27. New Isnt Always Better

twenty-seven

Cam

"You seem cheery," Adrian says, sliding into Luigi's passenger seat. "What? Did you get laid or something?"

I demanded to drive Adrian to work this morning. They're still pretty beaten up about the whole Anassia Walker thing, and I've been brainstorming ways to lessen the blow a little bit. Apparently, though, I'm still on a sex-high from last night. I adjust my face, subtly messing with the rearview mirror to deflect.

"Funny, Ry," I say sarcastically, my stomach twisting. 19I've been thinking about it more, about telling Adrian. Every single time I'm with Violet, the guilt eats away at me. I've been setting aside time for Adrian; I've been making sure of it. I don't miss a single minute of Criminal Dinner, and we still make our frequent stops at Evergreen Grounds. But that doesn't feel like enough anymore. I feel like I'm keeping a secret from them.

I don't just mean Violet. I feel like I'm keeping myself from them. I'm not letting them fully see the changes and the growth. I've tried a few times to bring it up, but every time I do, I just can't get the words out. It's hard to understand how I can trust someone with my life, but not with my secrets. It isn't their fault. To Adrian, secrets are stress. They focus so hard on trying to hold them in that the pressure builds up and explodes. Telling them and asking them to keep it bottled up seems worse somehow than keeping it to myself. But that doesn't make me feel less guilty.

Dr. Burton says I have a right to feel the way I do, and Hayden says that, while he knows it will hurt them if they ever find out, he understands why I'm hesitant.

"Hey guys!" Aurora smiles, poking her head through the window of the little green shed. She grips an iPad in a thick blue case. "I'll get that black coffee right out for you, Cam. And what are you feeling today, Adrian?"

"Actually," I cut in, looking over at Adrian and swallowing. I look back to Aurora. "Can I have something different?"

Aurora's brows raise, but she smiles and lifts the iPad up, tapping on the screen.

"Absolutely! What would you like?"

"You can just…" I swallow back the anxiety in my tone. "Surprise me."

She taps on the screen for a second and then looks back up with beaming eyes.

"Sure thing. And for you, Adrian?"

I turn, looking at Adrian in the passenger seat, who is staring at me with wide eyes and parted lips. They blink slowly.

"Did you just—"

I nod, and they keep blinking, like if they do it enough times, my answer will change.

"But—"

I bite back a smile. "What are you feeling, Ry?"

Adrian keeps staring at me in disbelief.

"Same," they say, not breaking their gaze. Aurora nods and begins working on our drinks.

"Can you stop staring at me?" I laugh, shoving Adrian's arm gently. Their brows press together.

"Cam, you just ordered a surprise coffee."

I nod. "Yeah?"

They shake their head.

"And that isn't a big deal to you?"

I suck in a breath and shrug. "I mean, yeah," I say honestly. "But also no."

Adrian's lips tug into a wide smile, their face beaming proudly. "Wow," they chuckle, shaking their head again.

"What?"

They look up at me, sliding their hand into mine.

"I'm going to be honest," they say, squeezing my hand. "And don't get pissed, okay?"

"Okay?" I say. I couldn't be pissed at Adrian if I tried. They sigh.

"When you started at Furry Friends, I thought, well, I thought it was going to be a disaster. I didn't want it to be, and I had every faith in your ability to do your job. It wasn't anything like that, it was just..." They swallow, their eyes meeting mine.

"Ry, I'm not going to get mad."

They nod.

"I just thought it was going to be too much change for you. And I thought, maybe, at least for a while, it would hold you back from making other changes. But I was wrong." They gesture to the little green kiosk beside us. "I mean, you're making strides compared to this time last year. And I'm just…" They sigh. "I'm just so proud of you."

Warmth radiates in my chest, my body melting into the sweet words. At least it would if I didn't feel like such a piece of shit. I have to tell them. They need to know.

"Adrian, I—"*

"One honey lavender oat milk latte," Aurora interrupts, passing the paper cup through the drive-through window. My head snaps over to her, and I grab it, forcing a smile. "And this one is a caramel toffee macchiato."

I take the second cup and place them both in the cup holders before handing Aurora my debit card. She swipes it, lets me select the tip percentage, then hands it back to me.

"Well, you guys have a wonderful day!" she smiles. "Stay warm out there!"

Adrian waves at her excitedly as I roll up the window and pull out of the parking lot. They grab both cups from the cupholder and take a sip from each.

"They're both good," they say decisively. Their hand extends out to me, trying to hand me a cup. "You can choose which one you want. I'll be happy with either."

The repetitive click on the turn signal blares behind me as I wait for a clearing in the traffic. I look over at Adrian, their sweet sunshiny face and their bright smile. I can't tell them this now. Not when they're in such a good mood. Not when I'm about to surprise them with something. I can't ruin this.

I tack on a smile, hoping they don't see through it. Then, I accept the cup and take a slow, long sip.

"Uck!" My nose wrinkles as the floral flavor bursts through my mouth. My head jolts back in disgust. Adrian takes the cup from my hand, giggling.

"Okay, okay, not a hit." They hand me the other one. "Try this one."

I look at them skeptically, but I try it.

They're both fucking awful. I hand it back to them, and they frown, disappointed.

"That's okay," they say comfortingly. "You tried. Want to turn back and get your normal one?"

I shake my head.

"I can't. We don't have time."

Adrian frowns, looking at the digital clock on the dashboard. "Cam, we have plenty of time."

I shake my head.

"No," I say, shooting them a grin. "We have a pit stop to make."

Adrian stares at the empty spot on the wall of the Greenrock Gallery of Fine Arts, tracing their fingers along it. Their lips mouth the words written on the sign hanging below it, and they pause, chewing on their lip before looking up at me.

"I don't get it," they frown. "Where's my painting?"

I smile and point to the sign they just read.

"Read it again."

Adrian makes a face, but they comply.

"Homemade, Adrian Barlowe, 2024, Oil, has found a temporary home in—" Their brows furrow, but their eyes widen when the next part comes out in a gasp. "In the Pacific Mountain Gallery of Fine Arts!"

Their head snaps up to me, tears filling their eyes.

"What? But how?" They look back at the bare wall in disbelief, then back up at me. "How?"

I smile, giving them a shrug. "Anassia changed her mind, I guess."

Adrian throws their arms around me, squeezing tighter than ever.

"I don't know what you did," they say, their voice strained from the tight hug. "But thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

I hug them back, my face sinking into their soft curly hair.

"It's all you," I say. "She just needed a little shove."

Adrian pulls back, now eyeing me suspiciously.

"Should I be... concerned about Anassia? Is she, like, tied up in your trunk or something? Cause I swear I heard a noise."

I roll my eyes, pushing them away playfully.

"Anassia is fine," I say, her name tasting bitter in my mouth. I'm sure she's actually a wonderful person. But… "Like I said, it was just a little shove."

Adrian smiles, placing a warm wet kiss on my forehead.

"You are my favorite person in existence," they say, their eyes locking onto mine. "You know that, right?"

My heart sinks into my stomach, but I smile.

"You're mine, Ry." I swallow. "And yeah. I know that."

Adrian walked into Furry Friends like they just won the lottery. It was so cute, the way they ran about the place, telling any person and dog who would listen about their piece being shown at Anassia Walker's studio. Avery banished them to the Party Pen, so they had somewhere to channel their energy, which was probably the safest choice.

"So, it went well, from the sounds of it," Violet says, closing the salon door behind her as she steps into the room. I look up, my overly-priced and overly-bent Chris Christensen brush stuck halfway through a Great Pyrenees' butt fluff. I chuckle.

"I think you made their life," I say, tugging the brush back through. I lock eyes with her. "Thank you."

Violet shrugs, all nonchalant. "Yeah, well, if the owner of an art gallery is going to give you her phone number, you may as well put it to good use."

I raise my eyebrows, fighting a jealous smile. Saying what I want to say is a complete violation of the contract. Well, the parts we haven't crossed out yet. Still, I can't get it off my mind, like the thought is a little worm, digging deeper and deeper into my brain.

"So what'd you have to do?" I break, turning back to the dog on my table. I pretend to be focused on the thin wire bristles brushing through the coat. "Agree to a date?"

Violet grows quiet for just a moment too long, and my gaze darts up to her, my brows furrowed. She breaks into laughter.

"Sorry." She laughs, slapping her knee. "I just had to see your face."

I frown, turning away from her again. "I made no face," I say firmly.

"You totally did."

I shake my head. "Like I said, do what you want. Just let me know if we need to start using protection."

I say it casually, like I don't know it's a flat-out lie. Like the thought of Violet with anyone but me doesn't set my cheeks on fire, doesn't twist my stomach into a tight, charred pretzel. But even just feeling that way pushes the boundaries of our rules, and saying it out loud? Well, we need to cling to the ones we have left.

"Cameron."

By the time my brain is telling my eyes not to look up at her, they've already latched on. I sigh, as if hearing my full name come out of her mouth doesn't cause moths to flutter in my stomach.

"Yes?"

"I only want you."