Page 12 of Hitched at Randy’s (Diner Days)
Twelve
Evan
P ieces of last night come to me as I’m waking up. My hands on Cam’s hips. His ass grinding into me until I was so hard it was probably indecent. Our lips pressing together. I’ve fucked things up. I can’t say right now if I wish it’d never happened or if I wish I would’ve kept kissing him, but this in-between where I kissed him and then called the whole thing off is worse than either of those choices. I blink my eyes open, and fortunately, Cam’s side of the bed is empty. He’s not here to watch me over analyze last night. I stretch out, taking in that I’m still wearing last night’s clothes. I guess I didn’t see the point in undressing when we got back last night.
I follow my nose and the smell of coffee to find Cam in the kitchen. His back is to me as he shuffles around in front of the stove, cooking. I’m not sure what he’s making, but coffee is a must. “Morning,” I call out, announcing that I’m here.
“Morning. There’s coffee in the carafe for you,” he says with a vague wave of his hand in the direction of the coffee maker. I grab a mug and pour my coffee, adding cream and sugar before I lean against the counter and take a drink.
“So, you’re bi, huh?” Cam asks. “Why didn’t I know that?”
I nearly choke on my coffee. “Uh, I don’t know. It never really came up. I mean, I hooked up with guys in college, but none of it was ever serious. Dated one guy for a couple weeks. Never had a reason to tell you, I guess. It didn’t seem important in the grand scheme of things. Then I got with Vi and, well,” I shrug not really knowing what else to say.
“Okay,” Cam says, taking the news in stride. “Well, we have our appointment with the lawyer later this morning. I guess after that we can figure out a more permanent place for you. Maybe look at apartment listings or something.” He isn’t looking at me but the tone of his voice drops as he says the last part.
“Oh yeah, sorry for dropping that on you while I was drunk. I didn’t mean to make it your problem.”
Cam shrugs, grabbing plates from the cabinet. He loads the French toast he was making onto the plates and turns around to look at me. “Come on, let’s eat. Carbs make everything better. Speaking of, how are you feeling?”
“I’m fine,” I answer. I might have a slight bit of a headache, but it’s no big deal. I’ve had worse. We take our seats at the table, and I’m struggling to think of something to say. “I’m sorry I kissed you. I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s fine,” Cam shrugs it off. “What’s a kiss between best friends, right? It’s probably more surprising that we haven’t kissed before this.” His whole attitude seems like he’s forcing himself to stay upbeat, but I don’t call him out on it.
“Right,” I answer. “I mean, technically we did kiss before. At the wedding,” I remind him.
“Yeah, that. Again, doesn’t really count. We were drunk,” Cam says with a dismissive wave of his fork.
I have to fight the urge to offer to kiss him now, just to see if it still feels as good as it did last night. Instead of saying anything, I shove a piece of French toast in my mouth. Talking about kisses is probably pointless when we’re on our way to talk to a divorce lawyer. We need to be focused on clearing up this little drunken mistake, not prolonging it. I take a drink of coffee, trying to think about something other than how gorgeous Cam looked last night in those skin-tight jeans.
“Right, well, as unfortunate as all of this is, I’m afraid we need to wait a little longer before we can get started on the divorce. The paperwork is still processing, and you don’t even have an official wedding certificate yet,” Mrs. Aitchison tells us. “We can set everything up so that when it goes through, we’ll be ready.”
“Thank you,” Cam says. He’s led most of the conversation with the lawyer, not deterred by this little hiccup. I don’t know what to think. I’d hoped all of this would be easy to clear up and I’d be back on my way to California. Guess my trip has been extended, and I can’t find it in me to be upset that it means staying with Cam longer.
We finish up what we can, signing and agreeing to pay the fees associated with the divorce, but with the delay, it could be another week or two. “Maybe we should figure out a better sleeping arrangement for you,” Cam says. “I mean, it looks like you’re not going anywhere just yet.”
“Right,” I answer. As confusing as what’s going on with Cam is, it’s been nice the last few nights sharing a bed. I was thinking of looking at some new apartments back in California online this afternoon, but that won’t change anything here. “Maybe we can get an air mattress or something,” I suggest. There should be room in the living room for that.
“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Cam agrees. The mood as we drive back to his apartment is stilted, like neither of us knows what to say.
When we walk in the door, I go for my bag, grabbing my laptop and heading for the couch. I pull up a webpage, doing a search for apartments in the same area I lived with Viola. Cam leans over the couch, looking over my shoulder. “Wow, are you going to be able to afford those prices on your own?” he asks.
He’s got a good point. Part of the reason I can afford the apartment I’m in was Viola paying her share of the rent. California isn’t cheap, but I doubt prices in Boston are much better. “I’ll figure it out,” I tell him.
“Sorry, I’ll let you get back to that.” Cam walks off to his office, leaving the door open slightly.
I let out a sigh. I didn’t mean to sound dismissive, but Cam has a point that I’m not ready to face. I might need to find a roommate or something. The sound of music comes drifting out of Cam’s office and for a moment, I let the soothing beat wash over me. Would it be terrible to look at Boston apartments? Just to see what options there are … but looking for a place in Boston would mean I need a new job. Can I find a position before school starts in August?
Thoughts whirl around my head, and I pull up another tab on my internet browser. I won’t know if I don’t even look. I start with a job search, looking for teaching positions available in the area. A few catch my attention and when I click the listing, I notice the pay rate. It’s slightly more than I’m making now. I’d have to jump a few hoops to get my credentials set up, but it’d be doable. It doesn’t hurt to apply. It doesn’t mean I’ll get the job. I might not even get an interview. I’m just broadening my options.
My mind made up, I fill out the application and attach my resume. That done, I look at a few other listings, filling out two more that sound promising. There, now it’s out of my hands. If I get a job in the area, I can look at apartment listings or maybe stay with Cam or my parents until I figure something out. After all, with Viola out of the picture, I might as well get a fresh start. I mostly stayed in Sacramento because of her and now, well, I’ve missed Boston.
I close the laptop, setting it on the coffee table. Cam’s been in his office the whole time I’ve been filling out applications, the music still flowing out the partially open door. I walk over, pushing the door to peek inside. Cam stands in front of an easel with a paintbrush in his hand. His entire focus is on the canvas as he paints smooth strokes. For a moment, I get caught up in watching him. The way Cam moves along with the music and his paintbrush glides across the canvas. He hasn’t even noticed I’m in the room, and I feel like I’m intruding on something private.
I knock on the door frame, and Cam turns to look at me. “It’s almost lunch. Did you wanna eat something?” I ask.
“Is it that late already?” Cam asks. “I must have gotten distracted.”
That makes two of us, I think to myself. “What are you working on?”
“Uh, nothing,” Cam says quickly. “I mean it’s uh, just something for, um, fun.”
Cam’s vague answer has my mind jumping to the conclusion it’s something sexy, but I shake that thought off. It’s fine if he doesn’t want to tell me. No big deal. Cam is allowed to have his secrets. Even if it’s something scandalous, like a painting of Ryan Reynolds naked.
“Lunch then?” he asks, changing the topic.
“Actually, maybe we can grab something while we’re out. I still need to get an air mattress,” I remind him.
“Right, let me just clean up, and we can head out.” He disappears into his room, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I know it’s for the best that we have separate sleeping arrangements, but I’m also going to miss being cuddled into Cam. Even if nothing happens, it was still nice to be next to him. It felt comfortable. More than I’ve had in a while.