Page 70 of Curious
When I get home from work, I curl up next to Cam on the couch. He’s watching football, and he wraps an arm around me and kisses the top of my head. He’s so readily affectionate, it throws me for a loop. I’m like a mangy cat, unused to getting affection or any positive attention, while he’s a happy dog.
“Cam,” I say, when there’s a commercial break. He mutes the TV and turns to me.
“Yeah?”
“Can we talk about something?”
A distressed look flashes across his face, probably due to my tone of voice. “Sure,” he says warily.
“It’s not something bad.”
“Okay.” I can’t miss the relief in how his shoulders relax.
I straighten my backbone and look at him straight in the eyes. “It’s just … I like you. A lot.”
“I like you, too.” He smiles. Ugh. That smile. But it fades when he sees my expression.
“No, that’s the problem, Camden. When this started, you were safe—I mean, I was safe with you—because you were straight. Someone I didn’t have any issues with, because nothing was ever going to happen between us.”
“You don’t want us to—” Cam goes to move, and I quickly straddle him, cupping his stubbled jaw.
“No. I do. You don’t understand.” I sigh. “Probably because I’m not explaining this clearly.” I start again. “I’ve always liked you. I had a crush on you before you even talked to me the first time.” He raises an eyebrow, but I keep going. “At firm events, and, um, on your videos, I always thought you were hot and kind. I always wanted you, but I also knew you were off-limits, which meant that you were safe to fantasize about, since nothing would ever happen. I didn’t have to risk getting my heart involved. Now, because we’ve been doing this”—I gesture at our bodies—“it’s not safe anymore.”
Cam shifts under me. “Then we should stop. I’d never want you to feel bad.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. I don’t want to feel the way I do, and yet I don’t want to stop. I like you, Cam. I really do.” I catch his eyes, and they look so sincere. I force myself to keep going. “But if you’re not in this with me for real, if it’s just a temporary thing … I mean, it always was supposed to be, that was the deal, but things have changed. I guess what I’m saying is, if I’m going to get dumped at the end of this because you’re not on the same page, I think I want to know now.” My hands are shaking, and I feel lightheaded and nauseated. I don’t want to pressure him, but I also don’t want him to say no.
“Oh, Shelby,” he says. His gentle tone reaches somewhere deep inside me. “You just need someone to love you.”
“I do,” I whisper. “I don’t know if that someone is you.”
He shrugs. “I don’t know if it is, either, but I feel like it is. Don’t you?”
“Yeah. That’s what scares me so much.”
“I don’t want you to be scared. Is that what’s been bothering you? That you don’t think I truly like you, deep down, regardless of health insurance or anything else?”
I nod, picking at his shirt.
“Shelby, let me say this clearly: I really care about you. What we have together is real. If you ever start doubting us, tell me, and I’ll remind you.” He looks thoughtful. “My parents have a good marriage, and they’ve shown us how they do it: by being there. I want to be there for you. And I will be there.”
His words make me warm inside, and they feel both safe and dangerous at the same time. He’s giving me what I want, but I can’t help knowing that it could be taken away. He could be doing this just to humor me. Except I think he’s not.
Somehow, what he just said seems like more of a vow than the one we made at the courthouse. With no witnesses, no paperwork, no legal issues. Declaring something to each other. Is that what marriage is?
“Cam? This unconditional support that you’re offering… I’ve never had that. Support has always been dependent on what I could give back. Or, with my mom, how much I could stay invisible and out of the way.”
He gives me a sad smile. “Then I’ll keep at it and keep showing you that I want to be with you.”
“Thanks,” I whisper. “I’m sorry I’m a work in progress.”
“We all are.”
I cuddle into him, but somewhere inside me is the little boy who wasn’t wanted. And he’ll always worry that promises won’t mean anything in the end.
I can’t help but be hopeful, though. As Alden says, just because something happened before doesn’t mean I’m doomed to repeat it. I can move past the past and into the future. Or, better, the present. Because right now, I have my beautiful husband—and boyfriend—under me, and he’s looking pretty damned wonderful.
“So, what’s this about you having a crush on me before you really knew me?” Cam’s tone is gentle but teasing.
