“No, honestly, it’s fine. And the answer is not much, no.” Cameron hesitated again, then added in a hushed tone, “In fact, I’ve never really…beenwith anyone. Like… ever.”
I blinked. “You mean?—”
“I mean exactly that.” Cameron smiled as though to blunt the honesty of his intimate revelation. “Don’t get me wrong. I’ve dated. And there were a couple ofalmost-things. Nothing that made it past coffee or nerves, though.”
My throat felt suddenly parched. “You’re young. You have time.”
He bit back a smile. “You make it sound as though I’m still in my teens. You’re only four years older than me, remember?” Cameron locked gazes with me. “I’m not in a hurry. Just… waiting until it feels right.”
The words hung between us, simple and unguarded.
Something shifted inside me, an unruly mix of awe and danger. I wanted to say that right was complicated, that timingwas cruel, that sometimes, waiting hurt more than wanting. But I couldn’t.
Instead, I took a breath. “That’s rare.”
Cameron shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe I just haven’t met the person worth breaking my streak for.”
I averted my gaze, my pulse racing. “The world isn’t always gentle with people who lead with hope.”
“I know. That’s why hope needs practice.”
I could hear Cameron’s smile before I looked back at him. “You’re impossible to argue with.” I couldn’t keep the warmth from my voice.
Cameron chuckled. “That’s what my tutors say.”
Our eyes met again, and for a heartbeat, everything felt suspended in time, captured in the quiet, the glow of the lamp, even the faint hum of traffic outside.
Then I cleared my throat. “I should make some tea.”
Cameron’s grin lit up his face. “See? Avoidance. Classic Sinclair.”
I shot him a look over my shoulder. “Careful. You’re analysing your landlord.”
“It’s an occupational hazard.” Cameron was still smiling.
I turned away, my own smile blossoming before I could stop it. I busied myself with the kettle, grateful for the noise. Because if Cameron saw my face, he’d know the truth.
It’s more than curiosity or attraction now.
It was the beginning of belief that someone might see all of me—and stay.
I brought the mugs over, and handed one to Cameron, our fingers brushing, the moment accidental.
Don’t kid yourself.
I didn’t move away this time. “Thank you.”
Cameron blinked. “For what?”
“For the company.”
His smile brightened the room. “Anytime.”
Instead of going to the desk, I sat in the armchair, facing Cameron.
This feels different. New.
Maybe it was trust or sated curiosity.