Page 7 of Curious
We pass through a gate and go down a landscaped path along the left side of the house. Cam is limping and moving very gingerly, but I’m not going to annoy him by repeating my offer of help.
The large backyard opens up to a medium-sized swimming pool and a pool house at the far end of the lot. It’s all super nice, and I recognize some of the projects from the Ad/VICE channel: A fire feature near the pool. A sculptural fountain. An outdoor kitchen.
We go to the pool house, and Cam opens it up. I try to act surprised at the adorable unit. There’s a bright, cozy bedroom with a sleek bathroom. While the building is a functional pool house that has towel storage, an outdoor shower, and a changing room, with the bedroom setup, it feels more like a studio apartment, with even a tiny fridge and microwave. The design is very airy and light, and it feels immediately soothing. Like a home.
Cam kind of props himself up against the doorway and fiddles with his keychain. “Here’s the key. You can come and go as you like, but the house is basically uninhabitable, so I’d advise staying in here.”
“I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”
Cam shakes his head and scratches the back of his neck. “I’m not.” He looks down at his foot. “Um, I’d help you bring your other bags in, but …”
I wave my hand. “I can handle it. It’s not much. And I need to go to the store, since I’m not totally sure what toiletries I grabbed—and I have no food, though right now I don’t have much of an appetite. It’s okay, I got this.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, it’s no problem.” On impulse, before Cam can turn and limp away, I bound over to him and hug him around his waist, careful not to pull him onto his bad foot. He smells like hard work and breezy sunshine, and his muscular torso feels amazing. He tenses, then returns the hug, wrapping a big bicep around me. “Thanks,” I whisper.
He lets go of me and ruffles my hair. “You’re welcome. Get settled. I’ll find some ice and bring you the first aid kit.”
Rather than embarrass him by watching him slowly make his way to the house, I head back to my car to get the rest of my things.
* * *
“So, in summary, Camden Cooper not only ran to my rescue but is also my new landlord,” I say to Noah the following morning at work, as we get our coffees in the break room.
Noah’s tall, with light hair and blue eyes, and he’s rocking a tailored dark gray suit. He grins and sips his coffee, then starts fixing another cup. I know who that’s for—his new husband and longtime best friend, August. He studies my face. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I took some meds. It’s just a bruise.” A few pain relievers and some ice helped a lot. And I’m wearing makeup to cover most of what’s left.
The stuff you can’t see—words, insults, the silent treatment—hurts more than any punch, anyway. I learned that growing up.
“Cam coming to save you sounds kind of romantic,” Noah says.
“Yeah.” I sigh. “But he’s straight.”
“Ah, then he’s your type.”
I huff, but I smile, too. Noah knows me well. “Since when did you get so sassy?”
“Since he married me.” August walks up behind Noah, wraps his arms around him, and kisses his cheek. Like Noah, August is also tall and wearing a suit. His brown eyes glimmer with mischief.
I can’t help my grin. “God, it’s good to see you two finally be open and affectionate.”
They both smile at me, and I feel a twinge in my heart. I think it might be jealousy? Not sure. All I know is that I want what they have: a loving and supportive relationship that the whole world can see.
“Hey, Shelbs, do you want to plan the holiday party this year?” Noah asks. “Or you and someone else? Demi, maybe?”
“I’m always up for planning a party. What’s the budget?”
“I’ll email you,” he says. “Have fun with it. You can make it family friendly and we can go bowling, or whatever. I know you’ll come up with something good.”
“Sounds like fun!”
Alden walks in, stows his lunch bag in the fridge, and looks around. He’s gotten less shy since he started working here, and he gives us a little wave, his curly mop of hair falling into his eyes as he makes himself a cup of tea.
Demi, our office manager, strides into the room behind him, holding an iPad. She’s petite, with black hair and brown eyes. And she seems like she’s on a mission. “Now that you’re married, do you think you guys will have any changes in your insurance?” she asks Noah and August. “I’m taking a survey for when I talk with our broker. I know open enrollment doesn’t start until November, but I have a meeting with her next week.”
They look at each other. “I think we can keep it how it is,” August says slowly.
