Chapter 19
Bo
“Still nothing?” It’s been hours since Cam went on a little walk.
His phone was left in the car and I’m starting to get worried.
I’m not sure what happened back at the gym, but I know something did.
When Cam gets upset he gets quiet, and his eyes glaze.
He’s an angry crier, and I could see the sheen of tears starting to build in his golden eyes.
“No, and I’m really getting worried. This isn’t like him.
” Cam is six feet tall and two hundred plus pounds of muscle, but I’m still worried.
He’s not a fighter. My worry only deepens with each hour.
I’d called Noah because I was spiraling with worry.
Let’s be real, this weekend was nice but that’s all it was. Fun to pass the time.
“Ugh, I hate it when they run from their shit.” Noah says. “Don’t look at me like that, Jamie. You have your moments and we both know it.”
I laugh at them bickering. “What if he is with someone?”
My mind goes back to Amira; she’s only a few blocks away.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know.” I haven’t told Noah this, and I don’t know why. “We um, we kind of hooked up.”
“What! When?” Noah shouts. “Details. Detailed details.”
“All weekend. We had an agreement that we’d stop thinking and just do what felt right, and apparently that meant eating my ass on top of my piano, as well as a lot of grinding, dry humping, and making out. Oh, and very thorough blow jobs from yours truly.”
“Annnd . . . What did he say when you told him you have feelings for him?” I’m quiet for a moment. I know what he’s doing. He already knows damn well. “Bobo?” he singsongs. “What. Did. He. Say?”
“I know, I know. I just couldn’t.” And I’m glad I didn’t. Clearly it wasn’t for him, and if I had admitted how I truly felt, then what? It’s too awkward. “Clearly he doesn’t want me, Noah. He’s regretting it. You didn’t see him.”
“Aw, sweetie. I’m so sorry.” I’m just grateful I have Noah to talk to. It makes this easier. If I didn’t have him, processing this all alone would be hell.
“I need to realize this is never going to happen.” And now what? Do I want to spend my life alone? In the shadow of the happiness I know Cam will eventually find.
This time I know what he feels like, tastes like, what he looks like naked.
I know the way he moans so deeply when he comes.
I know that his goofiness extends to the bedroom, making what we’ve done this weekend so much more fun.
I know how easy it was with him, how he eased my mind and how he made me feel during the entire thing.
That may be the worst of it all. I got a small taste of what my life could look like with the person I love more than anything.
“Well, we’re having a get together next weekend. Hunter’s hot bestie is coming. He’s going through a lot and we’re trying to keep his mind off things. Best part is, he’s single.”
“I don’t know, Noah.”
“His name is Sawyer and he’s gorgeous.”
“Oh yeah? What does he look like?” Not that it matters. He could be the most gorgeous man in the world and I doubt I’d be interested.
“He’s a little taller than you are . . . gorgeous, tan skin, full lips, and bright brown eyes. He’s also an amazing pastry chef. Oh, and he has a really nice ass. At least I think it’s still nice. It’s been a while since I’ve seen it in person. Ah, college. What a time.”
“College?”
“Yeah . . .” He trails off. “We had a thing. A whisper of a thing. It did not go well.”
“Sounds like a dream,” I say flatly.
“That was then, this is now. He’s really great. Really. Let me talk to Puck Daddy later. Maybe it could be like a double-date thing. Oh! Jamie, love of my life, my sweet snookums, can we? How about a double date? Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
“So much fun,” Jamie says flatly.
“Jamie’s excited.”
“I don’t know.” A bang startles me. “What the fuck.”
“What? What’s wrong?” I’m quiet for a moment, afraid to move. “Are you okay? Bo! I’m coming over!”
“And doing what?” Jamie snaps. “Call the police, Bo.”
“I’m not sure.” I get up slowly, going to the door. The restaurant is closed now, for Christmas break, but it wouldn’t be the first time someone had one too many and stumbled up these stairs. Going to the door, I hesitate to look through the peephole.
“What’s wrong?” Noah asks. “I have nunchucks. Okay, they’re less nunchuck and more two dildos tied together with a string.”
“Noah—”
“They will do damage!”
I find some courage and look through the peephole. Um. “Dammit. I need to go. It’s Cam. He’s back.” And drunk by the looks of it, and . . . not alone.
“Okay, well, if you need anything, let me know. And think about it. Sawyer is a really sweet guy, and he’s going through a lot right now. It might be good for you both. One time in college he thought we’d slept together and he baked me cupcakes. They were delicious.”
“Ah, um, okay, I’ll let you know.”
“Night, Bo.”
I hang up as Amira knocks again. She’s barely holding him up. I swing the door open, looking at them both. “What’s going on?”
“Special delivery.” She grins nervously. “He cannot hold his liquor.”
“So . . . so drink. So . . . drink.”
“I think he says he’s drunk,” she laughs. Her voice is light and friendly but I can’t get past the jealousy I feel. He went to her. He . . . went right to her. And I already know what this is going to look like. The wheels have already begun turning. She’s next. It’s only a matter of time.
Amira is beautiful. Her long black hair is braided down her back, and her eyes are a unique shade of brown that I don’t see too often.
Her skin looks so soft—it fucking glows!
—her lips are full, and she’s wearing a deep red lipstick that sort of makes her look like a vampiress.
Her skinny jeans are tight, displaying a nice figure, and the sweater she’s wearing hugs her body as if it was specifically tailored for her.
She even smells insane, some kind of rich floral scent.
The kind of perfume I’d expect a goddess to wear while lounging by the pool with people fanning and feeding her grapes.
She’s gorgeous.
And she’s holding Cam up, her hand splayed on his stomach as he sags into her. I’m honestly impressed she’s holding him up. Of course she’s strong too! “Um, can I set him down? He’s really heavy.”
“Oh shit, yeah. Sorry.” I let her in. “Here, I’ll take the other side.
” I loop Cam’s other arm around me, doing shit all to help her bring him inside.
I lead her to my bedroom. “Please ignore the mess,” I say as we walk in.
I never have people over, and yeah, I’m a bit messy, which isn’t usually a problem.
Seeing how put together she is has me nervous. “Cam’s messy,” I lie.
We drag and flop Cam onto my bed. “You smell like a bar.” I cover my nose. “How did he drink this much?”
She looks away sheepishly. “I uh, saw him walking home, and he looked like he was going through something. I invited him up, we hung out for a bit, and one drink turned into like eight for him. I stopped drinking and basically just let him drink through whatever he was going through. Is he okay? He seemed very upset.”
No, he is not okay. He is the biggest most beautiful dummy I’ve ever met, but looking down at him one thought comes to mind. It’s so clear.
Cam doesn’t want this.
He doesn’t, and I’ve been pushing him, allowing him to cross the boundaries his messed-up mind is trying to set between us. It shouldn’t be this hard. “He just had a breakup.”
“Oh,” she says. “How long?”
“Ah, it’s been a couple of months. She cheated on him.”
“What! How? Sorry, that’s—he’s very attractive. And sweet.” She laughs nervously. “A woman?”
“Um, yeah. He’s straight. I’m not.” What am I doing? “Not that you need to know that.”
“Don’t worry. Bisexual here.” She salutes me with a smile. “He’s just, I don’t know. So cute. Like a giant puppy dog.”
That he is alright. A big giant fucking pain in the ass puppy, who isn’t yet house trained and has accidents all over the place. You want to be mad, but then he hits you with those big eyes and you fucking melt. “He’s a good guy.”
“I feel bad about leaving you to deal with this when I caused it. I can help if you—”
“No,” I rush out. I need her gone. She’s too much, and if I’m right, Amira will soon be around a lot.
Cam doesn’t want me, and Amira is everything Cam looks for.
What’s worse is that I feel none of the bad feelings I do every time he finds someone.
She seems nice . . . amazing, actually. “Thank you, though. Not the first time, or the last I’m sure. ”
She’s quiet, and I look up to see her watching me. She blinks, looking away, and smiles softly. “Well, good night, Bo. Good luck.” That makes me laugh. “I’ll see myself out.”
I say goodnight and turn back to my snoring best friend. As if he senses me, he snorts then opens his eyes. “Bo?”
“Yeah.”
“I think . . . I’m gonna be—” He springs out of bed, stumbling to my bathroom.
Dammit. I go out into the living room for a wet cloth.
He does not get my good washcloths for this!
I head back through the bedroom and into my bathroom.
Cam is retching, and the sound makes my stomach turn.
I am not good with vomit, so I stand just outside and wait for him to finish. ”
When the noises slow I peek my head in. Cam’s resting his head on the toilet seat. “Coast clear?”
“I’m dying.”
What am I going to do with him? I walk inside and gently ease him onto the floor where he slumps on the bathmat. I close the toilet and flush it. He stinks. Vomit and rum singe my nose. “Cam, you stink. You need a shower.”
Lying on the floor, he’s half awake. I unbutton his jeans and slide them down, not lingering too long on his muscular hairy legs or the prominent bulge in his briefs. “Come on, Cam, help me out.” I attempt to lift his shirt off while standing over him. Dead weight.
“Hey.” I lightly slap his cheek. “Cam!”
His eyes blink open. “Bo?”
“I need help, Cam. Help me.” Cam groans, trying to roll. “Oh, you better not puke on my floor, Camden Rosa Almeida!” He turns his head with a loopy smile.
“Not my . . . Bo. Middle Bobo.”
I slap one of his ass cheeks. “Get up. Help me.” Groaning, he drags himself upright then lifts his arms. “Holy shit, Cam, how much did you drink? You better not puke on me!”
“No . . . promesas,” he says sleepily.
“Yes, promises, Cam! No puking.” I peel his shirt off him then reach for the shower, turning it on. Turning back to help him in, I freeze. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“You sled shower.” He stands there swaying, covering only his balls with his hand. His dick hanging over his fingers.
“I said get in the shower, not take your briefs off! Cover your dick. What are you doing?” Somebody help me. Anyone. Keeping my eyes above nipple height, I push him toward the shower. “Can you do this yourself?”
“You want to get in here?” He grins, collapsing back onto the shower wall.
“Cam, this has got to be the least sexiest thing that’s ever happened between us.
Get in and wash your ass.” I slam the shower door, watching to make sure he doesn’t slip and fall.
I don’t want to have to drag his naked ass out of there.
As if I could. I know Noah couldn’t if I had to call someone, and Jamie’s size is just for show. With my luck he’d throw his back out.
I busy myself cleaning up the mess he’s made, and then go out quickly to grab a pair of his sweats from the makeshift drawer he’s cleared for himself.
I go back in just as he’s shutting off the water.
Then I hand him the towel and help him out, keeping my eyes above sea level. “Can you dry yourself?”
The clarity in his eyes seems to have come back a bit, so I hand him his sweats then leave him to change. I don’t hear any crashes, so I think he’s regained a bit of his consciousness.
When he does come out of the shower my heart lurches into my throat. The ridges of his abs seem more prominent. His skin has this freshly showered softness to it, and because my eyeballs are mean, I trace the line of his happy trail. “Eyes up here, Bobo.”
He stumbles to my bed, falling on top of it, and I plug in his nightlight then shut the main one off.
“Here, drink this please.” I help him lift up a bit and watch him drink the glass of water.
He’s minutes from crashing out. “I’m going to sleep on the couch.
Please don’t puke in my bed.” I tuck him in, ready to put some space between us.
I stop, turning to watch him. “I want to try, I just don’t know how,” he whispers.
It sinks in now; I’m not sure why. This is the problem, right here. “We shouldn’t have to try, Cam. It should be easy.” I grip the doorknob . . . this is killing me. “You’re very drunk. Go to sleep.”
“I didn’t fuck her.”
Amira. “Good for you.”
“I just hooked up with that one guy,” he confesses, like I don’t already know. I don’t want to hear this. “It was awful.”
“Cam, I don’t want to talk about how you got blow-jobbed by someone else right now.”
“I had to think about you to finish.” Oh my fucking god.
He’s drunk. Just drunk. “Go to sleep, Cam.”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
“I’d rather you not.”
His eyes shut slowly. “I think . . .” He rolls onto his side, fisting the blankets around his body. He better not puke in my bed! I almost think he’s fallen asleep. “I've never felt like this. What's happening to me?”
I stand frozen for I’m not sure how long. I stand and watch him. Even when his breaths turn to chainsaw revving snores, I watch him. Finally I let go, leaving him to sleep and walking into the living room.
My eyes burn. I’m shaking.
This is not good; this is not right. While I should be happy, all I feel is dread because that should be a happy thing, only it’s not.
Not if it’s making him so confused. Not if it’s making him drink.
This is killing us both, and I need to put an end to it.
I love Cam more than anything, but I love his friendship more.
I can’t lose that, and this is slowly tearing us apart.
So I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths, then I grab my phone and text Noah.
Okay, I’m in. I want to meet Sawyer.