29. Cam

When I got back to the house the afternoon after taking my final exam, there was a package addressed to me waiting outside my bedroom door. No return address. Grinning, I took it into my bedroom and closed the door, then flopped on my bed to unseal it.

Inside was a proof copy of Grady's book, The Choice Code: Cracking the DNA of Decision Making. I stared at the glossy cover, then flipped it over to the back, examining the headshot of Grady with a grin. He'd told me before that he hated how they'd styled his hair, that it defied his natural part. All I saw was the gorgeous, brilliant man I adored. Pride swelled in my chest as I leafed through the pages and snuck a sniff of the paper and ink.

When I got to the title page, Grady's familiar scrawl leapt out at me.

"While it's highly unlikely that this was the first book printed, it's the first one I've signed (my signature needs work, I know. I can all but see you squinting at the page right now). It's funny to think I spent so many years researching and writing a book about the nature of decision making, and yet there are still many aspects of both of us that remain an enigma, defying all logic and patterns discussed in these pages. Perhaps that's a subject to explore in a different book. Or, perhaps, it's all the sweeter to leave the mystery intact. Regardless of the nature of human behavior, choosing you remains the best decision I've ever made.

With love, Grady"

I read it and then read it again. The last several weeks of the semester weren't the torture I thought they were going to be and definitely nothing remotely approaching the tumult of the early days when Grady and I had been hooking up. That didn't mean it was easy, but there was comfort in knowing we'd made a mutual decision based on the love and respect we had for each other. It was a security blanket wrapped around me, filtering every single interaction we had.

In a different world, or maybe a Lifetime movie, we'd have run away together or had some dramatic blowup where we were exposed. Maybe Grady would have made a rousing speech to the department heads about the imperfect and often untimely nature of love that would move them so greatly he'd be forgiven, and we'd celebrate by fucking in his office.

Or maybe he would've been unceremoniously fired.

But we weren't in a movie, and the situation with Paul had been enough drama for us both. I loved Grady to the edge of the solar system and knew he loved me, too. I also knew that our best shot at making something work was if, despite all of that, we kept our feet firmly planted on the ground where we could see our path forward, step by step.

We kept it on the level. Grady started coming to the cafe again. Sometimes he was in my section, and we'd chat and laugh like we had before we'd ever gotten together, when I was just his student and he was just my professor. It was innocuous enough, even if seeing his smile still made my heart slam in my chest and my stomach swoop.

The last time I saw him was at the cafe three days before my roommates graduated. He'd had nearly an entire pot of coffee and an omelet before he called for the check.

"I suppose I'm just delaying the inevitable," he said when I set it down in front of him.

"The inevitable?" I cocked an eyebrow.

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair and mussing it, and I ached to smooth it back into place, but I kept my hands to myself. "I haven't packed yet, and my flight to New York leaves at 8:00 a.m."

"Better get on that, Professor. Wouldn't want to miss the first day of your own tour. That would probably be considered poor form."

"Probably." He shrugged, and then his gaze locked with mine. "It's just that the house is so quiet."

"I'm sure a man of your intellect isn't scared of a little quiet," I teased.

"Scared, no." A small smile played over his lips. "Just very cognizant of the sounds that filled it before. And missing them very much."

Electricity rippled through me, and I fought to keep my composure when what I wanted to do was lurch across the table into his arms. We were perfectly capable of keeping our conversations vague and lighthearted were anyone to overhear but damn near helpless to prevent the palpable tension that often descended between us.

My blood thrummed as Grady reached out to hand me the check, his card on top. His fingers brushed over mine, leaving behind a trail of heat that seared through my veins and became a heady warmth twisting my gut into a pleasurable knot.

I inhaled and let out the breath slowly, gaze roving over his face, cementing his smile in my mind. I would miss seeing it right in front of me. "Be safe traveling, Professor. I hope to see you when you return."

"I very much hope for the same."

He gave me a wink that, along with the promise in his smile, I carried with me into the next morning and the one after that, too.

I carried it with me through my roommates' graduation, through the chaos of a fully loaded summer schedule and 5:00 a.m. wake-ups. I carried it with me through every late-night conversation with Grady while he was gone. And it was the first thing I thought of when I woke up on the morning of my own graduation in August.

My phone rangfive minutes after my alarm went off. I cracked an eye long enough to see who was calling and then shut them again, answering with a grin.

"Mmph," I greeted Grady because it was too early for a hello.

"You picked up a dinner shift last night, didn't you?"

"Mmph," I conceded.

Grady tsk'd me. "Switch over to FaceTime."

"Noooooo. My eyes aren't even open yet. I've got bed head. I'm not fully awake." I groaned, though the anticipation buzzing in my stomach like a live wire said I was awake enough.

"You just spoke a full sentence, and I love you with bed head, nap head, insomnia head, or any other variation thereof, smart-ass. FaceTime."

I exhaled a belabored sigh but was still grinning as I propped up on an elbow and accepted the FaceTime call. "How bad is it? Is there cowlick?"

Grady squinted at the screen assessingly. "Cowlick is still under control, so I give this a 5 for disarray, but 10 out of 10 would not be letting you out of bed if today wasn't your graduation." The familiar warmth of his smile engulfed me. "Happy graduation day, baby. You did it."

I flopped back down on my pillow, holding the phone above my head and praying I didn't drop it on my face like I had a couple of times before when Grady and I spoke. It would have been more humiliating if we hadn't laughed so fucking hard afterward that it made it worth the bruised ego and forehead.

"I wish you could be here." I sighed.

"I know, me too." Grady grimaced. "I'll be watching the webcast, but I know that's not the same. I'm incredibly proud of you, though. I know you know that, but I like to keep reminding you. Makes me feel a tiny bit less guilty for missing it."

"At least you're honest." I laughed. "But shit, we've already been over this. There's no way for you to be here without it looking super suspicious. You're in the middle of a publicity tour, for fuck's sake. Stop feeling guilty." During our late-night conversations, we'd daydreamed various ways for Grady to return to Silver Ridge but always ended up at the same conclusion: too risky. While it was a bummer he couldn't come, I didn't actually mind it. There were too many good things on the other side of this day. Grady's book was on target to release in September, and his publicity tour was going so well it had been extended to book signings in a bunch of major cities. The university had agreed to an extended sabbatical, and he would resume teaching the following spring. I'd see him in person sooner than I thought. He just didn't know that yet.

"Yeah, I can't help but feel I'm missing out on supporting you, though. It bothers me," he confessed, the somber tinge in his voice betraying a hint of regret. God, I savored these moments when Grady let down his guard, revealing the softer man beneath the weight of his responsibilities. It filled me with affection and adoration and all sorts of squishy emotions I never imagined I'd feel for someone else.

"I've never once not felt completely supported by you, whether you're here or on Mars, I promise."

"Then promise me, too, that you'll celebrate with me later. Even if it's over this damn phone."

"I promise." It was one of the easiest promises I'd ever made in my life.

"Did you hear anything back from your parents?"

"Eh. Yeah." I pushed a hand through my hair and shrugged. "They're not coming. Told me they loved me and were proud but that they couldn't make it." Grady pressed his lips together firmly, which I knew meant he was holding back from saying something, when I continued. "I'm fine with that. It's easier anyway, to be honest. I'll be more relaxed."

His gaze moved over my face, as if looking for proof otherwise, but it was the truth. My parents had their viewpoints, and I had mine. Maybe someday, they'd converge, and we'd get along better. Maybe someday, enough time would have passed that they could trust and respect what I was becoming instead of what I had been. I wasn't holding my breath, though. I also wasn't holding on to anger either. I'd let it go and accepted the situation—one of the first tenets of recovery and the one I kept close because it had guided me through a lot of dark days and lonesome times. I had a shit ton to be grateful for, and I never let myself forget that. Though, sometimes after a double shift at the cafe, it took a little more effort.

Besides, I had my friends supporting me, too. Mark, Sam, and Jesse had remained in the house with me over the summer. Mark still had another semester at the U since he'd changed his major and had taken classes over the summer like me, while Chet was in DC interning with some bigwig judge. Sam and Jesse planned to stay in Silver Ridge for the long haul and had found a new apartment earlier in the summer, but it wouldn't be ready to move into until the first of September.

"Alright. You make good points," Grady said finally, holding my gaze. Then he smiled, and the flash of warmth drove away the last of my lethargy. I felt his presence like he was right there beside me. "I love you, Cameron. Now, get up and get moving. Can't be late to your own graduation."

"I've got hours." I chuckled and then said, more solemnly, "I miss you. I'll wave at you when I get onstage."

No sooner had I hung up than a cacophonous roar erupted from the hallway outside my room. "Cam! Wake up! It's graduation day!" Sam's voice boomed, accompanied by the sound of feet pounding the stairs, and then my bedroom door flung wide. "Jesse's making you a special breakfast. Also, good morning."

I cracked up. "Dude, how much caffeine have you had this morning?"

"It's my pre-workout." Sam flashed me a wild grin and made a show of flexing one of his huge biceps. "C'mon, or I'll fireman carry you downstairs. Jesse gave me strict instructions not to come back without you."

"Alright, alright," I groused with affection. "I'm up."

I swung my legs out of bed, catching sight of my cap and gown, hanging in front of my closet and ready to be worn to the ceremony later. Seeing them stirred up all kinds of emotions in me, but mostly pride that I'd made it. That I'd set out to do something, and I'd fucking done it, regardless of the obstacles I'd encountered along the way.

I followed Sam down the stairs toward the kitchen, still wiping sleep from my eyes, and then froze in the doorway.

Standing in the kitchen were my roommates and best friends. All of them. Nate and Eric, Sam and Jesse, Chet and Mark. Even Ansel, who had left right after graduating on some cross-country running tour and who I honestly wasn't sure I'd ever see again.

"What…?" I trailed off as they shouted in unison.

"Happy graduation day!"

"But…" My brain still hadn't caught up as they swarmed me all at once, giving me hugs and clapping me on the back.

And then, goddammit, I started crying.

Mark folded me into a hug and held me the longest, his voice coming low in my ear. "I knew you'd get here, and I'm so fucking proud of you. We all are."

"Thank you," I whispered and then got ahold of myself and said it again louder. "This means a whole fucking lot. I can't—" I shook my head. "Thank you."

"We wouldn't miss it for the world, man." Nate beamed. "Are you surprised?"

"Fuck yeah, I'm…I totally wasn't expecting this. Jesus."

"We'd better eat these damn frittatas before I oversalt them with my tears," Jesse cut in. I thought he was joking until I looked over and found his eyes red-rimmed.

I pressed my hands to his cheeks and gave him a sloppy kiss on the forehead. "Thank you for frittatas." His breakfast version had always been my favorite.

"Yeah, yeah." He shooed me away with a grin, and Chet handed me a plate. Chaos erupted again as we dived in and ate, our laughter and conversation filling the small kitchen for what I imagined was the last time.

And then I went and graduated. Finally.

Afterward, my boss at the cafe sprang for lunch for all of us, even roped off a section of the cafe and, before I left, pulled me aside and gave me an envelope he said he and the staff had pooled together. When I saw the amount of cash inside, I brimmed up all over again.

Late afternoon, with twilight on the horizon, the eight of us gathered in the living room of the house like old times, crowding in on the couches and floor.

"So what's next, Cambo?" Eric asked.

I shrugged. A lot was still up in the air. "I've applied to the grad program at Crestview U to start spring semester. I should hear back soon. I'll be working in the cafe until then."

"You got a place to stay?"

I glanced around at my friends. I'd been waiting for this moment, and both fear and excitement filled me as I spoke. "I've got a month-to-month lease on a studio until December. Then I'll be moving in with someone I've been seeing for a while." I hesitated, suddenly nervous about what their reaction would be, even though I'd discussed sharing this part of my life with Grady, Mark, and Chet, who I'd told over the summer, extensively. They'd all been encouraging. The irony wasn't lost on me since I'd been the one reluctant to keep secrets. Hell, Grady had been the one to suggest it in the first place. Still, my stomach somersaulted when Jesse shrieked.

"What? Who? Oh my god?—"

"Gary," Eric piped confidently and smirked as my mouth dropped open. How the fuck was he always right?

"The judge?" Nate's brows drew together, and my shock morphed into laughter.

"He's not a judge. He's?—"

"Better not be my dad. He's supposed to be on vacation right now." Ansel frowned.

"It's not your dad, Ansel." I had to raise my voice to be heard over the chaos and laughter. "And his name isn't Gary, and he isn't a judge, but he is a professor here, which is why—" Jesse shrieked again, and Sam clapped a hand over his mouth. "—we had to keep things quiet."

"I'll be damned." Nate was still staring at me in disbelief.

Jesse pried Sam's fingers from his mouth. "It's GHG, though? Because holy shit, that's fucking wild. Good for you."

"It's a long story," I told them.

Not a damn one of them moved an inch, except Nate, who cocked his head with a grin. "We've got time."