25. Cam

The post-vacation blues hit me almost as soon as we pulled out of Sandra's driveway, crash-landing in my gut like a meteor out of nowhere. Maybe I should have considered that spending a weekend together out in the open, not having to look over my shoulder, or be sneaky, then having to return to doing all of that would hit like the bleary post-party comedowns of my past. Even shame, though faint, was a companion to the preemptive wistfulness that settled inside me, though it had nothing to do with my sexuality this time. And there was still the Paul situation to contend with. I'd pushed everything aside from Grady to the corners of my life—Paul, my parents— for the past couple of days, and now, the reprieve was over.

"Want to come over, eat a bite of dinner before you head home?"

We'd chatted on the ride, listened to music, held hands, but even Grady seemed a little off.

"Yeah, that sounds nice." I pasted on a smile that disappeared as soon as he got out of his car in the garage, and I followed him inside.

He dropped his bag by the stairs, then went into the kitchen and began pulling things out of his fridge. His kitchen, which had seemed so cozy and familiar to me a few days before, now felt foreign under the glaring uncertainty of what came next.

I watched him with a rueful ache. Fuck, I cared for this man too much. I kept thinking I'd get tired of him or maybe some of the shine would wear off, but every layer we peeled back from each other left me wanting more. I wondered if he felt the same.

"Paul was telling me he's applying for some prestigious fellowship or something." I affected nonchalance as I pulled the bread from Grady's pantry. I assumed from his rummaging we'd be making sandwiches, but I was no longer hungry.

"Yes, the Mind Matters Fellowship. Several grad students are applying for it. It's pretty competitive." Grady slapped a bag of cheese and another of roast beef onto the counter. "Mustard. Shit, where'd I put it?" he muttered to himself and went back to the fridge.

"He said he asked you to write a letter of recommendation for him."

Grady cut me a look sidelong. "He did, yes."

"Did you do it?"

"I told him I'd consider it."

"I think you should. He's been a really great tutor, and?—"

"I'm strongly considering it."

"Why wouldn't you?" I gnawed on my lower lip.

"I've been a little distracted." He tossed me a wink over his shoulder that made my heart ache.

"Well, he's not trying to date me or anything, if that's what's holding you back. He hasn't put any moves on me since that…that one time."

Grady closed the fridge and gave me a cool, assessing look that made me want to crawl out of my skin. It was one of the few times I'd ever seen him calculating. "What's going on here, Cameron? You've seemed out of sorts since we left. I've been around you enough that I think I can judge your character, and I can't imagine why you'd be invested either way in whether or not I wrote a letter of recommendation for a TA."

"I like him," I said weakly. Grady's gaze sharpened on me, and for the first time, I didn't like the way it felt, like he was trying to pull up a corner of my psyche and peer behind my flimsy excuses. It was working. "I just think he's a good candidate, is all."

"Do you now? Spent a lot of time going over his CV and qualifications?" He arched a brow. "Or is it something else?"

"Something else, like what?"

"You tell me."

My jaw dropped. "Are you implying that I'm hooking up with both of you or somehow using you for gain?"

"I don't know what the fuck I'm implying, but I'm telling you directly that the question seems out of character for you, and I want to know why you're asking and why it matters."

"You don't have a fucking clue about my character."

Grady stared long and hard at me. "I know you are kind and earnest. I know you are determined and tenacious in a way that takes my breath away. I know what you've told me about your past, and I know you know better than to believe I'd judge you for it. And yet, you're pretending like I am right now, twisting things. And that—" He pressed his finger to my chest. "—is out of character. So either I've been wrong about you, or something is up and you don't want to tell me."

"I didn't mean to imply anything like that. That's not it at all. I want you, not Paul." I swallowed the knot forming in my throat, feeling cornered. My palms went clammy, and a wave of dread washed over me. "I…I thought it was important," I stuttered out, shrugging one shoulder defensively. "Paul's a good guy. He deserves a fair shot."

Grady's gaze softened but didn't let up completely. His eyes still held questions.

"You're right," he said after a long moment, breaking eye contact to reach for a bag of chips. "He deserves a fair shot. I'll write the rec this week."

I should have melted with relief. I should have been absolutely elated that this was such an easily resolved issue. Paul would get his letter, I would keep getting Grady. No harm, no foul. But the spike in my stomach was unrelenting, twisting around guilt, and a voice in my head whispered, This is how relapse begins. And maybe relapse didn't mean pills or booze or any sort of substance, but shame and guilt were enough. I'd promised myself I'd never again get into situations where I felt them. That I'd always be honest and true to myself most of all. And Grady deserved to know the truth because I never wanted to feel like I'd manipulated him into being with me.

I closed my eyes, exhaled, and opened them again. "Paul knows about us."

"What?" Grady barked, and gone was every last shred of softness, replaced with wild-eyed shock.

"I didn't tell him. I didn't even confirm anything, but he somehow knows. I don't think he has any proof or anything like that, but I don't know."

"Did he threaten you?"

I shook my head. "It was very…it was the weirdest non-blackmail blackmail attempt I've ever heard. The only one I've ever heard." I chuckled bitterly. "He just wanted me to talk to you. He didn't threaten to expose us if I didn't or if you said no to writing the letter."

Grady mumbled something about social manipulation under his breath, and then sighed. "Christ, he probably does deserve that rec with that kind of approach. It's smart."

"I believe him. I don't think he'll say anything."

"But we can't be certain. Why the fuck are you just now telling me this?" he snapped and then closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bite your head off."

Fuck, I hated this. "I should've. I don't know. It was right before spring break, and I panicked and wanted some time to think, and then I went home, and my parents, and then we went to your sister's and we were having such a good time. I didn't want to ruin it…" I petered out, my eyes stinging as I whispered. "Those are all dumb excuses, I know. I'm sorry."

"This is serious." Grady rested his elbows on the countertop and put his head in his hands, massaging his eyes with the heels of his palms. "It's not only my job—it would kill the publicity tour, too." He looked up at me then, a weariness in his gaze that aged him almost a decade. "Fuck. What have I gotten myself into? What the fuck have I been thinking?"

My jaw clenched as frustration boiled over inside me. "Thinking with your dick, maybe?" I snapped and instantly regretted it as Grady looked up sharply at me, a flash of pain in his eyes. "I'm sorry," I quickly apologized. "I'm guilty of the same. Thinking with my dick. Thinking we could keep things from becoming complicated. I mean, shit, I'm going against my own promises to myself, that I would never be a liar again, and now I have. I've lied to you, even by omission. And I've put myself in a situation where I have to lie to all my friends, keep you a secret. All for an ‘easy' hookup."

"An easy hookup…" he echoed softly and then shook his head with a baleful downturn of his mouth. "You know, that isn't remotely what enters my mind when I think of you now, but I suppose you're right. You said this from the beginning, didn't you? No strings attached. It was what we agreed to."

"Yes, we did." The lump in my throat grew larger, threatening to choke me as I watched Grady grapple with the reality of our situation. It had been what we agreed to, yeah, and now I couldn't imagine not having him. The emotional tightrope we were walking was dangerous. It had always been bound to snap. I stared at the worn-out tiles of Grady's kitchen floor, heart pounding in my chest like a hammer against an anvil and the sharp sting of regret nettling my skin. "Grady," I started, my voice a rough whisper. "I didn't mean…"

He held up a hand to stop me, his fingers trembling slightly as they rubbed against the bristly hairs on his chin. Then, he exhaled a long sigh, arms crossing over his chest and nodded, seemingly to himself. "I'm not being fair to you."

"Hold on."

"No," he said sharply. "You're right. You shouldn't have to hide anything just to protect me."

"But—"

Grady continued, his voice a low rumble. "This isn't about right or wrong, Cameron. This is about us making sure we're not sacrificing who we are, what we believe in and stand for. And you…you need to focus on finishing your degree, your friends, your job." His voice lowered to a near whisper. "And I need to…" He looked at me then, expressive eyes clouded with conflict I knew mirrored my own.

"To protect your reputation and your career," I finished for him, the sour taste of reality thick on my tongue, though I didn't say it unkindly. It was a simple truth. One I couldn't argue with.

Grady nodded, his gaze never leaving mine. A profound sadness gripped me as he reached over the kitchen counter to gently grasp my hand. His touch still sent an electric jolt through me, but it was bittersweet.

When he tugged, I came around the counter and wrapped my arms around him as he did the same. "Let's take a little break for a few days. Let things settle down." I knew as soon as he said it we'd reached the end of our road. I nodded into his shoulder to keep from choking on a sob. "I'll get everything sorted out with Paul."

"Alright," I whispered against his shirt, the earthy scent of his cologne grounding me. My heart was lead in my chest. Grady's arms tightened around my waist, his fingers digging into my back through the thin T-shirt. I felt the steady rhythm of his heart pounding against me and closed my eyes, absorbing the warmth of his embrace and committing it to memory.

A cold emptiness bloomed inside me as I backed away from him and tried to put on a brave face.

"Let me grab my keys, and I'll drive you."

"I'd rather walk."

Grady scrutinized me and then nodded, no doubt seeing the hard resolve in my expression. I needed air and space. I picked up my bag and walked out the door before I lost it.