Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Cameron
Theo had gone to meet with a client, for which I was thankful.
I’d finally started work on my exhibition piece.
Right now, it was under the couch, hidden from sight, radiating electricity, dangerous and holy.
I’d begun the sketches for it the previous night, the moment Theo fell asleep after I’d worn him out.
The faint lines of tension had gone from his face, his lips were parted slightly, and one hand was still curled where my fingers had been minutes earlier.
A portrait of Theo in bed, not posed or performing, but as I saw him, undone, unprotected, unmasked.
It was the most intimate thing I’d ever created.
I spent the morning working with the first layers of paint, and I’d worked carefully and reverently. But by late afternoon, after Theo had messaged to say he’d gone to a café to work, to give me space, I knew I had to take a break. The flat felt too quiet, too empty without him.
So I made the decision to join Theo and the others for their rehearsal.
The moment I stepped into the Soho studio, sketchbook tucked under my arm, I knew they were also on a break. Finnley was telling a story, his hands animated, his eyes bright, and laughter filled the air.
I was getting used to them all. It was easy to like the more flamboyant, chaotic characters like Julian and Finnley. The rest of them were more of a mystery.
Liam was one of the quiet ones, a nurse. I got the feeling his career suited him. He gave the impression of being a caring soul. Oliver, the hunky firefighter, was another quiet one. Elliott had a great sense of humour, and Milo… damn, that boy made the piano weep when he played.
And I bet they all have a story to tell.
Theo and Max were deep in conversation at the mixing desk, and I knew Theo hadn’t seen me yet.
Julian spotted me, however, and sauntered over. I don’t think I’d ever seen his wardrobe look out of place.
He’s a guy who men notice in a heartbeat.
“Well, well,” Julian drawled, grinning. “If it isn’t our unofficial mascot. Look at you, golden boy.”
I laughed. “Golden?”
“Please.” Julian flicked his carefully coiffured hair. “Max calls me dramatic, but you? You walk in glowing like a sex scene just happened off-camera.”
My cheeks heated up in a nanosecond.
Julian whooped. “Oh my God. Something did happen.”
My heart pounded. “What? No—I mean—”
Finnley appeared behind Julian, sporting an equally wide grin. “Ooh, nice blush, Cam.”
Julian leaned closer. “I knew it,” he declared in a stage whisper. “I knew it the moment Theo walked in looking as though his soul had been put through a blender.”
I tried not to stare at Theo across the room. God, he looks so hot when he wears black.
Julian grabbed two stools, shoved me onto one, then sat next to me with a flourish. “Welcome to your intervention-slash-interview.”
I laughed nervously. “Do I get a choice?” I snuck a glance in Theo’s direction, then quickly averted my gaze.
Not quick enough.
Julian studied me, turned to stare at Theo, then returned his gaze to me.
“Oh, honey. You are in something.”
“Maybe.”
Except there was no maybe about it.
Julian slung an arm around my shoulders. “Good. Someone needs to break that man open and steal all the diamonds inside.” He grinned. “Now. First question: Did you or did you not fuck our resident emotionally constipated bass last night?”
I choked. “Julian!”
“I knew it!” Julian slapped his knee. “Your face is doing the thing!”
I groaned. “What thing?”
“The ‘I fucked someone’s brains out and now I’m glowing’ thing.”
I covered my face with my hands. “This is humiliating.”
Julian pried my hands away. “No, this is delicious.” He cupped my chin, forcing me to look him in the eye. “Second question—does Theo know he’s falling in love with you yet?”
I froze. “What makes you think that?” I croaked.
“Because I have eyes.” Julian’s grin faded. “Oh,” he said softly. “It’s real, isn’t it?”
I looked down, my cheeks still burning. “I don’t know what it is yet.”
Julian nudged me with his shoulder. “You like him.”
I huffed. “I think we’re already past that stage.”
“And he likes you.”
“I hope so.”
Julian snorted. “Honey, I saw the way he looked at you at the last rehearsal. Like he invented you.”
My chest fluttered. “You think?”
Julian rolled his eyes. “Cameron, please. Theo Sinclair is not subtle.”
Okay, then I smiled.
Julian’s grin was back. “Good. Now spill. Have you been on a date yet, or is everything happening within the confines of Theo’s bed?”
“We went on a date the other night.”
Julian squealed so loudly Max shouted from across the room for him to shut up.
Theo looked up at that exact moment and froze. His gaze locked on Julian’s arm around me, and I felt the air shift.
Julian apparently felt it too. He straightened, his eyes widening. “Oh, this really is delicious.”
Theo stared at us one second too long, then looked away sharply.
What the—
Realisation hit me like a warm, electric shock.
Theo is jealous.
I liked it far more than I should’ve.
Theo
Cameron and Julian, sitting close together, their knees brushing.
Cameron laughing, and Julian leaning in, looking far too delighted.
My chest tightened, and there was a weight in my belly.
I have no right to feel jealous.
But I felt it anyway.
Cameron gazed at me, his smile fond, almost private.
Julian smirked, and my stomach plummeted.
They’ve been talking about me.
“Oooh,” Max murmured beside me. “Now that’s a face.”
“It’s nothing,” I said sharply.
“That’s the nothingest nothing you’ve ever nothinged.” Max nudged my arm. “Jealous?”
“No.”
“Yes,” Max said in a gleeful tone. I glared at him, and he grinned even wider. “You’re jealous of Julian. Julian, the man who flirts with lamps.”
I looked back at the pair. Cameron was still watching me. Not Julian, not the room.
Me.
My chest squeezed painfully, and I looked away too fast.
Max’s voice softened. “Hey. He’s choosing you, you know.”
I didn’t answer. Wanting Cameron was easy. Believing I deserved him?
That was the part I didn’t know how to do.
Cameron laughed at something Julian whispered, Julian’s hand resting casually on Cameron’s shoulder, Cameron leaning in, trusting, warm, open.
My stomach knotted.
Jealousy was not an emotion I felt often. Jealousy was messy, irrational—uncontrolled. And seeing Julian, gorgeous, magnetic, charming Julian, draping himself over Cameron as if he’d known him for years?
It was unsettling, because Cameron didn’t pull away.
I’m not enough for him. I’m not charming. I’m not easy to understand.
Cameron deserved someone uncomplicated.
“I’m not jealous,” I repeated, because maybe if I said it enough times, I’d believe it.
Julian laughed loudly at something Cameron said, and Max snorted. “Tell that to your eyebrows, which are currently trying to murder Julian.” He squeezed my arm. “Will you relax, you idiot? Cameron is here for you, no one else.”
Now all I had to do was make myself believe that.
Cameron
“Break over,” Theo called out.
Julian stood. “Cameron, sweetheart, sit by me. I need someone pretty in my eyeline to cope with Theo.”
I laughed. “That’s a bold choice of words when Theo’s right there.”
Beside the mixing desk, Theo gave Julian a pointed glare that could have cut diamonds. “I said break over.”
Julian whispered loudly, “See?”
The room burst into laughter, light, easy, and chaotic in the way friendships always were.
But beneath the laughter, I sensed a subtle shift since the last time I’d watched them rehearse.
The guys still teased, still threw playful jabs across the room, but now they looked at Theo differently, maybe even more attentively, more aware.
Maybe they’ve noticed how he’s cracked open in small ways since I started hanging around.
Or maybe I was projecting way too hard.
I found a seat at the back, my sketchbook resting on my knee. I wasn’t planning to draw. It was more like a shield to hide behind.
Theo adjusted the mic stand with clipped efficiency. At first glance he appeared calm, but I could see the strain in the set of his jaw.
The others gathered around in a semicircle.
“‘Ain’t No Sunshine’ from the top,” Theo said. “Give me your cleanest lines. No drifting.”
And then they began.
The room filled with sound, warm, rich, and layered.
It wasn’t perfect but damn, it was alive.
Julian and Elliott blended their tenors into something smooth.
Oliver and Liam’s baritones grounded everything with thrum and weight.
Finnley hovered in the upper harmonics, playing like a cat with a laser pointer.
Max’s bass rolled through the floorboards.
And Theo—
My breath caught.
Theo didn’t just sing. He inhabited the song, his deep, resonant bass steady, aching, and exquisitely controlled. I watched him lose himself, his guard falling away. It was as if the habitual storm inside him quieted for a moment.
When they hit the first chorus, Theo closed his eyes, and that was how I knew he wasn’t thinking or holding back.
He was simply feeling.
My chest was tight. I’d never seen anything so beautiful, not even in my art classes. Theo opened his eyes again and looked directly at me. He faltered, just a slip in timing, a microsecond early on the next line, but it was there.
Max side-eyed him, Julian raised a brow, and Finnley grinned like the devil.
Theo didn’t lose control, but I knew he felt something. I could see it in the way his skin coloured beneath the collar of his shirt.
My heart thudded.
I did that.
Just by watching.
They finished the take, and Max exhaled. “Damn. Okay. I felt that.”
“I didn’t,” Theo muttered. “My timing was off.”
“Barely,” Oliver said. “Cameron blinked and you combusted. That happens.”
“Shut up,” Theo snapped, not sharp but flustered.
Flustered Theo was dangerously endearing.
Julian stretched, arching like a cat. “Theo, darling? Either stop staring at him or bring him into the formation. That middle-ground nonsense is killing your rhythm.”
Theo’s ears turned pink, and he fled toward the soundboard.
Max sauntered past me, murmuring under his breath, “You’re chaos incarnate, kid. Keep doing God’s work.”
I choked on a laugh. Then I looked at Theo standing there alone, his back turned, his shoulders taut. I had no idea what put the thought in my head, but it wouldn’t leave me.
He needs me.
Theo
I pretended to adjust the reverb settings, which were perfect, actually.
Everything else was not.
I could still feel Cameron’s gaze on my skin like sun through glass, bright, warm, and piercing.
I lost timing.
I never lost timing.
I heard Cameron’s footsteps before I saw him. I didn’t turn around.
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to distract you.”
“You didn’t.”
Pants. On. Fire.
Cameron stepped closer. “Theo. You can look at me, you know.”
So I did, and regretted it instantly. Cameron’s face was open, earnest, flushed from the heat of the studio. His eyes were warm.
My stomach pulled tight in a knot of desire and fear.
“You sing like that,” Cameron said in a low voice, “and you expect people not to stare?”
Words deserted me.
“I like watching you like this. You’re freer.
” His fingers were warm against mine. “Remember what I told you?” He took a step forward, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him, until all that existed was the space between his inhale and my restraint, taut as a wire. “You don’t have to hide from me.”
I swallowed. “We need to get on with the rehearsal.”
“Okay.”
Everyone went back to their places, and we had another run. I didn’t lose timing, but I did catch my breath, every time Cameron looked at me.
There were some things I wasn’t good at, things I didn’t know how to share.
But maybe it was time I did.