Page 117 of Delicious

“Why?”

“What if your dad finds out?”

“I’m an adult. He doesn’t get to dictate who I fuck. Or who I date.”

Date. The word hangs between us. He was making a statement, so why did it feel like a question?

“It’s not that simple, Cameron. This could ruin my friendship with your dad.”

He wrinkles his nose. “If it does, it wasn’t much of a friendship.”

If only that were true. Oh, to be able to see the world through the eyes of a twenty-five-year-old again, when you’re convinced everything is yours for the taking and that nothing is complicated. Sadly, life is complicated. Friendships are complicated. Relationships even more so.

“Let’s not worry about it now,” I say. Which is a cop-out if ever there was one.

“Just enjoy the moment?”

“Yes.”

“All right.”

It’s not all right, but apparently, we’re also willing to bury our heads in the sand.

“What about your marking?” Cameron asks.

“Forget the marking. I want to stay in bed with you.”

“Sounds wonderful.” He snuggles against me.

I wrap my arm around him and hold him tight. For the next few hours, I intend to forget that anything outside this room exists. For the next few hours, it’s just me and Cameron.

ChapterNine

Cameron

The moment we leave Euan’s bedroom to pick the boys up from school, something shifts between us. The flirtiness is gone. We maintain a reserved distance from one another. We’re careful not to glance at the other for too long. To not make eye contact. I hate it. I want to kiss him. I want to hold him. I want to run my fingers through his hair. It’s the not knowing what—if anything—is going to happen next. We avoided a much-needed conversation in favour of pretending the outside world didn’t exist, but it does. I don’t care what Dad thinks about me and Euan hooking up, but Euan obviously does. Does my age bother him too? Was telling him I liked him a dumb idea?

The boys race up to us. It’s refreshing to only have one of them tackle-hugging me at a time.

Elliott bounces on the soles of his feet. “Did you make cupcakes?”

I smile. “Yes.”

The boys jump and fist-bump the air.

“You’re the best. Dad.” Peter hugs Euan. Then he hugs me. “And you, Cam. Thanks a bunch.”

“We have invitations.” Elliott takes an envelope out of his bag and hands it to me.

I pull a space-themed card out of the envelope and read the invitation. “A sleepover party?”

“At David’s. For his birthday. It’s a week on Friday. Can I go?”

“Can I go too?” Peter gives Euan an identical invitation.

Euan frowns. “It says the party starts at five. I’m not sure I’ll be home in time to give you a lift.”

“I can take them,” I say.

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