28. Grady

Waiting for Cameron to arrive had me as nervous as a guy waiting on his prom date, all but standing at the door with my hand on the knob listening for his knock—if I could even hear it over the hammering of my heart.

He did so right at eight, and I flung the door open. In faded jeans that molded to his lean body, sculpting him in all the right places, and a navy tee, he was breathtaking, but it was the warmth of his eyes, as always, that I gravitated toward, and that truly knocked me for a loop. The limbo we'd been stuck in made seeing them up close again and trained on me staggering.

His gaze danced over me, and I felt oddly exposed, as if he could see right to my fragile core.

"Cameron." A simple concoction of syllables, but one I'd missed stringing together. I started to gesture him inside, but he caught my hand and stilled the movement.

"I love you." It came out in a frantic rush, and then he sucked in a breath, like saying the words had taken all of his air from his lungs.

His declaration hung between us, vibrant and electrifying. I didn't know how long I stood there, held captive by the intense gaze of those ocean-blue eyes and the scent of him enveloping me before my own lips parted to speak. But no words came out. Instead, I twisted my hand within his grip and yanked him inside. Or maybe he leapt.

He crashed into me, and our bodies melded together in a feverish dance of pent-up desire. Someone kicked the door shut, I wasn't sure who.

Cameron's mouth fused to mine with raw need as we stumbled further into the kitchen, tugging and tearing at our clothing.

His shirt fell to the floor, his groan vibrating through me like a live wire.

"I love you, too." The words came from deep inside me, carved from the space in my heart he now occupied, to spill over his lips in a murmur.

I fucked him against the kitchen wall, our movements savage and impatient at first and then mellowing to slow and savoring. After I'd filled him with my release, he turned me around, guided my hands to the wall, and did the same. I came again, with him, making a mess of the floor that we laughed at before mopping up.

And then, in a more coherent headspace, we tugged on our pants and made our way to the couch. There, we sank down into a sprawl, still breathless. Cameron rested his head on my shoulder, fingers tracing idle patterns on my bare chest. I let my fingers wander through his blond hair, the strands soft against my skin. Our heartbeats eventually slowed to a steady rhythm that matched the calm of the dim room.

"I love you, Grady." Cameron's voice broke the silence, laced with an uncertainty that had me pulling him closer, tucking his head beneath my chin. There was a "but" in there. He didn't need to say it for us both to feel it. It settled between us like a barrier wall. "I can't see you in secret anymore. After everything that's happened, it would stress me out too much. I'd worry all the time. I'd worry about risking your job, worry about getting in the way of your book being a success. I'd worry about me worrying about you."

"I know, baby," I murmured into the golden strands at his crown as I breathed him in. "And I don't want you to wrestle with the secrecy or for you to lose focus on graduating. I'd also like to keep my job and my book tour. For now." Had I had thoughts of giving both up? Yes, and if Cameron had asked me to, I would've. But that also wouldn't have been the Cameron I'd come to know and love.

"I told my friend Mark about us. I feel like you should know that. I know I said I wouldn't tell anyone, but I told him because I trust him completely, and I really needed a friend to hear me. He won't say anything." He peered up at me, perhaps gauging my response.

I kissed his forehead. "I told my friend John for the same reason. And he'll also keep his mouth shut."

"Did he judge you?"

I chuckled. "Of course. But not because of you and me. What about Mark?"

"I think part of him thinks I'm being ridiculous about letting the secrecy get to me." He shrugged. "But he's him, and I'm me." The comforting rhythm of his fingers on my chest slowed, and I knew him well enough to recognize it as a sign he was deep in thought. "The thing is, I don't want to lose you. Fuck." He angled a look up at me. "Is there some kind of psychological term for this scenario?"

"I think it's just called a huge predicament." I chuckled softly, then cupped his face. "I don't want to lose you either."

"Really?"

"Christ, yes, Cameron. You're not just a hookup for me. We've long since passed that stage. You are… I have loved every moment I've spent with you, and I don't regret a second of it. You revived parts of me, things inside me I thought were long gone, awakened possibilities I didn't know existed."

Cameron blew out a shuddery breath. "I didn't know… I mean, I wasn't sure you…" He waved a hand, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "I feel the same way. All of those things and more. It's scary as fuck, but also…nice in a way, even if it's painful. Nice to know that I can fall in love. Nice to know someone can love me in return."

"I told you before that you're not any more broken than the rest of us. Everyone's broken in different places. Maybe you and I found our perfect complement."

He gave me a short nod. "I think that's why it feels so hard to let go."

"Is it possible that we…wait?" I offered the suggestion quietly and with full awareness that there were no guarantees in life. Cameron might not be interested in that. Hell, Cameron might lose interest in me.

"Like, wait until after the publicity tour?"

"And after you graduate, yes. I suspect I'll be traveling most of the summer. You'll be busy with classes and the cafe. It's not ideal, but it's all I've been able to come up with. And in the interim, if you change your mind?—"

"I won't." He cut me off, shifting around so we were at eye level. "I know what I feel." His words wrapped around my heart and took root, and I had to swallow back a surge of emotion at the determination in those striking blues. I believed him, as I always had. As I always would.

"I know what I feel, too. I just want you, and I'll wait however long I have to or until you tell me to stop."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

We kissed again, a slow, lingering kiss that sealed those words between us like an accord.

"Summer's going to feel really fucking long, just so you know," he groused half-jokingly.

"I know." Imagining not seeing him, touching him for those months, spawned a preemptive ache inside me. "One day at a time, though, right? Isn't that how the saying goes?"

"Yeah, yeah." He gave me a wry twist of a smile and rolled his eyes, and I pulled him in for another kiss.

"Grady?" he said when we came up for air again.

"Anything you want," I said prematurely, and he laughed with a shake of his head.

"I'll remember that for the future."

"Please do."

"I just wanted to ask if you could start coming to the cafe again like you used to. At least until you leave? Even if you don't sit in my section, even if you're with John or someone else—except Professor Lingen, fuck that dude." An endearingly possessive snarl threatened his upper lip. "I mean, I know I'll see you in class. But I really like seeing you outside of it, too."

"Done," I replied without a moment's hesitation. I brushed my fingers over his cheek, soaking in the warmth emanating from him. "Besides, everyone else's omelets are shit anyway."