Page 74 of Show Me
I set my plate on the kitchen table and dropped into a seat next to him. “What’s up.”
Cam’s startled gaze cut toward me. “Huh?” I ticked my chin toward his knee. “Oh.” He forced himself to be still. “Nothing. I’m good.”
I studied him. “Are you having a…craving or something?” I didn’t know what the NA terminology was, and I sure as shit didn’t know how to support him if he was, but I’d try.
He shook his head. “Nah. Just got a lot on my mind. I’m not thinking about using, though,” he added quickly. “Promise. I’ve got a sponsor to call for that. And I haven’t had to call in months. I’m good, I swear.” He let out a slow breath. “I feel like that’s all I keep saying: I’m good, I’m fine. Blah, blah, blah. But I am.”
“So what’s on your mind, then?”
“Are you and Sam together?”
Fuck, was not prepared for that. Should’ve been but wasn’t. After all, Cam was the only one in the house not distracted by sports, booze, or currently punch-drunk on love, and Sam and Ihadgotten off eight feet from his head a few weeks ago. “Um, no?” Wait, that wasn’t supposed to have a question mark. Lee from statistics was rubbing off on me.
“So…you’re just hooking up, then?”
Double-wide trailer of fucks.
I squinted at Cam. When in doubt, stay quiet. That was challenging, though, because I wasn’t the quiet type. My tongue liked to flap even when my brain was on standby. “I…um…no. We’re not. We’re just—” I tapered off to regroup and organize. “What?” That worked while I prepared to apologize for our couch antics.
He chuckled softly. “When he came in here earlier to grab breakfast. You offered him some of your omelet.” When I didn’t bite—even though he was making a very good point because I was a selfish bastard who never offered my food to anyone—he continued, “And then he just stood there and watched you cook with this expression like he was watching Namath and the Jets win the ’69 Superbowl.”
I didn’t get the reference, but I sort of got the gist. “Oh. Well. We just blow off steam together sometimes. It’s not a thing.” I felt bad about lying outright, but fudging a little bit was okay.
“Really?”
“Yeah, no. It’s just some fun. But maybe you could not mention it to anyone?” Eww, no, even fudging it felt kind of wrong. I kept thinking of the stupor I’d walked around in for seventy-two hours after Sam and I had hooked up in the laundry room. The initial high had lasted a solid twenty-four hours, then it’d been re-upped when we decided to do an impromptu video the next day of Sam railing the hell out of me over his desk. And then twenty-four hours after that, I got home late from Fuego and saw light coming from underneath his door and figured I’d say hello. Except when I opened the door he was wearing some dorky-adorable clear plastic-framed glasses because he couldn’t find his other pair, and somehow in helping him look for them around his room, I ended up riding his cock.
We’d forgotten the camera that time, too.
“I’ll keep it to myself, sure. I was just curious.” Cam propped his chin on his fist, bright eyes roaming my face. “For the record: if you ever find yourself in need of someone else to blow off steam with, I think you’re pretty great. You’re really hot, and we get along well. I’m not clingy or weird about shit.” He ran a hand over his mouth and shook his head. “I guess I’m probably off-limits for all kinds of reasons—probably really good ones. But I promise my head isn’t as much of a mess as it used to be, and I’m good at keeping things on the down low if that’s what you like.”
I nodded mutely, feeling like I’d walked into the twilight zone. Not in a bad way; I liked Cam just fine. We’d been friendly for months and hung out together more now that he moved in, but I hadn’t necessarily gotten the vibe he was interested. I wondered if this was how Eric had felt around me when I was crushing on him? Then decided probably not, because I’d never told Eric. Nate probably had, though, because I’d gotten all fumey with jealousy at first when I’d found out they were hooking up.
“Thank you,” I said, then laughed self-consciously. “That’s a really weird thing to say thank you to, I guess.”
Cam burst into laughter, too. “You totally just did the verbal equivalent of a left swipe. Ouch.”
“I did.” I buried my face in my hands. “God, now I feel like an asshole. Damn, you’re so direct. It caught me off guard.”
“Sorry, side effect of rehab and NA. I don’t dance around things much anymore. Staying honest with myself and everyone else is the best shot I have at staying sober. Don’t feel bad, though—I just think you’re cool, so I figured I’d tell you. No harm, no foul.” He stood from the table and carried his cereal bowl to the sink. “And I won’t mention anything about you and Sam. Not my business.”
We both glanced at the back door as Sam slammed back through it. “Forgot my phone.” He glanced around and spotted it on the counter near the toaster.
“I’m out. Catch you later,” Cam said and thundered upstairs whistling.
Sam tucked his phone in his back pocket and eyed me. “Everything okay? You’re doing your uncomfortable smile.” His gaze strayed to the door as he frowned. “Did Cam say something?”
“No. Not at all. What’s this uncomfortable smile you’re talking about?”
“The one that looks like you picked it up off a dirty Walmart aisle, dusted it off, and slapped it on your face.”
“Wow, vivid.”
“There’s your real one. Way better.” Sam grinned. “I meant to mention earlier my parents will be here for homecoming, and I’m getting a bunch of really good seats for them and some of the other guys. Would you come? My brothers and sisters will be there, too.” He sucked on his lower lip, brows furrowed like he wasn’t sure what I’d say.
“You want me to meet your family?”
“I mean, in a no-pressure way because I know we’re casual and stuff, and they don’t exactly know what’s been going on, but—”