the reason Bo even went out.
“Cam.” My hand tightens on his doorknob. “You okay?”
How many times has Bo had to deal with my relationship bullshit? How many girlfriends have I brought here to meet him? This isn’t fair. I need to get my shit together. For him. “I’m great. Just tired.” I smile easily. “Slept on the couch. You were right. Not comfortable.”
“You can sleep in here if you want.”
“I’ll make you two breakfast first, okay.” Then shower. Then try to get my shit together. “I’m really happy for you. I am. He’s cute.” I try to smile, and then shut the door before I can get even more irritated for no reason.