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Chapter Forty-One

Austen

Ten days. It’s been ten days since I showed up on Cameron’s doorstep, a broken man.

Lost. Since he came out into the rain and brought me home, where I belong.

It’s only been ten days, but it feels like an eternity. An eternity full of laughter, city exploration, perfect kisses, lazy mornings full of cuddling, and downright amazing sex.

But in two days, I have to leave.

I have to go home to my life, or what’s left of it.

Savannah hasn’t texted or called me since I left, which says a lot.

A part of me thought after a few days she’d call to rub salt in my wounds, but she hasn’t even done that. Either she’s really swamped with work, or she doesn’t care about my feelings. I should probably accept it’s the latter, because after being with Cam, I know what it feels like to have someone actually care about me.

Married couples fight, I know that. Savannah and I have been fighting for years now, and it’s only gotten worse. Or not worse, since our fights don’t mean anything anymore. It’s like neither of us has the energy to really care. It’s a normal part of us.

I wipe up the counter, my wedding band catching the light, my stomach flipping with anxiety.

I can’t stay here forever, no matter how badly I want to. Because Savannah is my wife.

Glancing up, I look out Cam’s giant window, taking in the view. It really is breathtaking up here, like a world away from the world.

I stop for a moment, appreciating it for how beautiful it truly is.

Then I feel familiar warm hands on my hips, soft kisses on my throat, and I close my eyes.

“You sure you don’t want to come with me?” Cam breathes against my neck, the heat of his breath making my skin prickle with goosebumps. His arms encircle me as he holds me against him. Without thinking, my entire body relaxes in his hold.

I open my eyes, gazing at the city.

“No, I’m good,” I say, swallowing hard. My stomach flips as I debate whether or not to tell him about my meeting with Margo today. Oddly enough, she texted to meet so we could sign all the official paperwork, and it just so happened the time she wanted to meet was during the time Garrett wanted to meet up with Cam. Something about preparations for his upcoming shoot.

Dior. Fucking Dior.

I’ve seen those ads. They are always hot, and they are everywhere. On billboards, in magazines, all over social media.

It’s a huge opportunity. This… it could be a huge break for him. Make his career.

Suddenly, I tense.

What if his career takes off even more after this? What if this, us—what if it’s just a blip on his radar?

“You okay?” he asks, hands trailing up my sides.

I don’t want to be just a blip on his radar.

I don’t want to be like the other guys who didn’t last, but can I really have this?

What does this even look like?

I think about lying, because it’s what I’ve always done when people ask if I’m okay.

But when Cam asks me, I can never lie. He sees through the lies, so I don’t bother trying.

“No,” I say as he holds me tighter. His hand slides over mine, heating up the metal of my ring from his palm.

“Can I help?” he asks, his voice strangely soft. Loving.

“Just…” My voice is barely a whisper as the hurricane of panic starts to build.

I don’t want to lose this. I don’t want to lose him.

“Just hold me like this for a little longer?” I ask. “I know you have to go, but—”

“No, I don’t,” he says, whispering in my ear. “I can call Garret right now and—”

I shake my head.

“No, you need to go. It’s fine, I’ll be…” I let out a sigh. “I’ll be fine.”

Turning in his arms, I gaze up at his bright grey eyes.

“Seriously. Go.”

His expression is careful as he regards me, and for a minute, I think he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he leans in and kisses me softly. My entire body responds, from my pounding heart to my twitching cock.

He makes me feel invincible. Alive.

I deepen our kiss as the words fall out of my mouth without warning.

“I love you,” I breathe, only realizing once he tenses that I’ve actually said them.

Anxiety hits like a brick, because I hadn’t meant to.

Shit.

I mean, I do. Love him. I’ve always loved him, but not in the way I love him now.

Definitely not like I love him now…

“I’m sorry, I—” I barely get the words out before his hands are on my face, before his mouth is on mine.

His lips move hurriedly against mine, as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear.

My hands slide up his chest until my arms wrap around his neck and I pull him closer. I tangle my fingers in the edges of his hair, his sandalwood scent filling my lungs.

I love him.

I love him so fucking much and I want to stay here forever. In his arms.

“I love you, too, Austen,” he says softly. “Always have. And I’m so fucking glad you’re here.”

He leans his forehead against mine, and for a moment, it’s quiet. One glance at the clock over the stove tells me we both need to get going.

“You’re going to be late for your meeting,” I tell him.

I think he’s going to argue for a moment, tell me he’s changed his mind.

“I’ll text you when I get out,” he says. I nod in response.

“Okay.”

I push him away lightly, hating to see him go, but we can’t stay here and make out in his kitchen all morning, no matter how badly I want that.

I finish wiping up the counter and walk him to the door.

He stops, looking back at me, giving me a soft smile, and then he leaves.

I turn around, taking in the sight of his apartment, realizing for the first time in ten days I’m completely alone.

It’s strange. I’ve lived most of the last six years practically alone.

You’d think I’d be perfectly fine with it. But there’s a sort of emptiness without Cameron. It’s different.

I make my way to his bedroom, my gaze falling on his unmade bed.

The sheets are a tangled mess, from our rolling around in them all morning. Even now as I look at them, I can imagine his body, lying there, naked, fists gripping the sheets while I bury myself inside him. I can still hear him moaning my name.

But I can also see myself tangled up in his arms, my leg between his as I breathe him in. I can see my arm draped over his hip as he sleeps soundly.

Even without him here, he’s still here. All around me.

I pull on a fresh shirt and a pair of chinos. The nagging desire to make the bed is prevalent, but I leave it.

I don’t want to erase the work of art our bodies made.

So for now, I’ll leave it, and perhaps later we can erase it and make something new.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Brewer,” Margo says as she collects the papers, filing them and then bundling them in her arms. “I’ll be right back.”

I watch as she leaves the office, expecting to feel panic or anxiety, but I feel none of that.

When she comes back, she holds out a single silver key, attached to a dingy I Love NY keychain.

My gaze settles on the small silver key.

I started my life with a key, given to me by my parents. The memory of that night, my wedding night resurfaces and I try to shove it down, but I can’t.

And now, I see it differently than I remember.

The flowers that adorned my sidewalk weren’t ones I picked.

The pillow on the rocking chair on my porch was placed there by my mom.

The house was mostly furnished, waiting for Savannah and I to just… begin.

It was meant to be the key to the next chapter of my life. I was supposed to be unlocking possibilities. Success, a family of my own.

But none of that came, no matter how hard I tried to make it a reality, convinced everyone would see me as a failure.

Because I felt like one.

I grab the key from her hands, realizing that this is the key I was truly waiting for.

It won’t happen overnight, I know that. It’ll take at least a year to bring the building to where it needs to be before I can start the company up and put an actual team together.

Which means I’ll have to commute a lot for next year to oversee all the work, but knowing Cam is here… it makes it a little easier to swallow.

But as soon as the excitement fades, I’m hit with a much harsher truth.

I’m going to have to move. I’m going to have to live here. In New York.

Maybe not right away, but once BrewTech is up and running, I will need to live here.

The air leaves my lungs as I stare at the key.

Is this what risk feels like? Terrifying and exciting?

Am I making a terrible choice? Do I want to be this close to Cameron if things don’t work out… Well, I don’t have a choice now, do I?

I offer Margo a smile as I close my hand around the key and shove it in my pocket.

“Thank you,” I say as she smiles. “It was a pleasure.”

She nods as she heads the opposite direction. “I’ll email you over a copy of your paperwork in the next forty-eight hours or so,” she says.

I nod in response as I exit the building. The temperature has shifted and it’s a little chilly, but my sport jacket is enough for the time being.

I take in the sight for a moment, of the busy street and it hits me.

This is the next chapter of my life.

Turning my dream into a reality.

But it’s not all about BrewTech, not really.

I bought this building because he thought it was perfect. Because he’s here.

It’s a gesture. A risk.

Because it’s not just about the properties, it’s about the possibilities.

It’s a step towards the life I want. The life I want with… him.

I told him I loved him. I hadn’t meant to, it just sort of fell out of my stupid mouth, but it wasn’t untrue. And then he shocked the hell out of me and said it back.

He said it back. Maybe it’s not such a risk after all.

Maybe when I tell him the truth, he’ll be excited. Because this building can be something we can build together. He’s the only other person in the world who believes in this dream, after all.

My phone goes off in my pocket, pulling my attention. I grab it, expecting Cam, but that’s not the text I see. It's from Alex.

Did you get abducted by aliens or something?

My heart stops, my blood chilling.

I knew this would happen eventually. I’ve been gone almost two weeks, which means I’ve missed not one, but two Brewer Family Golf Outings. That itself is suspicious.

No.

Slowly, I start to walk along the street, watching as my brother responds.

Then where are you, man?

The fact he doesn’t know means Savannah hasn’t said anything to my family, and I’m not sure if I should be happy about that or pissed.

The fact she hasn’t said anything also tells me she doesn’t give a shit. But she accused me of coming here for Cam—and while she may be right—I guess she wouldn’t want to give anyone any ideas. Or maybe she’s just so embarrassed of me and what our life has become that she doesn’t want anyone to think we could possibly be having problems.

New York.

Part of me worries that telling him isn’t a good idea. My brother is a gossip hound. Sometimes I think he’s worse than Savannah in the drama department.

We’ve never been all that close, mostly because he’s an annoying asshole who loves to be in the spotlight every chance he gets, but I guess that’s to be expected when you’re a professional hockey player.

Still, if he’s texting me, he must be worried, which that itself is concerning. And I guess we are a little closer now that we’re older, and since he came home to recover from his injury.

This is all just another reminder that soon enough, I’ll have to return home.

Home.

I’m still not sure where that truly is, but the key in my pocket tells me I’m getting warmer.

Wtf are you doing in NY?

There’s a strange desire in me to tell him the truth.

To tell someone.

I haven’t told Cam, and I’m still not sure how to tell him. It’s not the what I’m worried about. It’s the why.

Cam doesn’t like grand gestures, and this is sort of a grand gesture, even though it’s not entirely for him. He’s a big part of it.

Because I want him to be a part of my future.

I don’t know how any of it will work, but…

Isn’t that the crux of a risk, anyway? You do it even if there’s a chance it’ll crash and burn, because there’s the chance that it won’t?

There’s the chance that it'll blossom and become something so much better—something worth it.

I tap out my response.

I bought a building. For BrewTech.

That should be safe enough, for now.

No shit! Congrats!

I don’t know what I was expecting from Alex, but excitement was not it.

Maybe he’s drunk. Or maybe he’s just been whacked in the head too many times from all the fights he gets in on the ice.

Who knows.

But for some reason his response makes me smile. Genuinely.

Thanks!

How long you staying?

Two more days, then I’ll be home.

A sense of panic rushes through me as I realize he might say something to my parents.

Or Savannah.

So I quickly tap out another text.

Can you keep that between us for now? I haven’t told anyone else yet.

I bite my lower lip, hoping this tidbit won’t cause him to blab my business to everyone in a five mile radius.

He responds with the zipper-mouth emoji.

You got it, bro.

The smile that crosses my face is one of relief. And strangely, warm.

It feels good to tell someone, even if that someone is my brother, and I can’t deny just saying it–or texting it—makes me feel even more excited.

I bought a building!

My boyfriend—yes, that is what I’m calling him even if he doesn’t know it—just scored a mega gig modeling his fine ass for fucking Dior.

Everything is so fucking perfect. I feel like my life is finally beginning.

The life I’ve always wanted.

This definitely calls for a celebration.

I get in my Uber, immediately googling the best restaurants in the city.

While I’d love nothing more than to whip up a gourmet meal from scratch, I know Cam likes to go out to eat, and we haven’t really done a lot of that while I’ve been here.

He’s adapted to my routines and put up with my sightseeing every day since I arrived. As much as I’ve loved every minute of it, I know it’s not what he usually does, and therefore I want to be able to do something for him.

He’s done so much more for me. He always has.

I know he’ll probably bitch about the price of the place I picked, but I don’t care.

Tonight I’m treating my boyfriend to a perfect Parisian meal, with a bottle of champagne, and then I’m going to take him home and let him fuck my brains out. Then I’m going to do the same to him.

Yeah, this is officially the best day ever.

I stop at a cart on the way back to his apartment and buy the prettiest bouquet of deep sprayed purple roses.

Purple is his favorite color.

He hasn’t texted yet, so I know he’s still tied up with Garrett, and as such I take my time. Our reservations aren’t until seven thirty, so there’s plenty of time to surprise him, get ready, and maybe get him off somewhere in between.

Thankfully, after the fifth day here, Cam was able to get me a keycard so I wouldn’t have to keep texting him to be let up.

At the time, it just felt like it was a good idea, logistically, but now…

Now it feels like more.

Like I have a key to his fucking place, which isn’t that weird in itself. Plenty of friends have keys to their friends’ houses or apartments.

But giving your girlfriend or boyfriend a key to your place… it’s different. No one had ever done that for me before, because I married my third girlfriend before I graduated college.

I never got to experience dating and getting a key to someone’s place, and that was okay, I was fine with that.

But as I walk up to Cam’s apartment, a bouquet full of roses in one arm and a bottle of Macallan in the other, something about being able to do this just makes it feel more real, I guess.

The apartment is just as I left it. No sign of Cam. Good.

I look everywhere in his place for a vase, but of course, he doesn’t have one.

So I grab a long, slender drinking glass, some kitchen shears, and trim the flower stems myself once I fill the glass with water. I expertly arrange the bottle of Macallan next to them, smiling at my handiwork before I head into the shower to get ready.

When I get out, I see a text from Cam lighting up my screen.

On my way

I shoot him back a thumbs up, pull out my dress pants and a silk button down. Thank God I packed some fancy clothes just in case. Not that I couldn’t have bought something while I’m up here if I needed it, but it just goes to show you can never be too prepared when packing.

I’m just running the mousse through my hair when I hear the door shut. I glance at the clock. It’s a little past four.

“Hey,” he calls out, his voice trailing off, and I know he sees my gifts. I make my way out to the kitchen to see him standing at the island, running his fingers over the petals.

“Hey,” I say, leaning against the fridge. I cross my arms, which makes my rolled up sleeves tight, but they show off the muscles I know he likes.

“Hey…” His gaze roves over me, taking me in. I know I look good tonight, and that’s the point.

I want to look so good he can’t stand it. I want to get him so fucking hard and flustered he won’t be able to resist me.

With the way he’s looking at me, I’m on the right track.

“What’s all this?” he asks, his voice slightly raspy.

“This…” I say smoothly, “is for you landing your biggest gig yet.” I grin.

Cam’s shoulders loosen, his eyebrows furrow, and he looks like he’s about to cry.

But I can’t have that. Not yet, anyway. We haven’t even had dinner yet.

I move away from the fridge and approach him.

“You didn’t have to do anything—”

I stop in front of him, imploring his gaze. “I wanted to,” I tell him.

I run my hands up his chest, feeling the solidness beneath my fingers. I slide one hand up his neck, gripping his throat while the other holds his hip. His pulse hitches and I smile.

“But that’s not all,” I tell him.

Cam lets out a chuckle, but it sounds almost sad. Like he really is going to cry.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

He’s quiet for a minute and I wonder if he is. If I should shift tactics and maybe put on a movie or—

“Yeah. I’m good,” he says as he leans in and kisses me. Hard.

I’m a bit taken aback at first, but quickly fall into step. I kiss him back with equal fervor, sliding my tongue into his mouth. He grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls it, making me groan in satisfaction.

Fuck, I love when he does that.

And so does my cock.

I break away for a moment, and he softens his grip. His thumb strokes the back of my neck as he breathes out a raspy, gravelly, “What else could there possibly be?”

I pull him against me, which makes my back flush with the counter. He settles his hands on both sides of me, boxing me in.

His cock twitches against my thigh, making my own throb. But with the weight of him on me and the counter pressing against my back, I can’t move all that well.

“Dinner,” I say. “I made reservations.”

Cam’s head drops and he laughs. “Of course you did.”

When he looks up at me, the sad, wistful eyes are gone, replaced by the ones I know best.

Mischievous, sexy, stormy.

“You deserve it,” I tell him, and it’s true. I watch his expression shift as he runs his hand along my hip, slowly caressing it over my ass. I squeeze his neck lightly, feeling that kick of his pulse again.

I know this has always been a point of contention with him. Even when we were younger, he didn’t think he deserved nice things. But he’s built himself a life full of those things, all which he’s worked so hard for.

He does deserve good things. He deserves the best things.

Because he’s the best thing in the world to me. He always has been.

“Austen…” His voice is weak, tinged with so much emotion I can barely keep myself together. But I have to.

Because I can’t crumble underneath him yet. Not yet.

“You are going to put on your prettiest fucking suit and you are going to let me buy you dinner—”

He looks as if he’s going to protest, but I put a finger to his lips, shaking my head.

“You are going to let me buy you dinner, and don’t even think about ordering a salad.”

He laughs, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“And then you get your real present,” I tease.

Cam’s grip on my hip tightens, his fingers digging into my skin through the fabric of my shirt.

“Oh really?” he asks. “What’s that?”

I kiss him, savoring the taste of his tongue, of his mouth.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” I tell him, and with that I push him away, and head for the couch. I relax on the couch, queuing up a movie.

I lean back and relax, but it doesn’t last, because a minute later Cam is pushing me into the couch, unbuttoning my shirt, and biting my nipples until I curse.

My cock throbs and I thrust against him. He presses his body on top of mine, into the couch, pinning me with his weight until I can’t move.

“Cam…” I murmur his name, my cock needing to feel friction, but I can’t move. All the words get lost in my throat as his hands find my pants, my erection, and he deftly works at unbuttoning them.

He wastes no time in tearing my pants off, dropping to his knees between my legs.

He doesn’t grab me right away, instead he looks me over, chest to abs to cock and back up at my face.

I think he’s going to praise my body again, tell me I look good or that he finds my body hot.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he just takes me into the back of his throat in one swift motion, grabbing my hips and yanking me closer.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get over how good his mouth feels around my cock. Warm, tight, wet, and fucking amazing.

My cock throbs and I can feel my orgasm starting to build almost immediately.

“Cameron…” I breathe his name. It tastes so good on my tongue, like the finest delicacy.

I thrust up into his mouth once, and it’s over.

I thread my fingers through his hair, gripping the locks softly as I gently push him down on my cock as I come with a deep groan.

I should be embarrassed that he was able to make me come so fast, but I’m not.

My breath catches in my throat as the words find their way out of my mouth again.

“I love you.”

Cameron chuckles. “I know.”

A laugh escapes my throat, and it feels so good. Everything feels so good. Perfect.

He gets up, leaving me like a limp noodle on the couch as I try to catch my breath. He brings me a wet rag, that smirk on his face a balm to my soul. I take the rag and clean myself up as he saunters off down the hallway.

“Be ready by six-forty-five,” I tell him weakly, trying to catch my breath.

“So fucking bossy,” he says, but his voice is full of humor and love.