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Chapter Thirty-Eight

Cameron

I wake up alone in bed. Panic hits me, thinking Austen has left for good. Panicked over what we’ve been doing, like last time.

He’s still supposed to be here for another day, but maybe guilt finally took over and he left in the middle of the night. Then I hear clanking around in my kitchen and smile to myself. I should have known he’d be making breakfast. It’s what he’s done each morning since he’s been here. I’m going to miss it when he leaves. I’m going to miss him when he leaves, and it’s going to take all of my energy to not lose my damn mind knowing he’s home… with her.

I make a quick trip to the bathroom before going to the kitchen.

“Morning,” I say.

Austen grins at me. “Morning.”

I take a seat at the island, since I’ve never used the dining room or table in there.

I get a basic plate full of scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast.

“Wow, and here I thought you’d be serving me homemade croissants and eggs benedict.”

“I can do that tomorrow, if you’d like,” he says, taking a seat beside me with his own plate.

“No… but thank you.”

He shrugs, digging into his food. “Suit yourself.”

I scoff down my food because even though it’s simple, it’s delicious. When I’m done, I make myself a cup of coffee. The empty mug in the sink tells me Austen already had his. He’s working on a glass of orange juice right now. He ordered a ton of groceries, more than what’s needed for while he’s here. It’ll all go bad once he’s gone because I don’t cook.

“So, I was thinking,” he says, and I flinch, missing my mug and splashing coffee onto the counter. I wipe it up, then turn to face him.

“About?”

He gives me a knowing smirk. “I think I’m going to postpone going home…”

“Oh?” I try to keep my voice even, but of course I sound like a pathetic obsessed little boy.

“Yeah. I mean, there’s so much to do here.” Right. Yeah. Of course, he’d want to stay for all the sightseeing stuff. “And of course there’s you.”

I can’t help but smile. “I do live here.”

He drinks the rest of his OJ, then washes the dishes.

“We’re meeting Margo at ten. That okay?”

“Sure,” I answer with a shrug.

“It’s only a little after eight right now,” he says.

I glance at the clock. “Yeah, I can see that.”

He chews on his lip, moving to stand across from me, leaning on the island.

“Do you bring dates home?”

“What?” I say.

“Dates. Do you bring them here?”

“Uh… sometimes?”

There’s no use in lying to him. Though I have no idea why he’s asking me, the last thing I need is to lie to him about something else.

“Have they ever sucked your dick in the kitchen?”

I’m bringing my cup of coffee to my mouth when he says it, and it shocks me so much I spill it. The coffee splashes me, staining my white shirt.

“Shit,” I say, putting the mug down.

“Here, let me help,” Austen says, grabbing the hem of my shirt and pulling it over my head.

“Seriously?”

He shrugs. “You don’t need it. And it was my fault, so the least I can do is help.”

“Right,” I say carefully, noting how close he is to me and he hasn’t backed away.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

I blink, thinking back on what he even asked me. Oh, right. Blowjobs in the kitchen.

“No,” I say. “They have not.”

“Bed then?”

I shake my head.

“Couch?”

I don’t answer, and his eyes glimmer with mischief. He grips my wrist and pulls me around the island and onto the couch, giving me a shove until I fall onto it.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

He gets to his knees in front of me, running a hand through his hair as he grins wickedly at me.

“Erasing the memories of everyone else.” Austen grabs my sweats and tugs them down, freeing my dick that is getting hard. “Is there a problem with that?”

“Not at fucking all,” I say, lifting my hips so he can get my pants the rest of the way off. He wraps his hand around my dick expertly, like he knows exactly how to handle one. I mean, he has his own, but touching someone else’s is different. Leaning in, he licks from my balls to the tip. My head falls back and I groan. His enthusiasm is not missed.

“Breakfast and a blowjob?” I ask with a chuckle.

“What can I say? I appreciate you letting me stay here.” He flashes his bright blue gaze up at me, his grin so fucking sexy it should be criminal.

“If that’s all it took, I’d have called you five years ago.”

He chuckles but then goes back to sucking me off, taking his time to slowly circle his tongue around my shaft, using one hand to massage my balls as he takes me to the back of his throat and groans. I’m just about there when he pops off too fast for my liking and says, “So I was thinking...”

“You’ve been doing a lot of that today, huh?”

“Guess I have.” He strokes me slowly, teasing the hell out of me as he runs his thumb over my cockhead. “Anyway, are you like… a strict top?”

“What?” I bark out. “What the hell kind of question is that?”

He shrugs, twisting his lips as some dirty blond hair falls forward, framing his face. “I’m pretty sure I only remember you telling me about topping guys, so I wasn’t sure,” he says as he continues to stroke me torturously.

“And, well… I was thinking about fucking you.”

Good lord almighty, is he serious?

“You want to fuck me?”

“Yes..” His gaze fixates on me, his lips parted just the slightest as he clears his throat, his voice solid and unwavering as he says, “Yes, I think I would like to fuck you very much.”

“Have you ever even had your dick in an ass before?” I ask, the shock in my voice evident. I know the answer, but I need to hear him say it. I need to know I haven’t slipped into a coma and this isn’t some dream.

He shakes his head, smiling at me. “You’ll be my first.”

Well, in that case, I can’t say no. I need something from him that’s a first, right? If he’s going to leave me and go back to Savannah, if they ever decide to do that, at least it won’t be his first time. He’ll always have the memory of us. Of me and how I let him fuck me. I mean, I’d do it anyway, but yeah… this is great.

I lean forward to grab his chin, bringing him up to my face to kiss him. His hand tightens around my dick, and I groan into his mouth.

“Make me come and we can talk about it.”

He grins wildly as I lean back on the couch, then he makes me come so hard I see stars.

“This is the one,” I say, looking around at the big open space.

“Are you sure?” Austen frowns.

“Oh yeah. Don’t you see it?”

“Nope. All I see is a big room with cracks in the walls and—holy shit, that’s a rat!”

I bark out a laugh as the giant rodent dashes across the room and disappears out the door.

“Welcome to New York.” I hold my arms out wide.

“This place is a dump,” he whispers, moving closer to me. Likely so Margo doesn’t hear him talking shit about it.

“I’m telling you, Austen, this is it. The price is perfect and the location is prime. Yes, it needs work, but with what you’re saving on buying, you can pay for the remodels and make it yours. They may even lower the price once it’s inspected, depending how much work needs to be done.”

Austen takes another look around as if he’s trying to see how I’m seeing it.

“I don’t know…”

“Look over there.” I point to the far end, which is where we came in. “You could put up a line of dividers. Have an awesome lobby right there.” I span my hand the width of the place. “Then more dividers over here and there, and anywhere else. Plus, if you wanted, you could build some walls. It’s easy enough. Maybe along that wall over there, since there aren’t too many windows. Some conference rooms? You can paint however you want, get some local art in here. I think it’ll be great.”

Austen huffs, taking another look around.

“I don’t see what you see, but if you think this is it…”

“I do. Trust me, Austen, this is your building. This is BrewTech.”

With a heavy sigh, he walks to Margo. They share some conversation and then he comes back over to me.

“She’ll be in touch.”

“Great.” I hook my arm in his and lead him to the door. It’s an innocent gesture. Fun. Not something lovers would do, but something they could do. It’s also something friends do. “Time for lunch.”

We grab street food because it is absolutely the best. It’s some Indian Cuisine that isn’t on the main streets, but I’ve eaten it plenty of times and it’s always so damn good. We walk as we eat, dodging people rushing around.

“What are we doing for the rest of the day?” I ask. “More sightseeing? We could go to the Statue of Liberty? Or head over to Chelsea. They have so many art galleries.”

“Art galleries sound nice. I could use some inspiration… or maybe convincing, since I’m still not sure I made the right choice,” he says, pursing his lips.

I roll my eyes. “You haven’t signed anything yet, so you have time to change your mind if you really don’t want it.”

“I’m just afraid that if I don’t do this, I never will.”

“But you need to be sure.”

He shakes his head, taking the last bite of his food and tossing the tray into the trash we walk by.

“Savannah is convinced this is a dream I’ll never reach. That I’m wasting my time.”

“Fuck Savannah.” He frowns. “Sorry,” I mutter. “But seriously. I’d say that about anyone. It is your dream, Austen, meaning you should chase it. Don’t let anyone hold you back from what you want to do.”

“You make it sound so easy,” he says, sliding his left hand into his pocket.

“It is easy.” I finish my food and dump the tray into another can we pass. “You just have to do it.”

“Maybe for you.”

I take his right hand, linking our fingers together. “Well, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. How can I help?”

Austen stops walking, causing people behind us to groan and curse. He pulls me to the side so we aren’t blocking anyone.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I’m just… I don’t understand how everything with you is so easy. How I’m here and I’m happy and free. But my life isn’t like this, Cameron.”

“It can be,” I urge. “It always could have been. If you’d just…”

My words trail off because I don’t want to upset him. I don’t want to hurt his feelings or cause a fight. I don’t want to force him into choosing me. I can’t convince him to do that. It won’t be real if I have to do that…

“If I what?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.” He grips my shirt, pulling me closer. “Please, tell me.”

“You know what I’m going to say.”

“Say it anyway,” he pleads, his voice barely a whisper. He looks up at me with cloudy blue eyes, imploring my gaze.

“If you’d have picked me.”

His eyes search mine, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking or how he feels about that. It’s too late to go back now, and of course he knows this is what I’ve thought all these years. Why I was so angry. He’s not stupid.

There’s a thick silence between us, but his gaze holds mine.

“What about now?” he asks, his words breathless.

“What?”

He reaches his free hand out, settling his palm on my neck. He doesn’t move it, just rests it there. “Can I pick you now?” he asks, his words firm. “Or am I too late?”

Fuck, is this really happening? Is he like… saying he wants to be with me for real? That this isn’t just some secret love affair rendezvous thing, but that we could actually be together?

I’ve waited so long to hear those words, convinced it would never happen. That it was nothing more than a fantasy.

His thumb moves slowly along my neck as he slides his fingers towards the nape of my neck, the edges of his fingertips playing with the edges of my hair.

“It’ll never be too late, Austen. Never.”