by May Archer
Cort nodded slowly. “I’ll need to go as your date.”
And suddenly the entirety of Friday night made sense. Cort had wanted to ensure people saw them together, to make the ruse less obvious, and maybe to make Cam more amenable. Anger and disappointment churned in his gut.
I trusted you! he wanted to scream.
He needed to get Cort out of his office before he did something completely inexcusable, like cry.
Cam stood, signaling the meeting was over. “I’ll have to talk to my attorneys, Mr. Cortland. I mean, Agent Cortland. I’ll get back to you.” His hands were clenched into fists down by his sides, and it was too much to expect of Cort not to notice.
Cort glanced at Cam’s face and hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “Time and secrecy are crucial here. Nobody can know about this besides the two of us. This offer is off the table once I leave this room.” He paused, then continued in a rush. “The choice is yours, Cam. I- I can’t say for sure whether we would choose to pursue a case against your brother even if you decided to say no.” He looked at Cam, really looked at him, as he had two nights before. “But I am begging you, please, to say yes.”
Cam turned away and looked out the enormous window behind his desk. Boston was shimmering in the morning sunlight, but he could barely see it. Neither choice was good. Or, no, neither choice was easy, he realized ruefully. Decide quick, Cam. Your fear, or your brother’s life?
“And you can guarantee if I agree, Bas won’t be prosecuted?”
“It’s not a get out of jail free card. But I can assure you he won’t be prosecuted by the FBI for this particular crime, no.”
The logical part of Cam’s brain - the part which was shoved back into the tiniest corner of his mind whenever Cort walked into the room and Cam’s dick took over - reminded him the smart thing to do would be to call Drew. Was this whole scheme even legal? But it would mean admitting the guy Drew had seen him chatting with on Friday night had been conning him all along.
And really, how amazing would it be if he could get to St. Brigitte? He’d prove to Drew he wasn’t weak. He’d do his duty as a Seaver and a representative of Seaver Tech, and would show up at the gala with Cort as his arm candy. He could take control of this situation, redeem it completely. All he had to do was… fly.
The very idea made him nauseous.
Still, he turned to Cort and nodded once, firmly. “Fine, then. We’ll do this your way.”
Cort blinked, almost as though he hadn’t expected Cam to agree, but he recovered and nodded smoothly. “Alright, good. That’s very... good.”
“I’ll have my assistant make the arrangements and email you about the dress code,” he said, grabbing Cort’s business card from the desk for the first time.
“Dress code,” Cort echoed. “Right.”
“We’ll leave on Friday afternoon, since the first cocktail reception is usually in the early evening.” He grabbed his phone and entered Cort’s contact information, making a note to have Margaret check the schedule of events for the party. “If you’re going to be my date, we’ll need a cover story. Who you are, all that sort of thing. You can email or text me whatever you come up with.”
“I don’t text. Or email.”
Cam glanced down at him. “You do if you’re going to be my date.”
Now Cort scowled. “Can’t we talk on the phone?”
Cam snorted. “No. We’re not at that stage in our relationship yet.”
“I’ve had your dick in my mouth,” Cort reminded him angrily.
“That was before I realized you were sucking me off for a purpose, Cort. You’re very dedicated to your job,” Cam sneered. “Your superiors must be so proud.”
Cort flushed and got to his feet, storming around the desk. “That had nothing to do with this.”
“Oh, no? Well, I think you’d have to agree, as circumstantial evidence goes, it’s pretty freaking strong. What’s your expert opinion on that, Agent Cortland?”
Cort crowded him against the window, and Cam’s hands flew to his sides as Cort crushed their chests together. “My expert opinion is… you need to be taught some manners.”
Cam’s breath caught, his anger forgotten for a mere second under a tidal wave of lust. Yes, yes, yes!
“No,” he said, pushing Cort back a step. “This… thing,” he gestured between the two of them, “is not happening again. It’s non-negotiable.”
“This… thing,” Cort drawled. “Like when I ordered you to keep your hands against the wall, and sucked you off in a stairway? In a stairway where anyone could have seen us, Cam, and you got off on it completely? Like me making you come so hard I can still taste you on my tongue? Is that the thing you mean?”
Cam ground his teeth together. “I mean Friday night’s momentary lapse in judgment, which is probably how I’m going to characterize my entire interaction with you.”
Cort smiled, hands on his hips. “You say the sweetest things.”
But Cam wouldn’t let him pass this off as a joke. His voice was controlled and deadly serious when he spoke. “Friday night, I thought you and I had something special. Obviously, I was dead wrong.”
Cam swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, as he watched Cort’s eyes track the motion. “I understand now that I was an idiot,” he whispered. “I knew better, and I fell for the delusion anyway. I won’t make excuses. I shared things, personal things I had no business sharing. That was my mistake. I own that. But I am not going to make the same mistake twice. I don’t know a thing about you, and I don’t want to, because I sure as hell am never going to trust you again. Do you understand?”
Cort blinked and his jaw worked. There would be no more commands, no more submission.
“I didn’t lie to you. I made sure I didn’t lie to you,” Cort told him, and it sounded shockingly like an apology, but it wasn’t good enough.
“That’s tremendously comforting. You misled me, and I won’t pretend to understand why or what you thought you’d accomplish by getting me to have sex with you—”
“I told you,” he interrupted gruffly. “That wasn’t part of the plan. I got caught up in things just like you did.”
Cam shook his head. How gullible did the man think he was, anyway? “And I told you, I don’t trust you. So, here’s how this is going to work. I agree to your stupid blackmail bullshit, and we are going to the damn party.” He swallowed down the bile rising in his throat at the thought. “You will be my date, I will take you to the island.” He paused. “Do you understand? You win. You got what you wanted from me - you made me look like an idiot and you got me to agree. So you don’t need to con me anymore. Don’t pretend to be my friend or to have any interest in me beyond what I can do for you. In fact, for God’s sake, don’t talk to me at all.”
He stepped away from Cort - from the overwhelming heat and presence of the man - and walked to the other side of the office, throwing open the door.
“Margaret,” he called to his assistant. “Change of plans.”
Chapter Ten
Cam walked out to the subway on Monday evening, clutching his phone in his hand. He’d received a terse email from Margaret - who was likely still annoyed Cam had done a complete one-eighty on his plans for St. Brigitte and refused to explain the change - saying he needed to follow up with Cort about his tuxedo. Of all the stupid, domesticated bullshit things to have to text about.
He pushed his way through the barrier and found an empty spot against the grimy wall on the platform.
[Cam:] Agent Cortland, my assistant Margaret asked me to inform you that she emailed you a copy of the weekend itinerary earlier today and you didn’t reply. If you’d like her to provide you with a tuxedo, which is required for Saturday night, please reply to her with your sizes.
There. He praised himself for being businesslike and not allowing the anger and hurt still competing in his brain to spew out onto the screen. Dealing with Cort would be like dealing with a member of the board from now on. Polite and remote.<
br />
[Cort:] i got her email told you earlier today i don’t text hate typing from my phone my fingres are too big
It was not cute. It was not cute.
[Cam:] Sounds like a personal problem. Do you need the tux?
[Cort:] yes pls i will send the infod
[Cam:] Jesus, this is painful. Did you know if you turned your phone to the side, the keyboard is larger?
[Cort:] Oh. This is much easier.
[Cam:] Welcome to 2017. It’s almost over.
[Cort:] whatever.
He would not be swayed by the fact text-Cort was every bit as sweet and funny as in-person-Cort, without the same electric intimidation factor he had in real life.
I hate him, Cam reminded himself firmly. Hate.
The hate carried him home and stayed with him as he forced himself to eat a lackluster dinner. He settled himself on the sofa with a new mystery novel, but couldn’t force himself to concentrate.
He was hurt, seriously hurt. It was partly wounded pride, but it felt like more. He felt stupid, like the control he thought he’d been giving Cort had never really been his to begin with.
His phone buzzed from the side-table.
[Cort:] Patriots pre-season is on. Are you watching?
Cam ignored him. Whatever trick Cort was playing now, he could play alone.
[Cort:] Never have I ever seen a red sox game
[Cam:] I’m not playing this with you
[Cort:] Your excitement is palpable. CONTROL YOURSELF.
Cam found himself smiling and forced his lips to frown instead. God, why was he so weak with this guy?
[Cort:] I’m not much of a baseball fan personally. I used to watch football every week with my brother.
[Cam:] I think you’ve forgotten how to play this game
[Cort:] Nah. If you’re talking to me, I’m winning.
Cam rolled his eyes. Yeah, right.
[Cam:] Are you drunk?
[Cort:] No. Why?
[Cam:] Good night, Cort.
Cam stared at his phone as it buzzed on Tuesday evening. He’d just sat down to re-watch an old season of Leverage, and was massively annoyed with himself. Cort hadn’t texted all day - which was great, totally great. Exactly what Cam had wanted. They’d do the thing this weekend, and then they wouldn’t ever talk again, which was exactly how…
[Cort:] Okay, new game. You ready?
Cam’s heart did not start to beat faster at the knowledge that Cort had been thinking about him. It didn’t. It was probably the extra caffeine he’d had this morning.
[Cam:] Will it matter if I say no?
[Cort:] Two truths and a lie. I’ll go first.
[Cort:] I know all the verses of The Star-Spangled Banner
[Cort:] I have seen every episode of Baywatch
[Cort:] I really hate when you’re all bitchy and silent during these convos
Not charming. Or cute. He didn’t love how random Cort was, or seeing the man drop his guard this way. He didn’t like the way Cort constantly surprised him and charmed him without trying, without puzzling out the things Cam wanted to hear.
[Cam:] You know how this works, right? Two of those things are supposed to be true and only one is supposed to be a lie?
[Cort:] Yep. The instructions are in the title, badass. I get it.
Cam snorted. He hadn’t even been going for bitchy and silent, more like annoyed and scared shitless. He didn’t need to know Cort any better. He didn’t need to like him any more than he already did, when he knew he couldn’t trust him.
[Cam:] Whatever. You’re an FBI agent. Maybe they make you memorize the anthem. Baywatch is a lie.
[Cort:] Nope.
[Cam:] I call bullshit.
[Cort:] Ha! One of the houses I stayed at while I was a kid had a TV that only played videos. Like on tapes. And it was either that or Cop Rock.
[Cam:] I don’t know what that is?
[Cort:] Google it. I’ll hold.
[Cam:] God. I would have chosen Baywatch too. There were hot people, anyway.
[Cort:] There was this whole shark storyline. People died. You should watch it.
[Cam:] I’m not watching Baywatch.
[Cort:] You’re totally gonna go watch Baywatch.
Whatever. David Hasselhoff was kinda hot in a bossy way, which got Cam thinking about all kinds of things he really didn’t want to be thinking about, and…
[Cort:] And for the record, the lie was me not liking when you’re bitchy. I like it a lot. It totally turns me on.
What the hell was Cam supposed to do with that? He didn’t want this. He didn’t trust this.
[Cam:] Good night, Cort.
And okay, so maybe he might have checked whether there were any old episodes of Baywatch on Netflix.
Cam woke up on Wednesday morning, a little hungover from a restless sleep and trippy dreams. He’d found episodes of Baywatch to stream, and he wasn’t exactly proud of it, but that guilty pleasure had nothing on the dreams that had followed. He knew exactly what Cort looked like dripping wet and barely dressed, and so maybe it wasn’t entirely bizarre when in his dreams, The Hoff had suddenly morphed into Cort, running down the beach with that weird torpedo thing under his arm, broad chest gleaming in the sun. But waking up with a hard-on for the guy who’d been a one-night mistake was lowering.
Cort didn’t really like him. Cam wasn’t sure exactly what game he was playing, but it was time to regain control.
[Cam:] Do you have any food allergies?
[Cort:] Nope. Do you?
[Cam:] No. I’m only asking so I could let the Tyndalls know.
[Cort:] You don’t need to make up an excuse to text me, badass.
[Cam:] Or maybe I wanted to poison you. Maybe you’d deserve it.
[Cort:] There are much more effective ways to bring me to my knees. Wanna hear them?
[Cam:] Fuck off, Cortland.
[Cort:] Knew it.
Well. That had gone about as well as Cam could have expected.
He went to work, determined to do his job, to focus on the things he could control. But he couldn’t deny the way his stomach flipped when his phone buzzed later that morning.
[Cort:] So, how’s work going?
[Cam:] Fine.
[Cort:] I’m kind of off this week. Bored.
[Cam:] How can I sleep safe at night knowing the FBI is missing its best agent?
Bored. Cam almost couldn’t conceive of Cort, all two-hundred-pounds of exasperating, panic-inducing wet-dream, sitting around bored. He frowned as he propped his feet up on his desk and stared out of the window at the cloudy gray sky.
What did Cort do for fun? Who else did he have in his life?
And why the hell did he care when he was supposed to be putting the man out of his mind?
When Cort didn’t reply after a moment, Cam frowned at the screen. Perhaps his message had been a little nastier than he’d intended.
[Cam:] Why aren’t you chillin with Baywatch? How can you call yourself a true fan?
[Cort:] Do they have those movies on Netflix?
[Cam:] No.
[Cam:] Maybe.
[Cam:] I wouldn’t know.
[Cort:] Oh my God. You watched them. You DID. Just when I thought I couldn’t like you more!!!
Cam rolled his eyes and fought the warmth creeping up his neck. Only words. They were only words, and Cort didn’t mean them.
So why was the man still texting? Why was Cam still responding?
[Cam:] Don’t you have some other poor guy you can con into liking you, Cort? Surely I’m not the only one.
[Cort:] It wasn’t a con.
[Cam:] What would you call it?
Cam waited a long time, watching the three little dots next to Cort’s name circle and circle and then disappear. He shook his head. He shouldn’t be disappointed. He wasn’t disappointed.
[Cort:] Already told you. I would call it the best night I’ve ever had.
[Cam:] Because you got me where you wanted me.
>
[Cort:] Because it was real, even though it wasn’t supposed to be.
Cam did not have the capacity to handle this. His stupid, traitorous heart leapt at the words.
[Cam:] Wow. I’m all aflutter. I bet you say that to all the guys you fuck for information.
[Cort:] Jesus. I think you’re just trying to convince *yourself* now.
Ding ding ding. Give the FBI agent a prize. It was disturbing that Cort could read him so well. It was even more disturbing that Cam wasn’t having an easy time convincing himself. It had to be an act, but Cam couldn’t figure out why, or what the endgame was.
[Cam:] You’re right. I’m deluding myself.
[Cam:] I mean, I’m kind of the total package - sexy, rich, daddy issues. Makes sense you’d go for me.
[Cam:] Who *wouldn’t*?
[Cort:] Keep being snarky, badass. Remember what it does to me.
[Cort:] In fact, since I’m here all alone, I’m gonna re-read your sassy texts and have a private moment.
Cam rolled his eyes. Infuriating man!
[Cam:] Trying to work here.
[Cam:] Cort?
[Cam:] Cort, I swear to God, you’d better not be jerking off to my bitchy texts.
[Cam:] You. Make. Me. Insane.
It was after seven o’clock and Cam had been fighting a losing battle against texting Cort again… or, okay, he’d actually been brainstorming stupid pretexts for messaging the man… when his phone buzzed in his hand.
[Cort:] Okay, five questions.
Cam waited a full two minutes, just staring at the screen, before replying. Not that Cam was playing mind games or anything, because that would be wrong.
[Cam:] Another game?
[Cort:] Nope, not a game. We just ask each other five questions. You have to answer honestly.
[Cort:] First person who refuses to answer loses.
That didn’t sound completely terrifying whatsoever.
Cam set his jaw. Hadn’t he given Cort enough honesty already?
He stared at the phone in his hand, feeling as though he was standing on the ten-meter diving board back in high-school. He’d only ascended that platform once, on a dare, and from the ground it hadn’t seemed scary at all. He was co-captain of the swim team, not afraid of water or heights, so no big deal, right?