The infomercial came on and I resolved to stay strong as horrific images of injured birds played across the screen with a moving anthem about second chances.
I blinked rapidly. My fingers itched to grab my phone. I’d never donated to birds before, and these ones were in need of dire help. I could save their birdy lives for a small donation of… I memorized the phone number then turned my face to the ceiling to make sure I wasn’t crying when Cameron looked over at me.
They’re just birds, I told myself. Just poor, helpless, little birds.
I’d been expecting Cameron to crow with victory, but instead he turned the TV off and wrapped an arm around me.
“Sorry, Dylan, I didn’t really think—do you want me to donate? I can get out my credit card.”
“No.” I pressed my lips together. I was going to donate later, anyway. The poor birds didn’t need money from Cameron. But what if my pettiness cost that poor little, brown bird its life? “Yes,” I sighed.
Cameron dialed the number he’d already typed into his phone. He’d known I was going to want this, the bastard. Hell. It was hard to think badly of him when he was willing to give money to one of my “dumb causes,” as my brother liked to say. Cameron was going to lose some serious man cred for doing this.
I sniffled and wiped a tear off my cheeks. “Thanks,” I said.
He winked. “Anytime.”
I believed him. Cameron wasn’t the boy who’d fucked me and left me anymore. He was the man who’d hold me in his arms and call cheesy charities to make me happy.
Fuck. I really was falling in love with him all over again, and I had no idea how to stop myself.
Cameron hung up the phone and smiled at me, and I might as well have melted all over his couch. I wanted him. I might also hate myself for wanting him in the morning, but I needed him right now.
“Cameron,” I whispered. I leaned in toward him.
His arms wrapped around me, and I pressed my entire body to his. The heat between us burned right through the clothes we were wearing.
“Bedroom?” His warm breath ghosted over my ear.
“Yes,” I said. I wanted every inch of him against me.
Our clothes came off somewhere between the couch and his bedroom. Then I was on the bed and his body was hot and solid on top of mine. I kissed him until my lips ached and held onto him as our bodies joined and collided. He was my other half. I had no doubt of that now. We fit so well together.
I screamed his name as I orgasmed, drawing him as deeply into my body as I possibly could. It still wasn’t enough. I hated the condom between us. I hated that he wasn’t mine to keep, mine to love.
Afterward he brushed my hair back from my face. “Stay,” he said.
There were a thousand reasons I should leave, but none of them felt good enough in that moment.
I stayed.
* * *
The morning was cold. I woke up in a bundle of sheets and comforter and reached out for Cameron. He wasn’t there. I jolted completely awake.
He wasn’t in the bedroom. I untangled myself from the sheets and grabbed a robe from the back of his door. I searched his entire apartment, but he wasn’t anywhere.
I sat down on the edge of the couch and took deep breaths. I didn’t understand. The night before had been so perfect.
Rejection was eating me alive. It was like I was in college all over again and he’d walked out on me all over again.
The difference was that this was his apartment. He’d have to come back eventually, and when he did I wouldn’t be waiting here like a pathetic idiot.
I grabbed my clothes and dressed as fast as I could. I couldn’t go through this again. I didn’t want to hear Cameron’s excuses.
I checked the time on my phone. “Shit,” I muttered. There was a text on my phone from the senior partners telling me there was a meeting in the conference room at nine thirty. That was only forty-five minutes from now and I’d have to get back to my hotel, wash up, and change.
The text had arrived in the middle of the night. Had Cameron seen it? Had he talked to George? According to the message, George and Cameron were expected to be at the meeting too.
Cameron had to have known about it. Why would he let me sleep in? Had he not wanted me at that meeting? Was this some weird, macho effort to protect me or to sabotage my career?
I couldn’t think about this anymore. I didn’t have time. I pulled on my shoes and stumbled out the door.
I didn’t have a key to Cameron’s apartment so I’d have to leave it unlocked. The building seemed nice enough that his apartment wasn’t likely to be robbed if it was left open for a minute. I’d mention to him that I’d left it unlocked when I saw him in the meeting. That would throw him.