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Chapter Thirty-Four

Cameron

All I can think as we ride up the elevator to my apartment is that he found out. He knows Savannah has been cheating on him—because obviously that’s been going on for a long time. His life is ruined now. She’s finally destroyed what’s left of him.

But did she tell him I know too?

Of course she didn’t. Austen wouldn’t have come here if he knew that I knew about Savannah. He’d obviously want me to tell him, right? I should tell him. Yet… he’s already hurt right now.

The threat from Matteo is the least of my worries. If he knew anything about me at all, he’d know my job is not more important than the people I care about. He could have threatened my entire career and I wouldn’t have cared. Not if it would destroy my friends in the process.

Yet, it seems I’m doing that all on my own by keeping this secret. One that I should tell Austen about. But maybe he already knows and it’s done. Maybe she didn’t tell him, and he’ll never have to know that I was there, that I saw it. That I chose to keep it from him. So, I guess the smart thing to do is to just forget it. Stop worrying about it. What I should worry about is him now, here. Whatever happened between them, he came here. He chose to come to me… and I’m states away.

Don’t look into it too much, Cameron.

Fuck, this is going to be really hard. Because what I’ve learned from the last time I saw him until now is that Austen has my heart. Forever and always. My feelings for him never went away, and I don’t think they ever will. I’d planned on making peace with the fact he is married and will never be mine. Even after what I saw with Savannah… but maybe there’s a chance? I mean, he’s here, right? He came to me.

Everything up until now has been innocent. We ran into each other, hung out, that was that. But coming to me during a hard time? That’s more. It has to be.

Once we’re in my apartment, I lock up.

“Do you want to change?” I ask.

He looks down at his drenched clothes. “I forgot my stuff in the car.”

“It’s okay. I have some clothes you can wear. Come on.”

I gesture for him to follow me and lead us into my room, where I dig through my drawers and pull out two pairs of sweats and two t-shirts and hand him a set.

“Bathroom is over there.” I gesture behind him, at the closed door that blends in with the wall.

He heads in there, and I quickly change into my own dry clothes while he’s changing. Once he’s done, I take his wet clothes and toss them into my wash with the few other things in there and start the cycle.

“Are you hungry?” I ask.

“No, thanks.”

“Thirsty?”

He shakes his head, running a hand through his wet hair.

“Movie then,” I say, making the decision.

He smirks and we go to the couch, where I grab the remote and start searching. He looks like he could use something funny, so I browse the comedy section. I settle on Night at the Roxbury—for obvious reasons.

“I haven’t watched this in so long,” he comments.

“Neither have I.”

The movie starts up and I get comfortable, but notice from the corner of my eye that Austen doesn’t look so comfortable. I get up to get him a blanket from the closet and open it up, throwing it over his shoulders. He watches me curiously. I just shrug.

“You looked cold.”

With a nod, he pulls it tighter around him and we go back to watching the movie.

The silence feels… off. It’s not exactly awkward but it’s not comfortable either.

“Do you want to talk about why you’re here?” I ask.

Nothing in his posture tells me he heard me, but I spoke loud enough so he must have.

“I just didn’t know where else to go,” he says, turning his attention to me. There’s something in the way he’s looking at me, but I can’t quite tell what it is.

Does he know that I know? Is he waiting for me to admit it? Does he even know at all? This could have nothing to do with what I saw. I mean, Savannah isn’t the kind of person to get herself into trouble, so I doubt she admitted it.

“Does Savannah know about… you know? What happened with us?” I ask carefully.

He shakes his head. “No, I never told her.”

“Does it bother you that you’re lying to her?”

He purses his lips, looking back at the TV.

“At first, it did. Now? No.” He looks at me again. “You were right about me being miserable, Cameron. I am. My marriage is in shambles, my life is… a mess.”

“I shouldn’t have said that to you,” I say.

“Maybe not, but it’s the truth, and you have always seen me for what I really am. You’ve always, somehow, seen through the mask I put in place.”

I swallow hard, not knowing what to say to that.

When I couldn’t sleep, I hadn’t expected someone to show up at my place, never mind to have this deep conversation.

“You’re not that hard to read, Austen. Savannah just…” I sigh. “I’m sorry, I don’t even know how to say it nicely.”

He huffs a laugh. “It’s okay, I get it.” He groans, stretching out. “Trust me, I get it.”

“I’m sorry that your marriage isn’t doing well. I never wanted that for you.”

“Didn’t you?” he asks with a smirk.

“I never wanted you to be hurt or unhappy. I just… didn’t want you with Savannah.”

He nods. “Maybe I should have listened. Maybe I…”

I swear his gaze darts to my mouth, but he’s so far on the other end of the couch it’s hard to tell.

“What?” I say, the word coming out breathy.

“Nothing.” Austen shakes his head, bringing his attention back to the TV. We don’t speak for a few minutes, until I feel him looking at me again.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him what’s wrong when he scoots over and lies down, putting his head on my lap and bringing the blanket up to cover him.

“Is this okay?” he asks, looking up at me.

“Yes,” I say, putting my arm around him and resting my hand on his chest. I can feel the faint soft thud of his heartbeat against my palm. Austen and I were always close when we were younger, but cuddling isn’t really something we did. So… this is very new and very welcome.

Before I know it, the movie is done and I’m scrolling to find another.

“You can put on whatever you want. I’m beat,” Austen says with a yawn. I glance at the clock. The sun will be coming up soon.

“Damn,” I say. “I should get to bed too.”

He shifts off me and I get to my feet.

“I don’t have a guest room, but uh—” I scratch the back of my neck. “I mean, my bed is big enough…”

Austen smirks as he gets to his feet.

“Better than the double we used to squish in?”

“So much better,” I say with a laugh.

He follows me into my room, and when I turn to get into bed, he’s just standing there, staring at me with this strange look that I can’t place.

“You okay?” I ask, pulling the blankets down. He’s at the foot of the bed, seeming unsure of where to go.

“I don’t know, Cameron.”

His words are so broken they have my heart hurting. I go to him and pull him into a hug because maybe he needs a hug. When’s the last time he got one? Savannah isn’t the hugging type… and Austen loves hugs. Does she even know that about him? After all these years, it should be something she knows, but something tells me she doesn’t. Or worse, she does, but doesn’t care.

“I’m sorry, Cam,” he says, and I pull back to look at him.

“You don’t have any reason to be sorry,” I say, noticing the tears in his eyes. I bring my thumbs up to wipe them away.

“Don’t say that. Yes, I do. I was cruel. I put all the blame on you and it wasn’t your fault. I made you feel like shit, I know I did.”

“It’s over now. It’s in the past.” I shrug.

“But nothing is the same. Everything sucks. My life sucks. My wife is a bitch. My best friend hates me.”

“Hey, I do not hate you,” I say, gripping his face and making him look at me. “I do not hate you, Austen. I could never hate you.” I search his watery blue eyes and he lets out a sob, eyes falling closed. His hands slide up my stomach and come to rest against my chest. I suck in a sharp breath when his nails dig in, grasping at my shirt.

“Cameron,” he whispers, opening his eyes and looking at me like a lost little boy. I hate it. That’s what I hate. I hate how unhappy he is, and how far apart we are. I hate what we’ve become and how we lost everything that we were. I’d have been happy with that. It would have been better than the nothing I’ve had over the last seven years.

“Austen,” I say back, my word no stronger than his.

I swear he steps closer to me. I can’t be sure, but I think he does. I’m suddenly very aware of how close he is, how we’re in my bedroom, alone. He’s upset and I shouldn’t be thinking the things I’m thinking, but fuck, I can’t help it.

His gaze definitely goes to my mouth, there’s no mistaking it. His tongue darts out to lick his lips, and I am so going to regret this. I am. I know I am. Nothing good can come out of what I’m going to do, but… I can’t fucking help myself. So I lean in and kiss him.

I expect him to shove me off, yell at me, tell me how much of a piece of shit I am for taking advantage of him, because yeah… this time maybe that is what I’m doing. The first time he was drunk, this time he’s sad… I don’t have a great track record doing this with him. That should be a sign, but I don’t listen to anyone but me.

But he doesn’t push me away or yell at me. He kisses me back, and it scares the absolute hell out of me, so I pull away and step back.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” I blurt out. “I am so sorry. Oh my God, I don’t know what I was thinking. I just… Austen, fuck. I—”

He lunges for me, grabbing the back of my neck and pressing his lips to mine. I’m shocked for all of a second before my mind quiets and I return the kiss.

Nothing about this is much different from last time. The issue isn’t now, isn’t tonight. It’s later… when we wake up. Is he going to regret it? Probably. Is it going to hurt? Yeah.

But this is Austen, and I can’t stop myself when it comes to him.

The kiss is frantic. Our hearts are pounding, breathing is heavy. We can’t grip onto each other tightly enough, can’t get close enough. But soon it turns slow and sweet and dare I say loving. I press my forehead to his as we break the kiss.

“I’m tired of being miserable,” he says softly. “I’m tired of my life.”

I’m not really sure what I can say to that. I know what I want to say, but it all feels like way too much too soon. So instead, I lead us to my bed where we do not sleep with space between us. We cuddle together, limbs tangled. And we sleep like that until late afternoon.