Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Cameron
Raquel wasn’t even halfway through her story about a disastrous first date involving a trombone player and I was already snorting coffee out of my nose.
“Please, stop,” I begged. My sides ached.
She grinned. “Uh-uh. One, I need to get to the punchline—and believe me, there is one—and two, I haven’t achieved my goal until you’re rolling around on the floor.” My phone gave a long buzz, and she glanced at it.
I ignored it. “That’s a WhatsApp message. It’ll be from someone in the group chat. They’ve got a rehearsal tonight.”
Probably Julian with one of his snarky comments. It could wait.
“Group?” She frowned. Then her forehead cleared. “Oh, your little boy band.”
I rolled my eyes. “A capella group, if you don’t mind. And they aren’t my band—they’re Max and Theo’s.” I picked up my coffee, then eyed her warily. “Maybe I should finish this once you’ve finished your story.”
Raquel chuckled. “Oh, trust me, sweetheart, that’s a good move.
” Another WhatsApp notification. Then another.
She arched her eyebrows. “Someone’s popular this evening.
” She flashed me a sweet smile. “Go ahead, read your messages. My tale will keep. Besides…” Her eyes gleamed.
“There’s only so much more of it that I can relate in public. ”
I unlocked the screen, and my WhatsApp page exploded.
Julian: OKAY BUT WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME THE ART WAS
Finnley: Julian, maybe don’t open with that?
Oliver: Cam, why didn’t Theo know this was live?
My stomach tightened. Art? Live?
I tapped into the chat.
Julian: I’m just saying—if you’re going to paint your boyfriend naked, at least warn the rest of us before the COLLEGE POSTS IT ONLINE.
I froze. Aw fuck, no.
“Cam?”
I scrolled, and there it was, a link.
College of Arts — Spring Exhibition Preview. Featuring selected works from graduating artists…
And beneath it—
A thumbnail. Muted colours. Soft light. A familiar line of shoulder and throat.
My breath escaped in a long push. “Oh my God.”
Raquel leaned across the table. “What?”
I couldn’t answer. I tapped the link, my fingers trembling, and the page loaded slowly. Then the image resolved. It was cropped, thank God, but intimate in a way no crop could fully disguise. Theo’s posture, his expression, the way he looked unguarded and present and utterly himself.
My chest ached.
Finnley: Cam, we kinda blindsided him when he walked into rehearsal.
My heart stuttered.
Theo’s seen it. And I hadn’t given him any kind of heads up, because no one had fucking told me this was going online.
Raquel’s voice sharpened. “Cameron. Talk to me.”
I locked the phone, placed it face down on the table, and leaned against the wall, my head pounding.
“The paintings I showed you earlier on my phone? Of Theo?”
She nodded.
“Well, the exhibition preview went live—online—and they used my piece.”
Raquel’s eyes widened. “Already? And which piece?” Her mouth fell open. “Shit. The nude?” When I nodded, she frowned. “Okay, what am I not seeing here? All publicity is good publicity, right?”
“Theo didn’t know it was going to be online,” I said quietly. “For that matter, neither did I.”
Her expression shifted immediately to concern. “Oh. Shit.”
“He trusted me. And I didn’t think—I mean, I’d heard something about previews, but I didn’t expect them to post anything so soon.” They really worked fast, didn’t they?
Raquel reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “Hey. Breathe.”
That was a little difficult right then.
“What’s he like with stuff like this?” she asked.
I didn’t hesitate. “Control is how he survives.”
Raquel swore softly. “Then you need to go to him. Now.”
“I know.” I stood, fumbling for my jacket. “I need to see his face. I need to know how he’s coping.”
Raquel grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “Do you want me to come with you?”
I shook my head. “No. This is… this is ours.”
She reached for her bag. “Text me when you get there. And Cameron?”
I glanced at her as I squirmed into the jacket.
“You didn’t do anything wrong by making art,” she said in a firm voice. “But timing matters. So go. Be gentle.”
I forced a smile. “Always.”
Outside, the night air hit me cold and sharp. My phone vibrated again, but this time it was Max.
He’s holding it together. Barely.
My chest constricted. I didn’t send a reply.
I headed to Dean Street and hailed the first black cab I saw with its light on, my heart hammering, my mind racing, not with excuses or defence, but with one clear thought, rising above the noise.
I need to be there.
Not to explain or try to fix this, but simply to be there for him.
When the taxi pulled up outside the house, I glanced up at the window and saw light.
He’s home, then.
I hurried up the stairs. When I opened the door and stepped inside, Theo was sitting on the couch, the room lit by a single lamp.
He looked up immediately as though he’d been listening for the sound of keys.
His laptop sat on the seat cushion beside him along with his phone, and to my surprise, there was my painting on the screen.
He looks composed.
That scared me more.
“Hey.” I closed the door behind me.
Theo gave a nod. “Hey.”
I removed my jacket slowly, carefully, as if sudden movement might shatter something. “I saw the chat. I’m so sorry I didn’t warn you, but I genuinely didn’t realise they’d—”
“I know,” Theo said quickly. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” He folded his hands together in his lap, his fingers interlacing with precision.
And there’s Theo’s control.
My chest was still tight. “Theo.”
Theo finally looked at me, but there was no evidence of anger or accusation. “They’ve seen it. The group. I mean. Not all of it. But enough.”
I swallowed. “I figured. I got a ton of messages.”
“Saying what? I mean, they were really supportive to my face, but—”
“They didn’t laugh,” I blurted. “If anything, they were protective. A little in awe, maybe.”
Theo huffed out a humourless breath. “Julian told me it was ‘terrifying.’”
I almost smiled at that. I walked over to him and stopped a few feet away, close enough to feel the tension humming between us.
“How are you really?”
Theo hesitated before speaking. “I feel as if I walked into a room and realised everyone already knows something about me that I’m still trying to understand myself. And part of me wants to lock every door I own.”
I swallowed. “And the other part?”
Theo’s mouth curved into a faint smile. “The other part is… proud. Which feels dangerous.”
I exhaled. “It’s not dangerous to be seen.”
Theo’s gaze met mine. “It is when you’ve built your life on not being.”
The words had weight.
I took another step forward, my throat tight.
Theo looked up at me. “I don’t regret it, you know. That’s the strange part. I’m shaken, yes. But I don’t regret letting you see me like that, paint me. And I don’t regret telling you to submit it.”
I searched his face. “Then what are you afraid of?”
He didn’t answer right away but examined his hands. Finally, he returned his gaze to me. “That now there’s proof. What we have isn’t theoretical anymore. It’s visible.”
I caught my breath. “We were always real.”
“I know. But now other people know too.”
I knelt in front of him, looking him in the eye.
“The portrait doesn’t take anything from you. It doesn’t define you. It just says you trusted someone enough to be honest.”
Theo’s eyes shone, but he didn’t look away.
“I’m not angry.” He gestured to the laptop. “I just needed to sit with it before I spoke to you. Before I let my instinct to control take over.”
Relief and admiration swamped me. “Thank you for not shutting me out.”
Theo expelled a breath. “I thought about it.” He gave a rueful smile that I had to return.
“Of course you did.”
Then Theo cocked his head to one side. “I also thought about how it felt to be the subject of your work.”
“And?”
His voice dropped. “It was like being held, even when I wasn’t in the room.”
I reached out, brushing my thumb over Theo’s knuckles. “That’s exactly how I meant it.”
His fingers curled around mine, and he let out a breath. “You know what? Being seen didn’t break me.”
Relief flooded through me in a slow tide, and I didn’t hesitate. I took him in my arms and held him.
Theo sought my lips and we kissed, unhurried, tender, a connection without words.
“Can we do this in bed?” he asked.
I smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Theo
It was strange how quickly the noise faded once the lights were low.
I lay on my side, Cameron warm and solid against me, the steady rise and fall of his chest a rhythm I could finally match. The world had been pushed gently but firmly to beyond the bedroom door.
For once, I wasn’t braced.
More often than not, my mind was a crowded room of contingencies and corrections, but now it felt still, not empty but settled, like a piece of music resolving into a chord I hadn’t known I’d been reaching for.
Being seen didn’t break me.
That thought echoed again, less like a revelation and more like a truth I could carry.
I’d spent so long believing that exposure was damage, that letting someone see me fully—body, heart, fear and all—would cost me something I couldn’t afford to lose. Control. Dignity.
Myself.
But Cameron hadn’t taken anything.
I shifted slightly, careful not to wake him, and let my fingers rest against Cameron’s wrist, feeling the pulse there, proof of his presence.
Proof this was real.
Whatever tomorrow might bring, I knew one thing for certain.
I wasn’t alone in it, and for the first time in my adult life, that didn’t feel like a risk.
I closed my eyes, Cameron’s warmth anchoring me, and let myself believe, if only for one night, that everything was going to be all right.