Chapter 21
@cammygirl is it just me or has he been looking particularly angry lately? He looks pissed.
@camobsessed I wouldn’t say he looks angry, but he looks like a dark cloud for sure. I mean, he looks even hotter when he scowls like this, but it’s starting to make me wonder. I don’t think I’ve seen him crack a smile a single time in the past few weekends.
The urge to call Cam and ask him whether he was okay was nearly irresistible. A month ago, he wouldn’t have even stopped to think about it. Hell, a month ago he would have been there on track, taking Cam into his arms and letting him vent his frustrations after a hard race.
But these days their relationship was barely there.
And whose fault is that? said a snide voice at the back of his head.
Scott pursed his lips tightly. Cam had tried to make a long-distance friendship work at first, texting him randomly as usual, but the messages had petered off as Scott’s replies came slower and slower until Scott started leaving him on read most of the time.
Scott knew Cam deserved better than that—the situation wasn’t really his fault—but he just couldn’t bear to have a pale imitation of their former relationship, couldn’t bear to pretend that he was content with texts and rare phone calls, content with being discarded to the outer edges of Cam’s life just because he was inconvenient.
A clean break would be smarter. So Scott had done it, ignoring the way his stomach had knotted up every time he ignored Cam’s attempts to keep their friendship alive.
God, he missed the constant texts. The phone calls. The way Cam sounded vaguely exasperated whenever Scott called him several times a day and yet somehow always picked up. He missed sending him stupid memes. Missed hearing his dry laugh. Missed being part of his life.
And now he didn’t know whether he should reach out. Doing so would undo all the effort he’d made to distance himself from Cam. But...
Scott’s fingers touched the picture of Cam’s face during his altercation with Hunter: the pure rage on his face was impossible to miss.
It didn’t seem like his Cam at all. Cam could be intense and snappish and bossy, but he wasn’t a hothead like Hunter Elcman.
He didn’t blow up, no matter how much people angered him.
Cam’s self-control was one of the most attractive things about him.
He always kept his cool under pressure. This wasn’t him.
Scott chewed on his lip, tracing the lines of Cam’s tense face with his fingertip. Everything in him wanted to call him, to make sure he was okay, to hear the sound of his low voice, to wrap his arms around him and calm him down.
Christ.
He’d been waiting for the intensity of his feelings to fade with distance and time—for once Scott’s fickleness should’ve helped him with that—except it wasn’t working.
The longer he went without seeing Cam, the shittier he felt.
His mood had absolutely plummeted, he had zero desire to go out with his friends.
He felt… crushed. Everything seemed so pointless.
Scott kept telling himself he’d simply grown accustomed to the excitement and chaos of Formula One race weekends, but deep down he knew it was bullshit.
His life had never lacked excitement. He was outgoing, surrounded by dozens of friends and men vying for his time and attention, and he had a demanding job he genuinely enjoyed.
His days were full in every sense of the word.
Then why did he feel so empty?
Pursing his lips, Scott set his phone down and went back to work.
He was Scott Palmer, the fickle guy who was incapable of any lasting feelings—just ask anyone who knew him.
This shit would pass.
It had to.
***
“All right, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
Scott lifted his gaze from the document in front of him and looked at Will blankly. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m fine.”
Will crossed his arms over his chest and gave him a flat look. “I’m talking about the fact that you’ve turned into a workaholic. And the fact that you’ve been in New York for ages instead of going back to Europe.”
“I can do most of the work remotely,” Scott said, returning his gaze to the document. The numbers blurred in front of him, but he fixed his gaze on them stubbornly.
“Your buddies have been texting me asking if there was something going on. You stopped going out.”
Scott shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it.”
Will heaved a sigh. “Scott.”
“I said I’m fine!” Scott snapped.
His uncharacteristic outburst left the room ringing with silence.
“It’s about Cameron Richter, isn’t it?” Will said after a moment, his voice careful.
Scott struggled to keep his expression blank. The mere mention of Cam’s name made his insides ache, like someone had prodded curiously at an ugly, jagged wound in his chest. “No,” he said curtly.
“You stopped going to the races.”
“Don’t you have your own life instead of stalking mine?” Scott snapped again.
Will’s eyebrows drew together. “I’m just worried for you. Someone has to be.”
Scott’s throat grew uncomfortably tight. “Thanks for the concern, but I’m really fine,” he said hoarsely. “Yes, I haven’t been going out much lately, but it’s not like you’re any better.”
Will’s expression turned pinched. “You’re not me. You’re not introverted. You actually love going out and being around people.”
Did he? These days, even the thought of going out with his friends and putting on the sociable Scott Palmer mask exhausted him. Which was why he’d been declining every invitation to this party or that party. Maybe he was finally getting too old for that shit.
“I’ve been busy,” Scott said curtly.
“I know,” Will said. “Your dad has been over the moon that you’re taking your responsibilities this seriously.”
Scott snorted. “Glad I’m finally doing something to please him.”
“Scotty.”
Scott flinched. “Don’t call me that. I hate nicknames.”
“Since when?”
“Since now.”
Silence fell, strained and full of uncomfortable questions Scott had no desire to answer.
“Did you two break up?”
Scott’s stomach turned to lead. He stared at the document in front of him without really seeing it.
“If you mean Cam, we were never together,” he said flatly. “He’s straight. He was just fooling around out of boredom and convenience. So was I. We were never anything.”
“Right,” Will said, his voice practically dripping with sarcasm. “You just happened to be ridiculously in love with him.”
Scott’s chest tightened all of a sudden.
He’d never allowed himself to think of Cam and love in the same sentence.
Cam had made it clear he didn’t want Scott’s love—that they were just friends.
But Scott had told Cam he loved him several times, always casually, the way friends did, and each time he’d felt a small, guilty thrill bloom in his chest, as though he were getting away with something. Like a starving bird stealing crumbs.
God.
Was he in love with Cam after all? It would explain why he couldn’t seem to move on.
“I wasn’t,” Scott said weakly. “I wasn’t in love with him.”
Will sighed. “I’m not going to try to convince you otherwise. You know your feelings better than me. But honestly? I’ve never seen you so gone on any of your boyfriends you claimed to be in love with.”
Scott dragged a hand over his face and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“What the hell do you want me to say?” he bit off.
“That I’m stupidly in love with him? What’s the point of admitting it?
I never meant as much to him as he meant to me.
” He hated how bitter he sounded. This wasn’t him.
He’d always prided himself on being a positive, optimistic guy who didn’t mope around.
Who didn’t obsessively reread old texts.
Who remembered what it felt like to want sex with other people.
“Scott…”
“Just drop it,” Scott gritted out. “I don’t want to talk about him. I’m trying to move on here, and you forcing me to talk about my feelings isn’t exactly helpful.”
Will’s eyebrows drew together. “You never had a problem talking about your feelings before. Sometimes I couldn’t make you shut up about them.”
Scott smiled crookedly. “Well, that was before. Talking about my feelings is the last thing I want right now.” He met his cousin’s eyes. “Please, Will. Just drop it. Please.”
Will’s expression softened. “All right,” he said. “But I’m not going to let you turn into a depressed homebody who buries himself in work and never leaves the house.”
“God, you’re such an overbearing ass,” Scott said with an eye roll. “Will you leave me alone if I promise to go out tonight?”
The look Will shot him was insultingly skeptical. “Only if you actually mean it.”
Scott rolled his eyes again. “As it happens, I was invited to a movie premiere tonight. I wasn’t going to go, but I will if it gets you off my back.” He shrugged. “Might even get laid while I’m at it.”
Will smiled, relief flashing across his features. “That’s the Scott I know.”
Scott smiled back thinly and returned his gaze to the document. “Now shoo. I’m trying to work here.”
Once the door closed after Will, Scott’s smile faded. God, he really didn’t want to go out. Or get laid. The mere thought made him vaguely nauseated. But he would have to, if he wanted to convince Will that he was fine.
Because he was.
He was.