4. Cam
CAM
“Wait, really?” Levi said. “Who is she?”
He stared at me in shock. I couldn’t blame him. It was a one-eighty from what I’d said last night.
It was also a complete lie.
But it was the only thing I could think of to get him off my back for a moment, to let me breathe. And I really, really needed to catch my breath, because…
Because…Jordan.
I hadn’t seen Jordan in years, and whoa.
He’d been eighteen the last time I saw him, so technically not a kid, but the version of him I remembered was. Messy dark hair, braces, full-throttle kinetic energy.
This Jordy was…not that.
His dark hair was still a mess, but it was an artful one, just brushing angular brows that slanted above lively brown eyes. His long, straight nose, sharp cheekbones, and pointed chin gave him an almost elfin appearance.
To anyone else, he would have been tall, but he was still a good six inches shorter than I was. His long, lean limbs added to that otherworldly grace. So did his quicksilver smile, appearing and disappearing like a wild animal.
He was, frankly, beautiful, which made me feel creepy as hell. Jordy was Levi’s little brother, and even though he’d be—what, twenty-four?—now, it still felt wrong. I didn’t even want to think about how Levi, overprotective to an extreme, would react if I ever told him I was interested.
Hey, buddy. Turns out, I’m not only gay, I also popped a boner staring at your little brother just now.
Yeah, not happening.
But what also needed to not happen was Levi talking any more about my pathetic dating life.
I might not have had a chance in hell with Jordy—Levi’s protectiveness aside, the thought that he would want someone like me was laughable—but that didn’t mean he needed to know just how desperate my situation was.
So what was the harm in a little white lie?
If I told Levi I had my eye on someone, it would shut him up.
Sure, it meant he’d expect me to bring someone to the dance tomorrow, but I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.
Probably by avoiding the dance altogether, saying the person I’d asked had turned me down.
That would, at the very least, be believable.
“I’d rather not say until I’ve asked,” I told him. “Just in case—well, you know.”
“So bashful.” Levi put his hands on my cheeks, then turned to look at Jordy. “Who could say no to this face?” He smushed my cheeks together. “Adorable, right?”
“Um…yeah?” Jordy sounded like he’d rather drink battery acid than answer. “I mean, if you’re into that sort of thing.”
Now I wanted to drink battery acid. If there were any doubt about Jordy’s lack of interest in me, that cleared it up.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, chanted the little voice in the back of my mind.
He’s been living in New York for six years.
Even if he did want someone who looked like a bloated, albino musk ox, he wouldn’t pick a small-town loser still living on the island where he was born. A small-town, awkward, virgin loser.
“Fine.” Levi squeezed my shoulders like a coach giving a pep talk. “I won’t pump you for info just yet. Now get out there and ask her, champ. You’ve got this.”
With a final squeeze, he walked out the front door, leaving Jordy and me alone again. Jordy was giving me the weirdest look, and a bolt of fear flashed through me. What if Jordy was the one who realized I’d gotten hard when I first saw him? That would be even worse than Levi finding out.
God, could this interaction have gone any worse? Jordy obviously hadn’t remembered me, and thought it was weird I’d remembered him. He’d tried to cover it up, but the way he’d stammered when he introduced himself made it clear I hadn’t stuck in his mind at all.
He’ll have no trouble remembering you now, whispered that voice. But you could always offer to suck him off, or declare your undying love and affection, if you really wanted to stick the landing.
So much for not thinking it was possible to feel awkward around Levi’s little brother.
“Sorry,” Jordy said after a moment. “Levi means well, but he can be kind of a lot.”
I flushed. “Is he trying to mastermind your dating life too?”
“Just my job, and my living situation, and everything else,” Jordy snorted. “But not my dating life. I guess I should be grateful for small mercies.”
“Oh, right.” I nodded. “He mentioned you were getting over a breakup.”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wished I could take them back. Jordy’s face fell, and I remembered what else Levi had said: Jordy’s ex had cheated on him. And now I’d gone and reminded him of it.
“He said that?” Jordy asked, his voice strangled.
“I mean, not—not that we talked about you, or anything,” I said quickly. “He just mentioned it in passing.”
“Well, it’s not a big deal.” Jordy shrugged. “That relationship was never going to last.”
Something dark and pained passed through his eyes, and I wanted to ask about it. Wanted to tell him he deserved so much better, and that if Levi didn’t go back to New York and beat up his ex, I would, despite the fact that I’d never been in a fight and would probably make a fool of myself.
But of course I couldn’t say any of that. I barely knew Jordy. Not really. Not as an adult.
“Anyway,” he continued, a bite in his voice, “I’m sure you have better things to do than talk about my breakup.”
“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to—”
“You have a date of your own to arrange, after all. I wouldn’t want to keep you from that.”
That was a dismissal if I’d ever heard one.
“Yeah. I’ll uh—I’ll go do that.” I wanted to say more, but it would only make things worse. “See you around, Jordy.”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice flat. “Maybe.”
The fact of the matter was that I did have a date to arrange when I got back home. Just not with a woman. Or for the dance. Or anything remotely that respectable.
No, my date would be somewhere much seedier, doing something much less savory, with someone who would probably tell me I was a lousy lay, and that he never wanted to see me again. And that was if it went well.
My stomach twisted as I opened the app I’d downloaded last night, GayBae. I’d made the barest-bones profile of all time. Called myself Quincy, with apologies to my squirrel friend, and uploaded a picture of my dick and the line, looking to hook up.
I felt gross doing it, and felt even sleazier now, logging back in as my thoughts returned to Jordan.
Which didn’t make any sense. I didn’t owe him anything, nor he, me.
If anything, he’d probably support me doing this.
The sooner I got some experience with guys, the sooner I’d stop having inappropriate feelings for him, presumably.
Maybe it was just that my profile felt like such a front.
There was a definite stereotype about the kind of person who posted a faceless dick pic, and I wasn’t that guy at all.
But what was I supposed to do instead? Put my actual face out there, and a fifty-thousand-word novel about my emotional damage and virginity?
I might not have any dating experience, but I knew that would scare away all but the biggest weirdos, and I was more than enough of a weirdo on my own.
I scrolled through the profiles of guys near me. Most of them were actually over on the mainland, which wasn’t surprising. Summersea wasn’t that big an island. But it looked like Deacon was right about the whole closeted dads on family vacation thing.
Somehow, though, I didn’t feel quite right about my first hookup being one where my partner was cheating on his spouse. I swiped past profile after profile of married man seeking discreet encounter, and was about ready to give up in frustration when someone new popped up on my screen: Miller.
And for the second time today, all I could think was whoa.
Miller didn’t say how old he was, but I didn’t get the sense he was the married-with-kids type.
The sense that I did get was that he was hot.
Looking at his pictures, every cell in my body sang a hallelujah chorus, and my cock, which had finally calmed down after seeing Jordy, woke right back up again.
Miller’s profile wasn’t a terse, one-sentence description, either. I was torn between shock and laughter as I read it. This guy couldn’t be real, could he? This had to be some sort of joke.
Except, if he was real, I felt a sort of kinship with him.
Maybe it was the fact that he called himself desperate.
I might not have said it in so many words, but wasn’t I looking for the same thing?
And on a more practical level, if I wasn’t willing to message him, who would I ever be willing to message?
There weren’t that many other options on the island.
With a deep breath, I hit the Message button below Miller’s profile and began typing.
Hey, would you maybe want to meet up? I don’t have strong opinions about anime or an unsettlingly large collection of knives, but I’m definitely a bad conversationalist, and I can look up the positions of the major arteries if that would help.
More importantly, I do just want to hook up.
Kind of feel like I’m applying for a job here, so I guess this is where I say please see my CV, by which I mean the picture of my cock, and if you think I might be qualified for the position, I look forward to hearing from you at your earliest convenience.
I hit send without even checking it over for typos. If I had, I would have just talked myself out of sending anything at all. I’d just finished sliding my phone back into my pocket when it buzzed.
MILLER: Consider me intrigued. Your CV is of an impressive length, and speaks to both the breadth and depth of your experience. Also, you don’t seem to be that bad a conversationalist, for what it’s worth
My breath sped up. I’d thought I would have hours, possibly days, before I had to respond again. But I couldn’t just not reply now. Miller knew I was online.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was exactly the reason I’d downloaded the app. Exactly what was supposed to happen. So why did I feel like I was about to pass out?