15. Cameron

"Cameron!"

I glanced over to see Tristan waving at me from in front of the long bar. Grinning, I hurried across the raised platform at Mix It Up's entrance and skipped down the steps into the main part of the bar. The elevated area surrounding the front doors held several tables and chairs, but just a few steps down, on the lower level, was the dance floor with the shiny main bar off to the right and a stage along the back wall. The place was still empty enough that I could both hear and see my bestie, but I knew it'd be filling up within the hour. That was why I'd agreed to meet Tris here a little early.

Tristan was talking with Henry, the owner of Mix It Up, who was predictably behind the bar slinging drinks. Though he had a decent number of employees, he was often here helping out. I wondered if he was lonely and used the bar as his excuse to get out of the house.

My bestie laughed at something he said as I approached, and I eyed him, my eyes narrowing. Was he flirting with Henry? The man appeared to be twenty years older than him, though I suspected Tris would go for that. I could definitely see him wanting a Daddy who was much older to take care of him.

Hmm. Maybe . . .

When I stepped up next to Tris's barstool, Henry handed me my usual rum and coke without me needing to ask, and I tasted it, smiling as the delicious liquor hit my tongue. Tristan turned to me then, sipping his fancy Mai Tai—Henry had to have tricked it out just for him, because no way did their regular drinks include custom fruit spirals and mini umbrellas—but when his eyes lit on something behind me, they shot wide, and he sputtered around his drink.

I leapt toward him, patting him on the back as he coughed, trying to clear his throat. Henry handed us a few drink napkins to help clean up the liquor he'd spit on both of us.

Once he'd recovered and my T-shirt was mostly dry—thankfully it was black and wouldn't show any stains—my curiosity got the best of me. I glanced over my shoulder but saw nothing amiss. "Okay, Tris, what was that? What's going on?"

He shook his head, blinking, before he turned back toward the bar. "Oh, nothing."

"Tristan Applegate!" I lightly punched his bicep. "What happened?"

He slowly, comically, turned his entire body toward me. "Okay, so don't freak out."

My heart started racing, so I smacked him again. "Tris! That's not helping! Of course I'm going to freak out now!"

He set his nearly empty drink on the bar, and I barely noticed Henry grab it and start to make a new one. Then Tristan grabbed me by the shoulders, staring down at me. I was jealous of the three or four inches he had on me. "Okay, so someone's here."

I just stared at him for a second. "Um, okay? Someone? Of course, ‘someone' is here, Tris. This is a bar. There are a lot of someones here."

He rolled his eyes at me. "Remember how you said you were going to put yourself out there, trust the universe, see what happens?"

I didn't like where this was going. "Okaaaaaay . . ."

Tristan sighed like I was a challenging child, then his shoulders and hands dropped at the same time. "Sam's here."

"What the fuck?!"

I didn't know I'd spoken that aloud—or shouted it, based on how both Tristan and Henry took a step backward—until I saw several people turn to us. I instantly flushed red, and I was thankful for the dim lighting in here.

Tristan grabbed the replacement drink Henry had set on the bar for him, smiled his gratitude in the direction of the silver fox in every sense of the word, and led me toward the large booth Henry kept reserved for us on our Tuesday club nights. "Come on."

Still holding my drink, I let Tristan pull me by the arm around the throng of gay men on the dance floor and to our booth. But when we got there, I froze.

"Sam?"

That infuriatingly attractive man's eyes flashed to mine at his name, and the other guys sitting around the table—Nate, Anson, Ethan, and even Zander and Joey who almost never got the chance to stop by—instantly stopped talking. If it weren't for the dance music pulsing and the other conversations surrounding us, the silence would've been deafening.

Ethan spoke up from beside the man I hated that I was attracted to. "Cameron, what's wrong? How do you know Sam?"

I blinked, not registering his questions. Meeting Sam once, where he was a fan of mine, was a coincidence. Seeing him twice was suspicious. But no way would we "happen" to meet for a third time. He was definitely stalking me, and I was about to let him have it.

My voice came out dangerously even. "Sam, can I talk to you, please?"

Probably because he understood my tone, Tris stepped in front of me, blocking Sam and the rest of the guys from my view and putting his hand on my chest. "Cameron, hold on a second."

"No, Tris. Sam and I are going to talk this out."

Ethan stood then, stepping next to Tristan. "Cameron, you look like you're about to murder someone. What's going on?"

I glared at him. "Sam and I just need to discuss something in the back hallway. Please. Move."

Ethan stared back for a few seconds, clearly assessing my mood, then took half a step back, raising his hands in surrender. He glanced at Tristan, and my gaze flew to my best friend. Tristan sighed then backed off as well.

"Just don't kill him, Cameron. He didn't do anything."

"We'll just see about that." I stepped around both of them, moving to stand in front of the booth where Sam was just staring at all of us with wide eyes. "Can I speak with you, please?"

My voice was more calm than I'd thought possible, and I inwardly patted myself on the back.

To his credit, Sam moved to slide out of the booth, but his movements were tentative and unsure. I didn't blame him—I'd be worried, too.

"Look, I didn't mean—"

"Let's talk in the hall."

He stood to his full height now, just a few inches taller than me, and simply nodded. I turned on my heels and headed toward the restrooms. If he knew what was good for him, he'd follow.

I stalked down the hallway past the restrooms and into a small alcove with a door marked "Management." No one would disturb us here.

I whipped around when I got to the dead end, eyes flashing and anger flaring. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Sam stumbled backward at my verbal lashing. His hands shot up between us. "Whoa, what the hell did I do?"

I took a single step forward, and he flinched. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I was overreacting, but that wasn't registering enough to deter me from my current course. "You're stalking me—I knew it! First at the coffee shop, then yoga, then here, at my fucking kink club meeting! What the hell, Sam? How are you here? What are you after? What is your endgame?"

Sam's eyes flashed, and he stood tall, finally standing up for himself. God, that was so hot, and I loathed myself for thinking so. "Look, Cameron, I don't know what your deal is, but how the hell was I supposed to know you attended these meetups?"

His words made me freeze, and I stumbled slightly. He was right.

And given the way his body relaxed just a little, he knew it. "Exactly. And yoga? That was a coincidence. So was the coffee shop. I can't help it if something keeps pushing us together. I. Am. Not. Stalking. You."

His words triggered something in my brain, and Tristan's words about the universe came back to me. Maybe some force was pushing us together. Maybe something out there was trying to get our attention. Maybe this was important.

Maybe I should listen.

"Sam, I . . ." My teeth played with my lower lip as I considered the situation. I didn't know what to say.

"Cameron, please believe me, these are all crazy coincidences, I promise. Did I want to see you again? Absolutely. But I didn't orchestrate it."

I believed him. I hated it, but I did. I didn't want to believe him. Because if what he was saying was true, I couldn't overlook the supernatural timing of all of this. I couldn't overlook that something was shoving us together, making our connection so obvious that we couldn't ignore it.

That I couldn't ignore it.

God, I wanted to. I wanted to go back to hiding. Back to protecting my heart, staying safe, not risking anything.

Because if I believed him, I'd have to act on it. I'd have to give in. I'd have to let him in.

The part of me that wanted that was getting louder. And that fucking terrified me.

As I stared into his eyes, our breathing evening out, I couldn't deny it any longer. I wanted this man. I might've even needed him. So I did the only thing I could.

I leapt toward him, grabbed the lapels of his jean jacket, yanked him to me, and pressed my lips to his.

Fireworks exploded in that back hallway, and my heart rate picked up as Sam got over the initial shock and started to kiss me back. After that first moment of hesitation, Sam's lips moved with purpose over mine, sending sparks throughout my entire body, and his hand went to the back of my head as he took control of the kiss.

I fucking melted, and the world fell away. The only thing that existed was me and him.

My arms went around him as he tugged me even closer until I could feel every inch of him against me. Pushing me back toward the wall, Sam held me up, hooking his hands behind my thighs and lifting me until I wrapped my legs around him. God, he was strong.

I gasped as my back hit the hard surface, and he took the opportunity to thrust his tongue inside my mouth. I pulled him even closer, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist as he devoured me. His hands ventured from my thighs to my ass and squeezed. We moaned at the same time, the vibrations echoing through us and ramping up my desire. I wanted to get this man naked right the fuck now.

But he pulled back, stepping away from the wall. I let my legs fall as he released me, and we stood a foot apart, staring at each other as our chests heaved in unison. I didn't think either of us knew what to say; I know I didn't. So we just stood there, trying to catch our breath.

After what could've been hours, Sam finally straightened and swallowed hard. "Cameron, I . . ." He cleared his throat. "Are you okay?"

Fuck. That this man's first concern was if I was okay told me everything I needed to know. Okay, maybe not everything, but if he was here with Ethan, if he loved my Daddy/boy books, if he was so concerned for my well-being, then maybe he was the Daddy I always wanted. Maybe he wanted to be my Daddy.

God, I could only hope.

I swallowed as well, worried my voice wouldn't work right. "I'm okay. I'm—was that okay?"

Sam nodded slowly, eyeing me like he was worried I might disappear. "That was so much better than okay. That was . . ."

"Everything?"

It just came out. I didn't know why. But once I'd put that word out there, spoken it between us, I knew it was true. That was everything. This was everything.

And it scared the shit out of me.

Sam was nodding his agreement, but this was too fast. I couldn't do this right now. I wasn't ready, was I? I couldn't explore the chemistry between us because it could lead—very easily, my heart knew—to love. And love was messy. Love was hard. Love meant I got hurt.

But a small voice inside me, one I'd ignored for far too long, whispered, But what if this love could last forever?

It couldn't be true. Life didn't work like that. Sure, I was a romantic, but real life was imperfect. Love was imperfect. It couldn't give me the happy ending I wrote in my books.

Sam took a step forward, reaching a hand toward the side of my head. He hesitated as he searched my eyes, looking for my consent. I nodded once, needing to feel his skin on mine again despite the internal battle waging between my head and my heart.

When his palm touched my cheek, my eyes fell closed without my permission. The electricity was still there, but his warmth took precedence, emanating throughout my entire being and calming me. It helped me focus, helped me breathe. Helped me think clearly.

Helped me trust this. Trust the universe. Trust him.

I opened my eyes to find his gaze and smiled. "Sorry I yelled at you."

He smirked, and I swore, under different circumstances, I could've come from just that. "No permanent damage done. Sorry I surprised you again."

My smile got wider, and he grinned to match it. I turned my head to kiss his palm then reached for his hand, pulling him back down the hallway. "How about we get back to the guys?"

He chuckled, his relief palpable. "That sounds great."