Chapter 15
Rafe
Head over heels?
As soon as I’m out of sight, I break into a run. My mouth is dry, and my chest is thrumming an irregular rhythm. Tingles are zapping up and down my arms, and I wonder for one wild moment whether this is a heart attack.
If it is … it feels amazing.
My feet hit the footpath in time with the heavy beat echoing in my ears, making me all squirmy and off-center and alive.
Head over heels.
Head over fucking heels.
Was the response just Cam being Cam? His brand of playful banter that I can never tell whether to take seriously or not?
And how do I feel if it was?
Do I want it to have been serious or a joke?
My head is a mess.
I let out a freeing laugh as I try to work out some thread of sense. Cam … hanging out and getting close again after all these years has been amazing. Whenever I think of him or see him or tease him endlessly, these zaps go off deep in my gut, and everything feels right.
I struggle to think back almost ten years ago to when I first got together with Laura, trying to remember if this was how I felt. Instead of picturing her though, all I can see is Cam.
Him skateboarding when we were ten, him tackling Carter Seigar when we were seven for teasing me, him at fourteen, telling me he was leaving for a different school and how I felt like everything was about to end.
Then at sixteen, jerking off together, looking up and catching his eyes and feeling something shift so deep in my chest it caught me totally off guard.
Holy shit.
I have no idea if Cam was joking, but I’m hit with solid certainty that I’m not.
I … think I have feelings. For him.
The kind of feelings I’m completely sure I’ve never had for anyone.
And that makes everything a thousand times more complicated.
I’ve just ended a relationship that lasted almost half of my life. I’m only starting to figure myself out and work up the courage to be alone for the first time. Dragging Cam into all that doesn’t seem fair.
The image of him naked tonight, confidently striding into the water, was breathtaking … and if I have feelings for him, shouldn’t that make me want to have sex with him?
I shake my head, frustrated with myself and the way my body works. How can I find him gorgeous and be attracted to his body but have no reaction to it?
And how have I reacted to him in the past?
This is a mindfuck.
I’m almost certain that the ache in my chest is telling me I need more from him, but what if I’m mixing that up with friendship? What if I love him in a different way than what’s needed to make a relationship work?
I’ve clearly gotten it wrong once before.
I’m panting hard by the time I reach my street and make it down my front path.
As soon as I have my front door unlocked, I crash through it and slam it behind me, then collapse against the wall.
Even running all that way didn’t get the adrenaline out, and I’m tingling from my head right down to my toes.
Fuck, I’m gonna pass out.
I shake the feeling off and grab some water from the kitchen before collapsing onto the couch. Maybe tequila was a bad choice, because I’m crashing, and the alcohol feels like it’s draining rapidly from my system.
It’s making me feel sleepy and boneless, and I remind myself that even if these thoughts and feelings are hitting me hard, it doesn’t mean a damn thing.
I don’t have to act on them.
And if Cam was being serious, he doesn’t have to either.
Maybe it’s all a result of rebuilding our friendship after so long. It hurt when we grew apart, and now he’s back in my life, it feels incredible. I look forward to finishing work each day, knowing I’ll get to see him. I look forward to the teasing and the silences and knowing he’s close by.
If I’ve learned anything about Cam though, it’s that he likes sex. I’ve watched him from the window so many times, with my gut in knots, as he shows his hookups out.
Even if he does have feelings for me, and I have feelings for him, that’s one thing I’m not sure I can offer him.
Am I ace? Gray-ace? I don’t know.
It wouldn’t be fair of me to ask him to hold back from all that.
I can’t do another relationship where I put myself through sex because I have to, and I couldn’t ask Cam to go without either.
It’s draining. And no matter how I feel now, forcing something that doesn’t fit will only make us resent each other.
Wow, this is complicated.
I’m sitting there, staring vacantly into my shadowy living room when I hear the snick of the front door opening and then closing again. I must have forgotten to lock it, and while it could be someone coming to rob and dismember me, I’m pretty sure the reality is much worse.
Campbell creeping into my house instead of barreling down the hall gives me the impression that he’s feeling more standoffish than usual.
“Rafe?”
His soft voice only cements that feeling.
“In here.”
Cam’s shadowy figure appears in the doorway, but he doesn’t come any closer. The silence that passes between us is weighted in understanding, but I don’t want to jump to conclusions or bring up what I heard, because that feels like a big conversation I’m not ready for.
Cam clears his throat. “I take it you heard … what I said.”
Okay, so he’s bringing it up anyway. I shouldn’t be surprised. “Yeah. Good joke.” My voice catches almost hysterically on the word.
He approaches silently and takes the place at the other end of the couch. “What if it wasn’t?”
“What?”
“A joke.”
My stomach drops into a free fall that makes me light-headed. I want to draw it out, make him explain, but neither of us needs him to. “Oh.”
“Sorry.” The word sounds like a reflex, and I wish I could see his expression.
“Why are you sorry?”
He doesn’t answer right away, and then he lets out a little laugh. “It feels like I need to be.”
“You don’t.”
“You’re … okay with it?”
How do I answer that question without either sounding like a dick or putting myself in a vulnerable position? “Shouldn’t I be flattered?”
“I don’t know.”
The words feel empty. I turn, but from where he’s sitting, all I can see is the back of his head.
“Cam?”
He hums that he’s listening.
“It’s okay.”
“Is it though?” The standoffishness dissolves, and his words have life again.
“It doesn’t feel okay. It doesn’t feel fair that I can’t get you out of my head, Rafe.
And you don’t have to worry about feeling the same—I don’t have any expectations here.
I just can’t stand the thought of us drifting apart again. ”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “We won’t.”
“Yeah, we’ll see.” The skepticism is strong.
Arguing the point won’t help, and the last thing I want is for him to leave here feeling like shit. He won’t even look at me, which is so unlike Cam. “Hey.”
He shakes his head, damp blond curls trembling with the motion.
I swallow back all my nerves and slide closer to him.
“This is so fucked-up,” he whispers. His voice is gravelly and sends little tingles racing down my spine.
“Why?”
When he doesn’t answer, I push back my hesitation and slowly reach for his hand.
His fist is hard under my fingers, but as I slide my palm over the back of it, he starts to loosen his hold.
He softens, molding under my touch, and those unfamiliar zaps start to light up in my gut as he twists his hand and catches mine, linking our fingers together.
“Why, Cam?”
When he looks at me, his eyes are dark sparks, catching the minimal glow from the streetlights outside. He holds my stare, refusing to look away. “Because I’ve felt this way since we were fifteen, and I can’t make it go away.”
“W-what?”
“Make it stop, Rafe …”
Fifteen? My heart starts to beat faster, and a whooshing fills my ears that makes me dizzy, and before I know what I’m doing, I lean forward and brush my lips over his.
The contact is warm, his lips soft. I do it again, and again that warmth flows through me.
I’m nervous and don’t know what I’m doing, but not one part of me wants to stop.
Cam lets go of my hand, and his fingers run down my cheeks, lightly holding my face as he pulls back. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know …” My eyes stay trained on his mouth. “But it feels right.”
His tongue darts out, leaving a glossy sheen behind. “It feels so much more than right.”
This time we meet halfway, the tentativeness disappearing as our lips make contact. His hands find my hair, and Cam takes the lead, his confident movements turning me to jelly. The need coming from him is powerful and messy, and as the kiss heats up, panic crawls through me.
Cam’s moan rumbles all the way down into my chest. He leans forward, guiding me to lie back as he blankets my body with his. It feels so good, but I can’t relax, can’t focus. His large hand trails down my neck, over my throat, before he grips my jaw in a way that makes me feel claimed.
Then my brain checks back in and recognizes his hard length pressed against my thigh.
“Cam.” I pull back, breathless, head spinning, feeling more alive and free than I ever have in my life, while simultaneously feeling sick at the thought that I’m leading him on. “I don’t … I don’t want …”
“Shh …” His hold on my jaw relaxes, caresses, and some of the heat in his expression softens as he looks at me. “It’s okay. I know.”
“I don’t think I want to—”
He cuts off my panic with a soft kiss. “I know, Rafe.” Cam shifts a little so his body is more on the couch than on me. “Nothing will happen that you’re not comfortable with. Is this … is kissing okay?”
“Yes.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.”
“But …” I’m awkward, not used to talking about this, especially with another man. “You’re, uh, turned on.”
“And?”
“So, don’t you want more?”
He laughs, chest shaking lightly against my side.
“I will always want more with you, because I’ve been dreaming about this since we were kids.
That’s not your problem though. I’m a big boy—I can take care of myself.
And if all you ever want to give me is this kiss …
” He leans down, running his nose affectionately over my cheek.
“Then I’ll fucking take it. And when we’re done …
” His lips find my ear. “I’m going to go home and jerk off to the memory of finally getting to touch you. ”
I shiver, and it makes Cam pull back to study me.
“Do you like that?”
“I … the thought of turning you on? Yeah, actually.”
“Hmm … interesting.” He presses his hips forward until his hard dick is against my thigh again. “You like knowing you caused this? That you make me so goddamn hard.”
I hum because now I know he doesn’t expect anything, I can relax and start to work through some of what I’m feeling. “I only want to kiss,” I reestablish. “But, umm … yes. Turning you on, it makes me feel good.”
“Me too,” he murmurs. “And for what it’s worth, kissing you is incredible.”
Cam’s lips find mine again, softer this time. I immediately open for his tongue, and when he presses forward, swiping it over mine, it’s gentle, slow. Everywhere we touch is heightened, every nerve ending thrumming alive, and the small zaps I felt earlier are increasing, setting my skin on fire.
I’ve never realized how hot kissing can be. How intimate.
I pull Cam back on top of me, loving the way his weight presses into me, making me feel completely consumed by him.
I toss his hat on the floor so I can get to his hair.
His hands don’t stop moving either, cupping my face, gripping my hair, stroking my neck, and every time he breaks the kiss to drag his lips over my face, little puffs of air hit my skin.
“You are so sexy,” he breathes. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”
I wrap my arms around his waist. “Just this?”
“Anything and everything you’ll give me. I’m greedy for you, for making you feel good.”
“This does.”
“Good.” He grins against my mouth. “Then stop interrupting my fantasy.”
I melt under him. Like that, my brain is finally able to completely switch off.
All I focus on are his soft lips, his sweet touches, the lust-drenched cadence of his breathing.
It’s freeing. This first time I’ve ever been able to let go and enjoy affection and kissing for what it is.
Something I need. Something I want and can actually have, without stressing about what the next step is.
Cam stays true to his word. He keeps his touches innocent, but I can feel the emotion and the way he’s responding to me.
My heart is so damn full of him.
And when he pulls away and says he needs to go, there’s a finality in his tone that lets me know even if I offered to take care of his problem, he wouldn’t agree.
I walk him to the door, and it’s hot to think he’s going to go home and jerk off from kissing me. As he’s about to leave, I pull him in for one more kiss, then press forward, bringing our hips together. The hard bulge under his jeans connects with mine, and he sucks in a gasp.
“Some inspiration for you,” I say against his mouth.
He pulls back, eyes tender with everything I didn’t know I needed. “Fuck, Rafe. You’re perfect.” He lands a hard kiss on my mouth, my cheek, my jaw. “Will you think of me? When you touch yourself?”
“Yeah …” I breathe. “Ever since you gave me that toy, I haven’t thought of anyone else.”
“Shit.” He jerks away, and before I can say anything else, he jogs down my stairs and across his lawn. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he calls back.
Then he vaults the hedged fence between our houses and disappears inside.
Holy shit.
I step back and close the door numbly, completely dazed by everything that happened.
And not regretting it for a minute.