Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
GREGG
Saturday
Golden Horizon Hotel - Grand Executive Suite
San Francisco, California
I wake up slowly, as if my body has decided sleep was a thing worth fighting to keep. The room is washed in pale silver, early morning light diffusing through the windows. London always did this too, made mornings feel suspended.
Cameron is still here. Exactly where he’d promised he would be.
He’s curled into me as though neither of us has moved since the moment we fell asleep. I stay completely still, barely breathing, afraid that even the smallest shift might break whatever fragile magic had settled over us in the night.
His head is resting on my chest, hair rumpled with sleep, breath rising and falling in a steady rhythm that my own seems to follow without effort. Each exhale centers me, each inhale a permission to stay.
Please, I think to myself. Please let me remember this exactly as it is.
I tilt my head just enough to press a single, silent kiss to his forehead, and he murmurs softly in his sleep, brow briefly creasing before easing again. His body shifts closer as if he is searching for more without waking.
My thumb traces slow, lazy patterns along his shoulder, memorizing a map of freckles. Proof that this is real. Proof that he is here, that I’m not imagining the weight of him or the warmth and quiet intimacy of sharing space.
A soft vibration buzzes on the nightstand, startlingly loud in the stillness, and my phone screen blinks to life.
Instinctively, I tighten my arm around Cameron, anchoring him to me as if the world might try to take him the moment I look away. Carefully and painstakingly, I reach for the phone, every movement calculated so I don’t wake him.
The glow feels intrusive and too bright as I unlock the screen and tap the first notification.
JE: Well? Don’t leave me in suspense mate…
JE: When are you back? More importantly, how’re things with Cameron ;-)
I smile at Julian’s message, and type back a reply with one hand.
GH: Things are great! Been great! He’s amazing!
GH: Also got the opportunity to punch Marc in the face… can’t wait to tell you more about it haha.
I back out of the message thread and tap the next notification, and my smile fades away.
CT: Greggory, darling—Mummy says we’ll be dining together soon! <3 I do hope you can make some time for me. xo
My hand goes still against Cameron, and for a few seconds, I feel like I forget how to breathe properly. Celeste’s message shines on my screen, unaware of the potential damage it can bring. A few lines of polite expectation and assumption.
Cameron doesn’t know about her, about the ultimatum. I exhale slowly, careful not to wake him, and force my thumb to move across the screen.
GH: Hi Celeste. That’s news to me, but I have been terribly busy. Returning to London soon, but sure we can find time to chat.
It was civil, I think, exactly the sort of response she’d expect from me. I hit send and set the phone face-down on the nightstand, as if that might quiet the pulse still racing beneath my ribs.
The truth pressed in immediately. I had to tell her. Not later. Not after another delay wrapped in courtesy. If I was going to be honest with anyone in that world, the dinners, the expectations, the future that has been drafted for me long before I’d learned how to want, I owe it to her first.
“Are you watching me sleep?” Cameron murmurs, blinking up at me, his voice rough with sleep and warmth.
I smile, unable to stop myself. “Watching sounds inappropriate,” I say quietly, my thumb brushing through the unruly curls at his temple. “I am… appreciating.”
He lets out a low, half-amused groan as he stretches. The sheets shift between us and his leg tangles more firmly with mine. We stay that way for a few minutes, no urgency, just breathing each other in, suspended in the morning light.
“How long do we have before reality sets in?” he asks at last, his voice soft.
I hesitate long enough to let it sink in. “What do you mean?”
“Like, when do you leave?” he clarifies, curling closer, his forehead resting against my shoulder as if proximity alone can delay the inevitable.
I nod slowly, the truth heavy in my chest. “I… I fly out today. Back to London.”
He sighs. “Well, I guess I need to get back to New York, too.” Then, quieter, almost to himself, “I wish the world could freeze just because we want it to.”
“So do I,” I admit. The words come easily, which surprises me. “I don’t really know what happens next. I just know I don’t want this to be over.” I gesture between us.
Cameron shifts, propping himself up on one elbow so he can see me properly. “Don’t worry about that.”
I search his face, trying to find certainty there. “How can you be so sure?”
“I’m not, but,” he says gently, “like I told you last night. I can’t say it back just yet, but I do have feelings for you. Strong ones.”
My chest loosens, and I smile as I reach up and cup his cheek, committing the feel of him to memory.
“Just don’t forget to make time for texting me while you’re off closing business deals,” he adds, a faint teasing edge softening the seriousness.
“I could never forget to do anything for you, Cam,” I admit honestly. “And when are you back in London?” I pause, smiling. “Certainly not doing that around-the-world flight again?”
“God, no.” Cameron laughs, sinking back into the pillows like the weight of the world has let go of him. “That was too much. I don’t think I have any desire to do it again. At least not for a while.”
I can’t help smiling at the way he said it, loose and unguarded. I roll onto my side to face him, propping my head up with my hand, just watching him breathe.
“Well then,” I say lightly, though I meant it. “What’s next for you?”
He stares up at the ceiling for a moment, thoughtful. “Honestly? I’m pretty free. I just worked this monster of a trip, so I’ve got some breathing room. But next month…” He turns his head toward me. “Next month I’m a language speaker on all my trips.”
“Oh?” I already sense where this is going.
“Rome, Milan, Paris, and Nice.” He pauses, just long enough to make it sting unintentionally. “But no London.”
I lean in and press a slow, deliberate kiss to his neck, more instinct than intention. “You sound disappointed,” I observe quietly.
He exhales softly with a moan, and before I can pull away, he hooks an arm around me and tugs me over on top of him.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Pretty bummed, actually.” He tilts his chin up, brushing his mouth against mine before pulling back just enough to look at me. “Because I met this guy…”
“Oh?” I smile as he kisses me.
“And last time I checked…” Another kiss, slower this time. “He doesn't live in Italy or France.”
For a moment, I forget how to be careful, and I hiss him back, restrained but lingering.
“Well,” I begin softly, resting my forehead against his, “how long are you off?”
He smiles, small and hopeful. “Long enough.”
“Hmm,” I hum, my heart thuds a little harder than I want it to. “How would you feel about Scotland?”
His eyes light up instantly, a brightness I learned meant something mattered.
“Scotland?” he repeats.
I nod. “I think it might be time you saw where I disappear to when I need to breathe.”
He doesn’t answer right away. He just holds onto me, like the idea alone had anchored him.