“You never are.” Cameron dropped his jacket, missing the hook. “You worry too much.”
“And you don’t enough.”
We stood there for a moment. I could smell the night on him, a mix of rain and something floral from someone’s perfume that made my stomach twist.
Move. Say something ordinary.
Instead, I heard myself ask, “Are you all right?”
“Better now,” Cameron murmured. He swayed slightly. “I should—uh—get the bed out.”
“I’ll do it,” I said, too quickly. “Sit down.”
Cameron obeyed, smiling as I unfolded the sofa bed, tugging at the sheets until the corners were square. The domesticity of it should have steadied me, but each small movement felt weighted.
“Thanks.” Cameron cocked his head to one side. “You take care of everyone, don’t you?”
“Force of habit.” I watched as Cameron flopped onto the bed.
His smile faltered into something gentler. “You don’t have to do it alone.”
The air between us was warm and fragile, and for a heartbeat I thought Cameron might reach for me again. I wanted him to. But then Cameron’s gaze went unfocused, and I took a step back.
“You should sleep.”
Cameron nodded, too slow. “Stay, just for a bit?”
I hesitated. “You need rest.”
“I need—” Cameron began, then stopped, his eyes closing. Whatever he was about to say dissolved into a sigh.
I caught the edge of the blanket before it slipped to the floor, and tucked it around him. For a moment I stood there, watching the steady rise and fall of Cameron’s breathing, the faint smile that lingered even in sleep.
The ache that rose in my chest wasn’t lust now, but something quieter, heavier.
Wanting.
Wishing.
Maybe even a dash of fear.
I whispered, almost to myself, “What am I doing?”
The answer was obvious—taking care of Cameron, as I’d promised I would.
Chapter Sixteen
Cameron
The first thingI noticed was the light. It was too bright, the kind that sliced through sleep.
The second thing was the blanket tucked neatly around me.
And then I saw Theo.
He was asleep in the armchair opposite, slumped sideways, his head resting on one hand. The sight was so rare, an unguarded, human Theo, that I didn’t move for fear of shattering the moment.
My memory came back in flashes: the bar, Raquel’s laugh, a lot of alcohol, the ride home, the warmth of Theo’s hands steadying me as I nearly tripped. The rest was blurred at the edges, but the feeling of safety, of heat and want, lingered.