Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Theo
I woke before the alarm.
I didn’t know what time it was, only that the grey light leaking around the curtains felt too thin, too sharp, as though it illuminated everything I didn’t want to look at. My head hurt in that dull, hollow way that came after a night of not-quite-sleeping.
I lay still for a long moment, staring at the ceiling. My body felt like it didn’t belong to me.
My mind felt worse. Last night replayed with cruel precision: Cameron’s hopeful eyes. My forced apology. The flinch. The lie. The shutdown.
Cameron’s expression when I said I can’t do this right now.
I pressed the heel of my hand to my brow, as if I could smudge the memory away.
I hurt him. Not intentionally. Never intentionally, but that didn’t change the fact that I’d done it. I’d seen the confusion in Cameron’s face morph into the kind of hurt that didn’t lash out but folded in on itself.
Exactly how Luka taught me to be.
The thought tasted bitter.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed, exhaling hard. The flat was silent.
Too silent.
Is Cameron lying awake on the sofa, replaying the same wreckage?
What haunted me was that I’d ruined the equilibrium between us. I’d felt it as soon as I stepped into the living room the previous night.
Go and make this right.
I pulled on my joggers, walked out of my room and into the living room.
Cameron wasn’t there.
The bedding was folded neatly. His sketchbook sat closed beside it.
Where are you?
I moved to the kitchen, each step grounding and destabilising at once. I set water to boil, pulled out the coffee, and fought the urge to clench my jaw. I needed order and ritual in the morning. I needed predictability.
Cameron was messing with my wiring.
The kettle clicked off. I poured the water too fast, splashing it onto the counter. I hissed a curse and grabbed a cloth.
Pull yourself together.
But that was the problem. I was together, rigidly so. I was held so tightly in place that any small shift, like Cameron’s touch, made the whole structure rattle.
I could still feel Cameron’s hand on my shoulder, light, warm, and trusting. My chest constricted painfully.
I’ve ruined something delicate. I’ve hurt someone gentle.
And the worst part?
Cameron had still looked at me as though I mattered.
I leaned my palms on the countertop, my head bowed. I wasn’t built for this,
for emotions that didn’t fit neatly into boxes, for someone who smiled at me like I was worth the effort.
I’m not built for Cameron.
The front door opened and I straightened quickly.
Cameron came into the kitchen, carrying a bottle of milk. He set it down on the counter. “We ran out, so I went to the shop.” He chuckled. “Who knew the price of milk had doubled overnight?” His hoodie hung loosely over his frame.
“I did warn you. You need to take out a mortgage to buy a week’s groceries from that place.”
Cameron offered a small, careful smile, as though he was testing the air. “Morning.”
I managed something like a nod. “Morning.”
The air felt different, and I hated it. I missed the easy way Cameron had taken up space when he’d first arrived, filled with a soft-edged confidence, warmth radiating from him effortlessly.
Now he was cautious.
Because of me.
“Did you sleep okay?” Cameron asked in a light tone.
“No.” It slipped out before I could shield it.
Cameron’s eyebrows rose slightly, surprised but not mocking. “Me neither.”
A thread tugged tight between us, an acknowledgment, mutual and painful.
I cleared my throat, searching for safer ground. “Coffee?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
I poured a second mug, setting it on the counter. Cameron wrapped his hands around it, watching the steam curl upward.
Minutes passed. Quiet ones. Not comfortable, but not hostile either, just careful.
Cameron bit his lip as if weighing whether to speak, and I tried not to stare.
Since when did I find lip-biting so fucking sexy?
That was easy. Never.
Cameron cleared his throat. “Can I ask you something without it being weird?”
As long as you don’t ask me why I was staring at your dick the other day. Or anything about last night.
I gave a cautious nod. “We can try.”
“The group has a rehearsal tonight.” He hesitated. “Would it be okay if I came along? Just to watch?”
I froze.
Cameron rushed to fill the silence. “I’ll keep out of the way. I… I’d like to see you doing what you love. You talk about the group as though it’s this whole other world, and I want to know what that looks like.”
I knew I should say no. I knew all the reasons why: professionalism, distraction, the danger of seeing that warm, open gaze fixed on me in a room full of people.
But what came out instead was a quiet, “I’d have to ask them first.”
Cameron’s face lit up with a mixture of surprise and relief. “Seriously?”
I chuckled. “I said I’d ask—that doesn’t mean they’ll say yes.”
He pointed to my phone. “Then don’t waste time. Ask them.”
I rolled my eyes, grabbed my phone, and opened the group chat thread.
Remember Cameron? You met him at the bar that time. He wants to watch us rehearse tonight.
Julian: Ooh. The cute one. I vote yes.
Oliver: Me too.
Milo: Fine by me.
Finnley: I wasn’t there but I trust these guys. Sure. Bring him along. [grin emoji] Is he going to sing too?
I read that aloud to Cameron, who laughed.
Theo: I don’t think so. I placed my phone on the counter. “Looks like you’re coming to rehearsal.” My heart thudded. Cameron let out a relieved sigh and I narrowed my gaze. “Don’t make me regret it.”
“Never.” Cameron offered the first genuine smile I’d seen for at least a day.
I wasn’t certain why I’d said yes.
Maybe to prove I can handle it. More likely because part of me already knew I couldn’t handle it and didn’t care anymore.
Whatever this was between us, it was moving, changing shape, breaking every rule I’d made.
It’s only a rehearsal.
It was harmless. Manageable.
But even as I thought it, I knew the truth was something different.
Whatever this is, it isn’t going to stay harmless for long.
Cameron
I walked at Theo’s side, struggling to keep up with him. If nervous energy counted as cardio, I wouldn’t have needed the gym.
But why am I so nervous? My heart thumped, my palms were clammy.
I had an inkling about that. It was the thought of seeing Theo in a familiar situation. How many times as a teenager had I watched Theo work with the choir group, revealing a whole new side to him? I recalled how he’d lose himself in the music, the way he focused.
This will feel like old times.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to relive those days of being overwhelmed by my first crush.
For the first time, I knew I was gay. I’d also known who made my newbie gay heart beat faster.
I blinked as we turned onto a narrow street.
“The studio is here?” It was lined with dingy shops, most of them closed, their windows whitewashed out. A newsagent’s and a dry cleaners provided the only signs of life.
Theo chuckled. “I think studio would be pushing it a bit. It’s a room to rehearse in, that’s all.
Having said that, I think we’re ready to move up in the world.
Max has found us a proper studio.” Another chuckle.
“Well, he’s found it—I’m paying for it.” He paused at a narrow door next to the dry cleaners. “This is it.”
I gazed at the peeling paint. “Tell me it’s better inside.”
Theo’s wry chuckle as we climbed the stairs did not make me feel optimistic.
As we approached the door, I caught the sound of laughter and chatter.
“I’m usually here first,” Theo said. “Good thing I gave Max a key too.”
I flushed. “That was my fault, wasn’t it?” I’d taken longer in the shower than I’d intended.
Theo pushed the door open, and I sniffed. “What do you do in here, mainline coffee?” We stepped inside.
Silence fell, and nine pairs of eyes turned toward me at once.
“Hey, look who the maestro brought!” Max was lounging against an upright piano. “Is he the guest star or your emotional support?”
“Neither,” Theo said in a crisp tone. “He’s observing.”
“Of course he is.” Milo said. “That’s what we all say the first time.”
Laughter rippled through the group.
Theo rolled his eyes. “Can we cut the ‘Oh, look who you’ve brought with you’ performance. I told you he was coming.”
I recalled most of their faces from the bar. Oliver—the firefighter?—came over to me, hand extended. “Welcome back. I’d have thought the leather bar would’ve been a harrowing enough experience.” He grinned. “A glutton for punishment, eh?” We shook, and my fingers were crushed in his strong grip.
I flushed. “That was supposed to be a one-time field trip.”
“Uh-huh,” Sebastian said, eyes twinkling. “Purely anthropological, I’m sure.”
“Stop scaring him.” Max left the piano and came forward. “He’s clearly here for the music. Or for Theo. Same thing these days.”
Theo groaned under his breath. “Max. Please.”
I grinned despite myself.
Julian raised a hand in greeting. “Ah, the beauty from the bar returns. Are you here to inspire us? Distract us? Both?”
A lean guy leaned against a mic stand, his eyes accentuated by rainbow glitter and black eyeliner.
“He’s obviously here for me. Understandable.
” I glanced at his boots with their heels that had to be four inches or more, buttons up the front crisscrossed with laces.
His black tee was emblazoned with the words BUTT SLUT, and he must have poured himself into those jeans.
I knew armour when I saw it.
Theo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ignore them. They haven’t been fed.”
Oliver chuckled. “He’s fine, Theo. Let the guy breathe.”
I applied names to the faces in my head, then realised there were two new ones. One guy offered a lazy salute.
“I’m Zane.” He grinned. “And you are stunning.” Theo coughed, and Zane arched his eyebrows. “Just telling it like it is.”
I thought Zane was the stunning one with his black curly hair, short all over, and his moustache and barely-there beard.
He wouldn’t look out of place in a fashion mag.
Butt Slut Guy grinned. “And I’m Finnley.”