Page 20 of Curious Cameron
"Understandable. You and your husband must be so busy getting settled in. How lucky we've run into each other now and have plenty of time to chat." And to snoop, apparently. Julian peers curiously at my trash can. "So. What happened here?"
I wipe my bangs away from my forehead. Despite the blistering heat, Julian's in a polo shirt and white jeans. I don't know how he can stand the heat like that. I'm in shorts and a tank top but I'm still overheating. "That's dinner. Or it was supposed to be dinner. I messed up real bad and the cheese got all burned."
Julian wiggles his nose. "What was it supposed to be?"
"Baked ziti."
"I see," he says with wide eyes. "Well. If at first you don't succeed, try, try again."
"Maybe another time." I shrug my shoulders. I consider the ziti a lost cause for today and I'm already thinking about what else I can serve for dinner tonight. Something that doesn't require the oven. Maybe we'll do cereal or sandwiches. "I used up most of the cheddar."
"What about your mozzarella?"
"We didn't have any so I didn't use it."
"You-you only used cheddar cheese for baked ziti?" Julian blinks at me in rapid succession.
I wilt underneath the sun…and Julian's barely concealed judgment. "Yeah?"
"Well, that won't do. I'll help you figure out a new dinner menu for tonight."
I start to protest, but Julian's already rounding the fence. He's a red-haired flurry of rapid-fire suggestions and advice. "Take me to the scene of your culinary crimes," he declares, linking arms with me and marching us both through the doorway and into the kitchen.
Chapter 9
Cameron
"You know all the houses on this row have the exact same layout, but I love what you've done to the place. It's so…spartan."
"Thank you?"
I don't think I've ever been so intimidated in my life. No menacing school bullies or frigid and disapproving foster parents compare to the terror I feel as Julian takes himself on a self-guided tour of my house.
I smile a little at the thought. Yeah, my house. Shared with Trevor, of course, but this is my house and home.
"You have such unique decor choices," Julian jabbers as he peeks into each room on the ground level. "Mid-century modern meets contemporary man-cave. Are you sure your beau is gay?"
There's an icicle of fear hanging over me that has nothing to do with the chill of the air conditioner. "W-what?"
"Oh, relax," Julian says without looking at me. "I was only joking. You've met my soldier, Joel. He's as straight-acting as yours. All that rah-rah masculinity."
Straight-acting? I don't know what that means. There's so much I don't know. I should have made Trevor put me through a gay boot camp before he brought me home to Fort Cactus. It's something I'll have to look up later on my phone.
Julian disappears into the kitchen and I'm left scrambling to catch up with him. How can a guy so short walk that fast?
And I don't dare to ask Julian for the definition.
He's gay. Like, really gay. Even in the way he talks and walks. He's the type of guy who would have gotten shoved in lockers just because everybody would be able to tell which way he swung as soon as he opened his mouth.
Fuck, I'm thinking like an asshole, aren't I? Yeah, I am.
While Julian is distracted disassembling the kitchen, I unpack my thoughts. I can't let my confusion and insecurities about myself as I navigate my big sexuality awakening turn me into a jerk.
Julian might be a little…much, but he's being kind to me. In his own way. Even if he is a little pushy and a lot bossy.
"So, this is the scene of your cheese crimes?" Julian asks with his hands on his slender hips as he surveys my kitchen after he's done peeking through all the cupboards. He doesn't look very pleased. I can't blame him. The kitchen is, admittedly, a mess. I haven't cleaned up at all yet. It kind of does look like something died. Smells like it too. The death of dinner.
"I didn't know." I shrug my shoulders. "I thought cheese is just cheese?"
