Page 75 of Merry & Bright
Cam found himself defaulting to his habitual answer to that question.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
In Cam’s experience, that was usually enough of an answer for anyone, but Rob looked unconvinced and when Cam tried a reassuring smile, his frown deepened.
“No, you’re not,” Rob said. He closed the space between them in a few short strides, stopping just in front of Cam and paused there a moment, his gaze searching. Then he reached out, curving his hands over the roundness of Cam’s naked shoulders, stroking the warm skin with slow sweeps of his thumbs.
Cam felt pinned in place by Rob’s attention. Couldn’t escape the feeling that Robsawhim.
“Are you regretting what we just did?” Rob asked quietly.
“I’mnot, no!” Cam exclaimed, his face warming a second later at how betraying his words were. Especially when he added, helplessly, “Are you?”
Rob looked almost comically bewildered at that. “No. Is that what you thought?”
Cam said nothing, just tracked the tiny changes in Rob’s expression, looking for clues as to what he was thinking. Rob was doing the same to him, their gazes locked together in a moment as intimate as when Rob had been inside him. There was a wondering look in Rob’s eyes and perhaps a hint of disbelief. And then, with just the tiniest creasing at the corners of those extraordinary eyes, it seemed to Cam that whatever questions Rob had had, they’d been answered because now he was doing that smiling-without-smiling thing, his gaze tender and affectionate.
“I don’t regret a thing, Cam,” he said. “I couldn’t be happier about what just happened. If you really want me to put it out there—what I’m thinking right now—I’ll tell you. I want more than just tonight. I want to do this again. Not just the sex, but all of it. The talking, the dinner, the getting to know each other.” He smiled then, his expression open and unafraid. “If you feel differently, that’s fine, but, that’s where I’m coming from. That’s howIfeel about what just happened.”
For a long moment, Cam just stared at Rob, blown away by his courage, by the way he’d just put himself out there, saying exactly what he thought
It was hard enough to say what you wanted in bed, like Cam had earlier. But this—saying you wanted another person, and for more than just sex—that was so much harder.
In that moment, it occurred to Cam that expressing desire, maybe even expressingneed, may not be a sign of weakness at all, but of strength. And that, sometimes—maybe—self-sufficiency might be its own kind of cowardice.
After all, he thought, remembering the landslide up on the Rest,even a mountain can’t keep itself together all the time.
Cam swallowed hard. “I want to do this again too,” he said. He settled his hands on Rob’s hips and moved closer, bringing their bodies into contact. “I want to see where this goes.”
Rob smiled then—fully. Not just with his eyes, but with his mouth too, lips curving and teeth flashing, and God, but it transformed him, that infectious grin. It made Cam’s own smile flash in response.
“That’s good,” Rob said firmly. “That’s very—good.” He slid his hand round the back of Cam’s neck, pulling him in for a quick, thorough kiss, then he drew back, still grinning. “Come on. It’s almost time for the Bells. Let’s see in the New Year together.”
Cam grinned back. “Let me grab the Champagne out of my rucksack. We might as well celebrate properly.”
***
ROB TUNED INTO A RADIOstation being broadcast live from the street party in the capital. It was a couple of minutes to the Bells and Cam was opening the Champagne, unscrewing the wire cage that kept the cork in place.
Once he’d wrestled it off, he took hold of the bottle and with one twist and a loud pop, the cork was out, the wine spilling over in a rush of foam.
“Come on,” Rob said once the fizz was poured. “Let’s go and look out over the water.”
He took Cam’s hand and led him into the dark conservatory. Over the radio waves, the sound of the busy crowds in the city sounded almost unreal. Happy screams and blaring music and a building anticipation of the excitement to come—the fireworks and the kissing and the Bells themselves. But here, on the quiet banks of the loch, a few miles away from the tiny village of Inverbechie, there was nothing like that. Only the silence, and the darkness, and the quiet loch.
And Cam.
Cam, standing at his side. A man who, just days ago, Rob would have crossed the street to avoid.
It had stopped snowing now, though a thin layer of white carpeted the ground. The snow shone, bright in the darkness, and now that the clouds had passed, the sky was clear.
“It’s almost midnight!”the announcer on the radio shouted over the roar of the crowd.“Here we go: ten, nine, eight...”
Rob glanced at Cam. “Almost there,” he murmured. As dark as it was, the brightness of the snow outside threw a little light their way, enough that he could make out the angular line of Cam’s jaw, the gleam of his eyes, and, when Cam smiled, the glint of those even teeth.
“...three, two, one!”
The first toll of the clock bells over the radio waves was deep and resonant and an explosion of fireworks followed straight after. All the sounds and none of the sights. The sky above the loch remained densely black, pierced only by a few silver pins, while far away, above Edinburgh, fireworks exploded in every colour.