Atticus
CHECKERS IS A SMALL, locally owned diner in Port Orford. The food is decent, and the people are nice, but I still hardly frequent it. Why would I, when I have a private chef at home?
Why is he late? Nothing is more irritating than a disruption in my carefully planned schedule, and I intentionally moved my previous plans around just for him.
Rude. Inconsiderate.
Suddenly, all of my irritation is gone.
“It’s alright,” I tell him, though it normally wouldn’t be. “How was your workout?”
Cameron flushes, coming to a stop in front of me. “Oh, it was fine. Thanks.”
I know he has to be thinking about my comment, about working him out myself, and that makes a small smile quirk my lips.
“Atticus!” It’s not Cameron this time but a much lighter, softer voice.
Cassie appears from behind Cameron, her long brown hair braided down her back, and her bright blue eyes peering up at me.
She… kind of reminds me of Atlas. Which, of course, means that even if Cameron wasn’t taking up most of my thoughts, she would never stand a chance. I could literally never have sex with her.
“Hello, Cassie,” I reply, greeting her casually.
“This is so cool! I’ve been dying to hang out again,” she says excitedly, grinning from ear to ear.
Cameron shifts awkwardly.
“Yeah,” he interjects. “Let’s go inside.”
I open the door and allow the two of them to walk in, noticing how Cassie is clinging to the back of Cameron’s sweater.
We find a booth located in the center of the diner, Cassie sliding in beside Cameron as I take up the opposite side.
“So, what have you been up to?” she asks me, resting her chin in her palms with her elbows propped on the white table.
“Just school work,” I tell her.
“School work?” Cameron questions, tilting his head to the side. “I thought you were our age.”
“Yes,” I draw slowly. “But university is a thing.”
His gaze falls away as he mutters a quiet “Oh.”
“What are you studying?” Cassie pushes, leaning forward.
“Business. One day I’ll take over my father’s company, and I need to be ready.”
“How exciting!” she exclaims.
Cameron releases an unsteady breath, fiddling with his own fingers. I watch him curiously. What’s with the attitude shift?
“What about you guys?” I ask, pretending to care about both of them while looking back and forth.
“Oh, I’m not going to school. My dad already gave me a position as a receptionist at his orthodontist office,” Cassie answers casually, waving a dismissive hand.
“That’s… nice,” I reply. “And you?” My eyes return to Cameron, and he shrugs.
“I’m not going to school,” he says. “I’ll probably stick to working for my uncle.”
“At the auto shop?” I clarify, and Cameron shrinks in on himself.
“Yeah. The auto shop,” he confirms.
What the hell is happening? Does he not want me here after all? I thought he wanted to understand me so that I could keep my hands on him.
A waitress comes by before I can speak, and she takes our order before wandering off again.
“Well, I’m just excited you’re not leaving Port Orford the way Kyle did,” Cassie tells Cameron, and as she looks back at me and undoubtedly sees my confused expression, she explains. “Kyle was one of Cam’s friends in high school. His closest friend outside of me.”
She says it jokingly, nudging Cameron’s shoulder.
“Kyle,” I repeat, hating the taste of his name in my mouth.
Did they ever… I know Cameron hasn’t done much, but what if they kissed? Felt each other up in the locker rooms of that crappy little high school?
Cameron’s eyes finally lift to meet mine, and whatever he reads there makes him smile. Finally.
“Yeah, he was on the volleyball team with you, right?” Cassie presses, staring at Cameron.
“Yeah. He was our Ace,” Cameron tells me.
“That means he was the best on the team,” Cassie explains.
“Ah,” I mutter. “Fantastic.”
As our drinks are delivered, Cameron is still grinning.
I’m taking a drink of my Shirley Temple as Cassie talks, babbling about the community center and how Cameron should try out for the recreational basketball team. And then she says something very interesting.
“I just feel like it would help you, Cam,” she offers. “It would give you an outlet, somewhere to go after work.”
Cameron freezes, his hand trembling around his shake. His stormy eyes dart up to mine before dropping quickly, a blush sprinkling over his cheeks.
“Let’s talk about this later,” he tells Cassie.
Somewhere to go? Why can’t he go home? What does he need an outlet for? I’m starting to realize that there is a lot more to this Cameron guy than I first thought.
I want to uncover it all. I hate that someone else knows him better than I do. Though I’m absolutely certain that Cassie doesn’t know what it feels like to be knuckle deep in his ass, so that’s a win for me.
And then Cassie says something that makes me like her, despite her proximity to Cameron.
She says, “Fine. But remember that your mental health is important too, not just your body. I just want you to be happy.”
Cameron flushes further, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, but I give Cassie a smile.
She grins back, straightening in her seat like she’s won something.
We stay like this for a while, trading facts about ourselves and sipping away at our drinks. Checkers is mostly empty at this hour, but the waitress doesn’t complain, only wiping random tables and lounging by the drink station.
“So, do you have a girlfriend, Atticus?” Cassie suddenly asks, a sharp change in direction compared to “What is your favorite color?” from moments ago.
Cameron’s is green, by the way.
He looks at me now, expression blank, but his eyes are wide and reveal his every thought. He’s curious, nervous, and completely zeroed in on my answer.
I turn my attention back to Cassie and shrug. “Kind of.”
Cameron flinches. Cassie startles.
“Oh. Kind of? As in, you’re just talking?” she pushes.
“Talking, yes,” I agree. “And touching. And pining and longing and constantly daydreaming.”
I crack a smile, attempting to lighten the sudden dullness in our atmosphere with my gushy tangent. But Cassie just stares at me, slightly disappointed, and Cameron doesn’t react at all.
After a few uncomfortable moments of silence, Cassie tacks on, “Well, what kind of girl is she?”
“Hmm,” I ponder. “Kind of flighty, if I’m honest. But very cute, and perfectly submissive.”
I throw the last part in just to embarrass Cameron, but he only shrinks further into himself than he did earlier, gripping his milkshake as if it might vanish before his very eyes.
Does he not like me outing us like this? I thought the whole point of this get-together was that we could start to solidify a relationship, not just fool around in the dark?
Maybe this won’t be an epic love story after all. The thought makes me unreasonably upset.
“Submissive?” Cassie repeats in question. “That’s what you like?”
“You could say that,” I confirm. “I’m a very… particular person. I like a very specific personality type.”
I don’t outwardly say that I’m a control freak who gets off on dictating someone else’s everyday life choices—that might freak out the poor girl, and I’m starting to enjoy her company.
“No shame in that,” Cassie jokes, a smile returning to her lips. “Everyone has a type. Me? I like dominant men.”
I stare back at her, smiling. I guess I’m not the only one with specific interests. That feels kind of nice.
“What about you, Cam?” she asks. “What is your dream girl like?”
Cameron’s eyes flicker up from the table and meet hers, his mouth opening and closing several times as we wait.
Finally, he says, “I think I’m done for the night. Ready to head out?”
Cassie falters for a moment, reading his expression with narrowed eyes. Whatever she sees there seems to cue her in on something I’m unable to comprehend, because she returns to smiling, waving at the waitress.
“Separate checks?” the waitress asks, appearing from thin air.
“We’ll be on the same one,” Cassie replies, beaming at the woman as she gestures between the two of them.
The fuck? They’re acting as if they’re on a date.
Unacceptable.
“One check,” I interrupt calmly, already pulling my wallet out to hand her my card.
The waitress lingers a moment before giving us a nod and taking my card to the back to run it.
“Wow, thanks, Atticus!” Cassie gushes. “I never thought I’d be treated to a drink by a Chastain.”
There’s a light joking tone to her comment, but no one laughs. Cameron is staring at his empty glass as if he can’t wait to run from this building like it’s on fire.
Once my card is returned and I’ve put a tip on the receipt, we leave Checkers. It’s dark and drizzling outside, so Cassie makes quick work of grabbing Cameron’s arm and giving me their goodbyes. Cameron nods once in my direction, never quite meeting my eyes.
Unacceptable.
“Cameron,” I call out as they begin to walk down the sidewalk toward the car they drove here in. He freezes, and Cassie looks over her shoulder at me. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”
She looks between the two of us before she smiles, letting go of his arm. “I’ll meet you at the car, Cam.”
Then she’s walking away, and I wait for her to be out of earshot before I approach Cameron, staring at the back of his head in irritation.
“What’s up?” he murmurs, hands tucked into the pocket of his hoodie. His blond hair is darkening in the subtle rain, a few droplets trailing down the back of his neck.
I want to lick them off, to taste his skin.
“What’s wrong? You’re most definitely not acting like you want to hang out with me.” I sound a bit defensive, if not pathetic, but I don’t care.
It’s true, and I’m irritated.
“Let’s talk another time, yeah?” Cameron asks, taking a step forward.
My hand shoots out, gripping his bicep and spinning him until he’s facing me. Startled, large gray eyes stare up at me. He’s flushed.
“Answer me,” I demand.
“Who is it?’ he blurts nearly at the same time.
“Who is who?” I ask, my brows furrowing as I take in the raindrops settling on his thick lashes.
“Your girlfriend. Who is it?” There’s a slight anger in his voice, his hands falling from his pocket to tremble at his sides.
Cameron looks like an angry puppy, barely holding himself back. And it’s so amusing—this whole situation is, truly—that I can’t help but grin at him.
His eyes narrow.
“Never mind,” he mumbles, attempting to pull away from my grasp.
I hold him tighter, pulling him into my space.
“I don’t have a girlfriend, Cameron,” I tell him, watching the surprise shape his features. “I was alluding to you. To how you run at the drop of a hat yet obey me so prettily when I get my hands on you.”
Now, Cameron flushes fully; his entire face goes pink, and his lips part. I want to kiss them, to lick into his mouth and taste the shock he’s experiencing. But I’m uncertain where Cassie could be, and he clearly has some issues with openly being attracted to a man.
“M-me?” he stutters. “You meant…”
“Yes,” I confirm.
He stares at me for a moment before he quotes, “Touching. And pining and longing and constantly daydreaming.”
Cameron says it so breathily, so awed, that I feel my heart tighten in my chest. Like he can’t believe I’d say that about him, like he isn’t worthy of it, yet he loves it all the same.
“A lot of daydreaming. Mostly about how you taste when you’re crying for me,” I admit.
“Atticus!” he screeches, quickly looking around us. But as his gaze returns to mine, he’s smiling shyly. “I thought you meant… Like…”
“I see that now,” I interject, saving him from the embarrassment of saying it aloud. “But you were wrong. I just figured you didn’t want anyone to know. About us, I mean.”
“Thank you,” he whispers. “That’s—yeah, I’m still figuring myself out.”
Cameron’s eyes slip from mine and land on my lips, watching them with want and curiosity, as if he’s making it clear exactly what he’s figuring out.
“I can help with that,” I offer. “I could show you exactly what it feels like to give in, to experiment.”
He nods, fast and insistent. “Yes. Okay. Sure.”
I grin once more, my cheeks aching with it. “Just tell me when. This time, you call me. Let me show you what it feels like to surrender, sweetheart.”
“Alright,” Cameron breathes out, his arm trembling in my grasp. Then, he clears his throat, straightening his spine and shaking his head as if to clear it. “I should go. Cassie is waiting.”
“Sure,” I concede. “I’ll speak with you soon.”
Cameron nods again, slowly backing away until it’s unsafe to do so, before he turns and heads down the street.
I watch him until I can no longer see his silhouette, already counting down the days until my phone rings and his name appears.