Page 7 of Santino (The Camboy Network #4)

CHAPTER

SIX

SANTINO

Um… what just happened? Hayden went from totally cool—or at least, he looked fine—to so incredibly sad I could feel it radiating off him, to freaking out and running away.

I hope it wasn’t something I said. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked for coffee?

I scan the empty kitchen and out toward the empty living room, feeling like an intruder in someone else’s home.

Hayden said I could help myself to whatever, but that feels wrong.

Like, the dude is dealing with something and I’m supposed to just make myself at home in his apartment? That’s like, rude, right?

Should I check on him and make sure he’s okay? Maybe there’s something I can help him with. Maybe I should call one of the guys, just in case.

Or maybe I should mind my own fucking business.

I’ve known the guy for like, what? Eighteen hours?

What the hell do I know about what he’s going through?

Maybe he’s already getting all the help he needs and the last thing he wants is another person invading his privacy.

I’m already intruding on his space, the least I can do is give the guy some room to breathe.

I pour myself a cup of coffee from the French press, take a sip, and let out a moan. Hayden was right. This is really damn good coffee. Rich and fragrant and the perfect hit of caffeine.

Coffee cup in hand, I wander out to the living room.

The two big windows overlook the street.

One of them has an air conditioning unit installed, but the other window opens easily when I tug on it.

It opens onto a fire escape with a metal staircase running diagonally up and down to the other floors.

I squeeze myself through the window and take a seat on the stairs. The morning air is starting to turn warm and muggy with the rising sun. The sounds of birds chirping and dogs barking mix with the car traffic and sirens. Pedestrians powerwalk along the sidewalk below me.

The city feels alive all around me, the air vibrating with energy and possibility. My stomach twists with nervousness and hope. I really, really want this trip to work out.

This documentary isn’t the type of thing The Camboy Network usually does, but that’s okay. I’ll take whatever I can get. And if I can manage to impress them, maybe they’ll ask me to do the other type of project too. Maybe I could become one of them, one of the camboys.

The idea is as terrifying as it’s exciting.

I’ve done a few videos on my own before.

Nothing fancy. Just jerking off while pointing my phone at my dick.

I’ve never shown my face or anything—I was too nervous to do that.

But there was something about recording myself and knowing other people would see that had me nutting in seconds.

I wonder if it’ll feel the same with a full-on video with another guy.

My brain immediately conjures up an image of me and Hayden.

Naked. Sweaty. His cock deep inside my ass.

I’ve seen enough of his videos to know he’s hung.

I mean, he’s a big guy, so that isn’t surprising.

I’m usually pretty meh about bottoming, but I’d bend over for that snake of his. In a heartbeat.

I peek back through the window. No sign of Hayden.

Even if I can convince Sebastian to put me in a porn video, I doubt he’d match me with Hayden. Hayden’s one of the originals. He’s too big a deal to waste on a video with me. Sebastian would probably want me to do a solo video first. See how I do on my own before pairing me up with someone.

It’s a little disappointing, to be honest. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a crush on Hayden.

Can you blame me? Just look at him with his sculpted body and blond hair and green eyes.

And that was before I even met him. Now that I know about all the library books stacked around the apartment, the fully-stocked kitchen and fridge filled with ingredients I’ve never seen before in my life, the gourmet coffee made from locally roasted, Colombian fair-trade beans…

he’s so much more than a pretty face. Come on, how can I resist?

But I need to set my expectations realistically. Sure, it’s nice to daydream about getting railed by Hayden, but I shouldn’t ask for too much. I’m new here. I need to prove I’m worth their time.

And also… the guy might not be okay. So maybe face-casting him with his dick in my ass isn’t really that appropriate.

I finish the coffee and climb back into the apartment. In my room, there’s a notification on my phone’s home screen. It’s a voice message from Mom. My stomach sinks. Shiiit.

She’s going to be so upset when she finds out I took off to the other side of the country without telling her. She’s going to take it personally, like I didn’t want her to know because I’m trying to run away from her. But it isn’t like that at all.

I wanted to tell her. I’m terrible at keeping secrets and I’m an even worse liar. But she wouldn’t understand why I need to do this.

My whole family has always lived within a twenty-minute drive from each other.

My parents, my two older sisters, grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins and so many nieces and nephews, I’ve lost count.

Half of them have worked for my dad’s pool maintenance company at one point or another.

None of them has any desire to move away or try anything new.

They’re all content with living the same life as everyone else around them.

I don’t want that though. I want something more. Something bigger.

I tried explaining it to Mom once and she accused me of wanting to abandon her.

She’s never really dealt with loss well, but it got a lot worse after Grandma died.

After that, Mom clings to all of us like we’ll disappear into thin air if she doesn’t see us at least once a week.

I mean, I get it. None of us wants to relive that year when she was deep in depression.

But like… does that mean I don’t get to live the life I want either?

My phone buzzes again. Mom with another voice message. Fuck. I can’t listen to it right now, not when it’s still ass-crack early on the West Coast. She’ll see I read the message and she knows I would never be up this early at home. Hell, I’m surprised I’m up this early right now.

A bang comes from Hayden’s room. Like he tripped and fell or dropped something heavy. I’m at his door before I can think better of it, my protective instincts overriding whatever I’ve told myself about giving the guy space.

“Hayden?” I call out while knocking. “You okay?”

There are a few muffled curses before he responds. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

I hesitate. My gut tells me something’s wrong. “I heard a loud bang. Are you hurt?”

I hear him scrambling on the other side of the door and then it opens.

He holds onto the edge, leaning on the door as if he needs the support to stay standing.

There’s a haunted look in his eyes and he can’t quite keep my gaze.

His eyes flick up to mine, then away, then back, then away.

He’s smiling, but the expression looks strained, like he’s putting it on for my sake. Like he’s putting on a brave face.

“Sorry. I just, um, hit my toe against the… thing.” He waves vaguely behind him. “But I’m okay. Seriously. Thanks for checking on me.”

I cock an eyebrow. “Do you want me to scold the… thing for you? For being in the way of your toe?”

He blinks, staring blankly at me for a moment before he catches on that I’m teasing.

His smile softens and the corners of his eyes crinkle just a bit.

His chin drops to his chest in an adorably shy move.

“No, it was my fault. I left a bag of books in the middle of the floor. It’s not like it could grow legs and move out of my way. ”

My worry eases as he plays along. “Ugh, those books are so inconsiderate. They should grow legs and move out of the way. Who do they think they are? This is your bedroom, amirite?”

He chuckles, barely audible, but a subtle vibration travels across the distance separating us and makes my skin tingle. My breath catches as he finally meets my gaze. His eyes are so green, I could stare into them all day.

“Thank you,” he murmurs quietly.

Maybe it’s just my imagination or perhaps it’s wishful thinking, but it feels like more than a simple show of gratitude.

“Yeah, no problem,” I reply, my voice a little breathy.

We gaze into each other’s eyes for a moment longer and it feels like yesterday afternoon in the kitchen when I thought Hayden was going to kiss me.

Like there’s some invisible force nudging us toward each other.

I thought maybe I’d imagined it, that my crush on the guy had me reading into things that weren’t there.

But I don’t think I was. I think there might be something there.

Hayden breaks eye contact first. “Did you… um, I know you said you only wanted coffee earlier, but would you like something to eat now?” There’s a note of uncertainty in his voice, like he’s bracing himself in case I turn him down.

I smile, my heart skipping a beat at his adorableness. “I heard you’re famous for your cooking.”

His eyes flick up to mine, wide with surprise, before he ducks his head again. “No, I mean, I can cook. I like cooking. But I wouldn’t say I’m famous for it.”

“That’s not what the guys say.”

Hayden seems to let that absorb for a moment, like he’s not sure if he believes me or he doesn’t think the guys would say something like that. Then he flashes me a hesitant smile and squeezes past me to head to the kitchen.

“Savory or sweet?” Hayden asks as he opens the fridge.

I don’t even need to think about it. “Sweet. Always sweet. Except if there’s bacon involved. Then always bacon.”

Hayden laughs softly and it makes me wonder what he would sound like when he really laughs. Like full body, throwing head back, laugh out loud without caring who hears. I have a feeling it would be awesome. Like a happiness bomb going off, sprinkling everything with glittery joy.

“Sweet and bacon. I can do that.” He starts pulling ingredients out of the fridge and the cupboards.

I recognize the flour, milk, eggs, and bacon, but I’m not entirely sure what everything else is. “What are you making?”

“Brown sugar bacon waffles,” he says as he lays out thick slices of bacon on a metal tray, as if this is something he makes every day.

“Brown sugar bacon waffles?” I repeat. “Have you made this before?”

Hayden shakes his head while sprinkling brown sugar over the bacon. “No, but I saw a recipe for it once. It was really simple.”

Simple. Right. Yeah. Except I absolutely cannot follow what he’s doing. If this is a simple recipe, with a dozen ingredients and multiple mixing bowls, I can’t imagine what a complicated recipe would look like.

He pops the tray into the oven and within a few minutes, the fatty scent of bacon starts filling the air. My stomach growls loudly in response. Hayden looks up from the big bowl of batter he’s mixing, eyes sparkling with amusement.

I give my stomach a loving pat. “Bro, you’re making bacon. My stomach is excited.”

He laughs a little louder than before and I feel like a fisherman with a tug on his line.

“What else makes your stomach excited?” he asks.

“Meat,” I answer immediately. “Any kind of meat. The greasier the better.”

Hayden shakes his head like he was expecting me to say that. “No veggies?”

“I mean, if you can make them taste like meat.”

He peeks up at me again, just for a second, as a smile flirts at his mouth. “You like the taste of meat, huh?” His gaze darts back up to me, like he’s checking if I got the joke.

Oh, I got it alright. Hayden Summers—looks like a Greek god, is a nerd at heart, and cracks dirty jokes like a twelve-year-old boy. “Mmm, especially sausages. Long and thick and juicy.”

His eyes go even wider and his lips curl into a shy, sheepish smile, as if I'm the one who started the dirty joke train. I didn’t, but now that I’m on it, I don’t plan on getting off.

“I like to see how much of the sausage I can fit into my mouth at once,” I say, fighting back the giggles.

Hayden’s lips twitch and his smile grows wider. “What about meatballs? You like those?”

“Oof, I get real messy with meatballs. I get them all over my face, you know? On my cheeks, on my chin, on my nose.”

Hayden snorts a laugh as I continue.

“But sausages and meatballs together. Now we’re talking. That’s a full-ass meal.”

Hayden slaps a hand over his mouth as laughter threatens to burst free. His shoulders shake as he tries to keep it in. I wish he didn’t do that. I wish he’d let it all out. I wish I could hear that bright, beautiful sound.

“A full-ass meal,” he repeats, wheezing. “Oh my god.”

“Mmhmm, if you’re cooking it, I’ll eat every damn bite.”