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Chapter Fifty

Cameron

I feel like at this point in my life, and this entire back and forth with Austen, it’s do or die. I’m done wasting time. Maybe it’s presumptuous to think he’s inviting me up to his apartment for more than just looking at it, but that’s what I’m going with. The way the night has gone, the dinner, movie, the way he looks at me, our history? It all points in the right direction. And if it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck, it’s probably a fucking duck.

I don’t know where this will go with Austen. I don’t know if it’s a tonight-only thing, or if it’ll turn into a friends with benefits thing, or if maybe… maybe we will finally get our chance at a happily ever after. But I refuse, absolutely refuse, to give up this time.

We step inside his apartment.

“So, this is—”

I grab his face, kissing him deeply and walking him backwards until he hits the wall. He lets out a grunt, his hands coming up to grab my face and holds me still so he can kiss me back just as fiercely. My face burns from coming in from the cold, my lips a little numb, but they’ll warm up soon enough.

“Please tell me this is what you meant,” I breathe out, pressing my forehead to his.

“No,” he says with a shake of his head. My stomach drops, my spine stiffening.

I misread this… all of it. How the hell did I misread this?

“This is what I meant,” he says, reaching for the zipper of my jacket and undoing it, then slipping it off my shoulders. It falls to the ground and he goes for my shirt, pulling it up. His fingers are cold against my hot skin, but I try not to flinch away from him. I’ve missed his touch way too much, no matter how cold they are.

I snap out of my shock and my temporary fears, then go back at Austen just as hard as he’s coming at me. I tear his clothes off, and before I know it, we’re both naked. He moves to drop to his knees, but I stop him.

“No way,” I say, pressing him against the wall. He hisses, the wall is probably freezing. “Not that this is in any way an apology, but I do owe you one.”

“Cameron—” I cut him off by taking his dick in my mouth. “Fuck,” he groans, head thumping against the wall. His hand comes up to spear through my hair, holding me in place as he slowly thrusts into my mouth.

I missed the way he tastes, the way he feels, the way he smells. Fuck, I just missed him. Austen, my best fucking friend. The man I am so ridiculously in love with and have been for as long as I can remember. It used to suck, but hey, maybe this time it won’t be so bad.

I massage his balls as I take him deeply, letting him have his way with my mouth, reveling in the sounds he makes for me.

I release him, stroking him slowly. “Do you want to fuck me?”

“Later,” he grits out, fingers tightening in my hair. “Want your mouth right now. I’m already close, Cam. Make me come.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. Knowing he’s close, I double down and pull out all the moves to have him releasing down my throat in seconds. He slides down the wall to catch his breath, and I move to sit beside him, my dick achingly hard. The room is filled with our panting, the scent of him and a lingering smell of something sweet. Like maybe he had baked something recently.

“Fuck,” Austen says with a little laugh, rolling his head to look at me. I smile back at him. His eyes sparkle and then he moves between my legs, spreading them wide and dropping to take my dick into his mouth.

“Damn, Austen,” I growl. “Fuck.”

He deepthroats me, gagging, but that doesn’t stop him. Spit drips down my balls as he gives me the messiest blow job yet. It’s been a long time, a little over four months, actually, since my dick has been in anything other than my hand. It feels damn good. Even better because it’s Austen. I can’t believe I’m here, sitting on a kitchen floor, getting sucked off by Austen Brewer.

He moans around my dick, and I’m a goner.

“Austen,” I warn, pressing my hands flat to the floor. “I’m coming.”

He moans again, sucking even harder and I come so hard I think I’m going to pass out. He wastes no time crawling into my lap and kissing me, hand roaming all over my chest while mine find his hips. We keep that up for some time, until we have to stop and breathe because I feel lightheaded.

Austen gets up, offering me his hand and I get to my feet. We look at the mess of clothes on the floor, then at each other, then burst into laughter. I dig out my briefs and put them on while he goes somewhere, returning a moment later in a pair of sweats and offering me another pair. But before he hands them over, he tugs on my briefs.

“Take these off.” I raise a brow. “Sweats are so much sexier when I can see your dick bouncing around.”

“Fuck,” I growl out, kicking out of my underwear as quickly as I can before putting the sweats on. “So…” I continue with a grin. “Part three?”

Austen just grins, taking my hand. “Let me show you around.”

He gives me the grand tour, which doesn’t take long. It’s not a big place, but it doesn’t need to be. There’s an open concept living room and kitchen, with enough space for a small dining table. Then there is a bathroom and his bedroom, which is a decent size. I see things all over that scream Austen like his framed jerseys and various sketch pads stuffed into nearly every corner..

“This place is so nice, Austen,” I say when we make it back to the living room and sit on the couch.

“It’s okay. Nothing compared to your palace.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t even like that place.”

“Then why do you live there?”

“I don’t even know anymore. It’s funny, because that’s actually why I was at the festival.”

Austen chuckles. “Sorry to break it to you, Cam, but you can’t buy places to live at festivals.”

I give him a playful shove as he flips through movies on the TV.

“I’ve been going to the local festivals and galleries to buy artwork, hoping it’ll make the place feel more like home.”

“Did it work?” he asks, looking at me seriously.

“No. Not even a little.”

He gives me an understanding smile. “I know the feeling. Trying so hard to make something feel right, but no matter how much energy you put into it, it doesn’t work.”

I have a feeling he isn’t just talking about an apartment…

“Yeah,” I say, the word coming out a whisper. “Exactly like that.” I reach for his hand, linking our fingers. He looks down at them, then at me. “This okay?” I ask.

He smiles. “Of course.”

He keeps browsing through the movies with his free hand, nothing about him telling me that he’s uncomfortable here, but I feel like there’s an elephant in the room and I don’t think Austen’s the one who will bring it up.

“We should talk,” I say. He turns toward me, his face falling slightly.

“That’s probably a good idea.” He puts the remote down. “We going to need alcohol for this?”

I huff out a laugh. “Maybe we should wait. You know what happens when we drink.”

“Are you saying we won’t be fucking again?” He raises a brow. I don’t miss the hint of disappointment in his voice.

“I’m just saying we should talk first.”

“Okay, fine,” he says with a dramatic roll of his eyes. He sits to face me more. “Honestly, though, I think talking is good.”

I nod. “You know what I’m going to say, but I’m saying it anyway.” He nods. “I’m sorry for what happened. I kept something from you, something so important, and I shouldn’t have done that. I know that now and honestly, I knew it then. I was so stuck on not seeing you hurt. I was trying to protect you from it, and also… I was being selfish.”

“Selfish how?”

“Telling you about Savannah cheating would take you away from me. It would ruin the good thing we had.”

“It did that anyway.”

“Yeah, I know. Trust me, I’ve thought about it too much. I don’t know where you’re at on the whole thing, I just want you to know that I am sorry and I realize my mistake and if I could go back, I would do it differently.” I blow out a sharp breath, glad to finally have gotten that off my chest.

“Thank you for that. But also, I owe you an apology, too.”

“For what?”

“Everything. I didn’t make things easy for us. Not the first time, or the second time. I put you in impossible positions. Always made you second best, and that was extremely unfair. I can’t blame you for feeling the way you did, Cam, because I made you feel that way.”

I scratch the back of my neck. “So, we’re both sorry?” I say simply.

“Yeah, we are.”

“And we can… move on?”

Austen grins. “I’d like to.”

“As friends or…”

Austen’s grin widens. “I love when you’re all insecure.” My cheeks heat and he leans in to kiss me. His bright blue eyes hold my gaze as he licks his lips. “Cameron, I’d love nothing more than for us to be together. For you to be my boyfriend, and see where things go. I want us to have a real chance. Start with a clean slate, with nothing in the way.”

“I’d like that,” I breathe out, inching closer to Austen.

“Good,” he answers before leaning in the rest of the way and kissing me.

His body covers mine, and he thrusts against me, already hard and ready to go again. But this is how it is with us, how it was when we finally allowed ourselves to give in. What’s going to happen now that we have nothing standing in our way?