Chapter 20 #3

She lets me into the spacious loft, and it’s exactly how I’d picture her space.

The room explodes with colors and art. She brings two glasses of wine after filling them halfway, and we walk over to the couch.

I have never felt nerves like this in my life.

I feel like I’m back in high school, losing my virginity to my first girlfriend.

“Here.” She hits me with the full force of her white smile.

“Thanks.” I take a sip, hoping to ease the nerves inside me.

“So, dinner was fun.”

“Yeah.”

“That guy Noah set Bowen up with is super hot.” He was, fuck he was.

I don’t even know what Bo’s type really is.

Between me, Noah, and Sawyer, our looks are all over the place.

Noah is on the smaller side, and I’d say Sawyer is only a few inches shorter than me.

He isn’t as built, but I saw some muscle under his dress shirt. I’m a bit bulkier from lifting. “Cam?”

“Huh?”

Something flicks across her face. “I said that guy seemed nice. The one Bo was on the date with.”

“Oh uh, yeah, he um, yeah. He did.”

“Noah is something.” She laughs. “He and Jamie are adorable.”

I don’t know either very well, but yeah, they were cute. “I had a nice time tonight.”

She nods, setting her glass down on the table.

I follow her movements. “Me too.” She slides a bit closer.

Her knee brushes mine. “I really like you, Cam.” Her hand reaches out, grabbing mine, and I swallow hard, setting my wine glass down.

I feel like I’m about to pass the fuck out. “Come here, Cam.”

I let her lead me to her, and she looks at me a moment before pressing a kiss to my lips . . . and fuck, she does feel good. She tastes sweet and minty. Her jasmine scent fucks with my head. She’s beautiful and everything I’ve ever gone for.

Yet it just . . . feels all wrong.

I try and lose myself in the kiss, her soft lips and softer body pressed tight to mine. My fingers find her hair. The ebony strands are silky soft and they smell so good. Her curves press to me, and part of me wants to just lose myself.

Then there’s that other part. The part inside me that’s been slowly burning since Bo kissed me all those months ago. It’s no longer a controlled burn. It's a wildfire.

Here’s the thing. I love women. I still do.

Yet.

As her soft body presses to me, and her lips work along mine with delicious pressure and intention, one thought pulses like a neon sign in the back of my brain.

Bo’s kisses feel better.

Fuck.

Slowly she pulls back, confusion on her delicate face. “You’re not into this, are you?”

“Huh?”

She pulls away from me, putting space between us. “Can I ask you a question? And please give me the truth. If you can of course.” She leans forward, grabbing her wine and drinking a few sips. “Do you have feelings for Bo?”

Freezing with the wine to my lips, I nearly choke. “What?”

“You heard me, Cam.”

I set my glass down, running my fingers through my hair. My instinct is to deny it. It's crazy. Of course not. I don't. Though. . . I can’t seem to force myself to lie. “I don’t know,” I admit.

She fills the quiet between us. “Talk to me. You look like you need to work through something. I’m a great listener.

” She gets up and goes to the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of wine and filling her glass.

“I won’t tell a soul.” Then she fills my glass, draining the bottle.

“Don’t worry, more wine where that came from.

Although let’s not have a repeat of the other night; you’re very heavy.

” I laugh. She gets up, setting the empty bottle on the counter.

I take a few sips to ease my nerves. Bo has Noah, but I don’t have that. I need to talk to someone. I look at her and feel shame, which is stupid. It’s not shameful, but I’m not sure why this guilty feeling fills me.

I swallow as the truth sinks in.

“Everything’s a mess.”

“Tell me.” She’s smiles kindly at me.

I feel guilty because I know where my heart belongs, but I keep listening to my stupid brain that keeps telling me I can’t have him.

“A couple of months ago I um, moved into Bo’s.

It’s what I always do after a breakup. I run back to him because he comforts me, and he takes care of me.

” I take another sip. “Well, we um, hooked up a little bit after. For the first time. It’s been all fucked-upsville in my brain since then. ”

She smiles, laughing softly. “And what are you confused about?” She shrugs. “It seems like you know exactly what you want.”

See, this . . . people just don’t get it. “No one ever stays.” My parents didn’t want me, and I didn’t really have many friends in school. The girls I’ve been with . . . they’ve all left. “Everyone leaves me eventually.”

“Except Bo.”

“No, he won’t stay. Not if we break up. He’ll see it like everyone else does.

” The wine is really putting the work in as I admit, “I’m not who I look like.

I’m nerdy, I’m ridiculous and emotional.

I cry a lot—like an embarrassing amount.

I’m not that smart but I work hard and I do my best .

. . as best I can. He gets me in short bursts, ones I know he can handle .

. .” I swallow hard, the confession on my lips.

I’ve never said this part to anyone before.

“I don’t want him to get tired of me. I don’t want him to get sick of me.

And he will.” They always do. The clog of emotion is choking me.

“But you said it yourself. You guys stayed together after everything with your father.”

“We always get along best when I give him space. I’m annoying and childish.

" It's too much. Bowen is amazing and clever and so fucking talented, it’s sick he doesn’t realize it.

I’ve tried to find my person. Whenever I try and give them my full weight they leave.

I’m already starting to irritate the shit out of him and it’s only been months.

“You might be confused but Bo clearly—”

“Neither of my parents loved me. My father pretends now, sometimes, when his guilt gets too much and he runs low on money. My mother used me as a fucking shield. I was a buffer and a burden. If I got his anger, she didn’t.

The only person in my entire life who has loved me is Bo.

I can’t risk that. I can’t lose that. If I don’t have him, I don’t know—”

She takes another healthy swig from her glass. Not the evening she had planned, I’m sure.

“That’s a lot of burden to put on someone’s shoulders,” she says.

“I know, but you don’t understand, he—”

“I meant you, Cam. That’s a lot of pressure to put on yourself. Why do you think you’re so unloveable?”

“When the two people who were supposed to love me unconditionally didn’t? It’s a fact. I know I’m not. I’m just not.” She takes a sip of her wine, not looking at me. “What?”

“I think whatever fear you have is misplaced.”

I think for a moment, just wanting to go home now. “It’s not. He’s already pulling away. I always do this.” I stand. I need air. “Thank you for tonight. I’m really sorry. Super embarrassed, and also really sorry.”

It looks like she wants to argue, but then she sighs and stands up then walks me to the door. “One last piece of advice?”

I turn to her and drink her in. In all scenarios she’s literally my perfect girl. Smart, sweet, fucking gorgeous. Talented and thoughtful.

But my heart belongs to a boy with soft brown eyes that roll at me from behind glasses that magnify them and soft lips that laugh at all my dumb jokes. His mouth pinches before he does it, like he doesn’t want to give me the satisfaction of letting me hear him laugh.

I don’t know what to do about it. “What is it?”

“Stop dating other people when your heart clearly belongs to someone else.” She cups my face, leaning in for a soft kiss pressed gently against my lips. “Sincerely, women everywhere.”

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