Page 23 of You're So Vine
As I said before, we Durants are masters of the poker face. When we’re fully focused. Now that I’ve been caught in a weak moment, I could admit all my fears, let them tumble out and pile up for all to see. But Cam’s right. Some habits die hard.
“Two things I’m not good at,” I say. “Not the complete list, but it’ll do for now. I hate not knowing if something’s good or bad, and I hate having to wait to find out.”
“Yeah,” Cam says slowly. “That sucks.”
I sense he’s holding back, and my need to know overrides my need for caution.
“Doc say anything to you?” I ask.
Cam shrugs. “Tests. No more than that.”
Uh-uh. No shrugging on my watch. “Did he seem worried?”
He goes super still.
Fuck. The last fume of energy evaporates and takes my self-control with it. I drop my face into my hands and try to breathe.
“Fuck,” I mumble though my fingers.
Cam’s hand lightly touches my shoulder.
“He’s worried because he cares about you,” he says. “Only natural.”
Nice try, but his unease is palpable.
“Fuck!”
I jump up from the table, grab my plate and Cam’s and take them to the sink. Run the water too hard and get a jet right in the face.
“FUCK!”
I start rubbing my eyes furiously until a calloused hand takes mine and gently pulls them down.
“Here.”
Cam has a dishtowel, and he wipes my face like I’m a little kid. I half expect him to get a tissue and say, “Blow.”
That’s it. I’m officially a wrung-out wreck. Cam’s chest is conveniently at head height, so I wrap my arms around him and rest my cheek on the soft flannel of his shirt and breathe deep the woody smell that probably never leaves him. His arms circle me in return and under his shirt, I can hear his heart’s steady beat and feel his amazingmuscles. A tiny spark of energy zings through me, but I don’t want sex right now, I want comfort. Okay, sex would be good, too, but right now, I’m loving this hug.
“I can come with you,” he says. “If you want. To the tests.”
And I’m loving this offer. But I feel like I’ve already asked waytoo much of him.
“That would be boring for you,” I say. “And I would be cranky. Want to re-think?”
“No.”
Wow. I’m glad he doesn’t seem in a hurry to break the hug, because I may want to rest against his chest forever.
“Are we getting off to a good start?” I ask him. “Or is this a complete shit show?”
Cam’s ribs move up and down with silent laughter.
“My whole life’s been a shit show,” he says. “This is the best thing that’s happened to me in … forever.”
Wow, again.
I lift my head and look up at him, checking his expression for … what? Sincerity? He’s frown-smiling, like you do when you’re worried you’ve said too much. I have a sudden urge to be more honest with him than comes natural to me.
