Page 105 of The Boyfriend Gamble

Instead, I was met with silence.

Cameron met my gaze. “No. It's three am, and I woke up to pee, and that means it's morning, so I just wanted to tell you that I still love you, and now you can go back to sleep.” He rolled out of bed and sauntered to the bathroom.

Right. And after looking at your ass and springing a boner, you think I’m just…going to go back to sleep?I sipped water from the glass I’d put next to my side. The townhouse was super dry, so I kept a glass for myself as well.

I continued to sip as he came back into the room.

He stopped when our gazes met. “I thought I told you to go back to sleep.”

“Uh, sure. And when have I ever done what you’ve told me to do?”

He frowned. “Uh…”

“Because you never tell me, Cameron. You always ask. Even when you think you know better, you’re egalitarian.”

“I usually am right.”

I laughed softly. “Well, that’s up for debate. Pineapple juice should not be a thing.”

“It’s high in vitamin…” He trailed off. “Yeah, I get it.”

“I thought you might. How’s your head? Need a painkiller?”

He shook his head. “Nah. And I’m sober. Enough to realize both that I made an ass of myself and that I owe Tanner a huge debt of gratitude.”

“Yes, I worried you might try to drive.”

“No matter how much I love you, I would never drive after drinking.”

I believed him. So I patted the mattress next to me. “Come back to bed.”

“To have sex?”

“Uh, Cameron, it’s three in the morning.”

He pouted.

Actually, honest to God, stuck his lower lip out.

“I mean, I guess…”

He dove for his nightstand drawer. He tossed me the bottle of lube and fingered a condom wrapper. “I got tested.”

“As did I. I saw Dr. MacCauley yesterday. All negative. He says I’m good because I’ve had three negative tests.”

“Me, too.” He dragged his lower lip through his teeth.

“I’m happy to ditch condoms.” I offered a smile. “I don’t figure you’re going to cheat. I mean, if we’re exclu—”

“Oh, we are so fucking exclusive. Like forever kind of exclusive.”

He doesn’t know what he’s saying. He’s likely still drunk. Or hungover. Or something.

“I’m good, then, bareback.” I’d done it with my ex—so thanks to whomever was watching over me that he hadn’t brought some nasty thing home with him.

Cameron dropped the condom back into the drawer and made a bit show of closing it. “Now…can I fuck you? I swear I’m sober. And if you say no—”

“The answer’syes.” We’d discussed this just a couple of days ago. He’d expressed interest, but had still been concerned. I believed him when he said he was sober. His eyes were clear.

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