by May Archer
But when he’d climbed to the top deck, reality had set in. He’d been around divers enough to know that breaching the water from that height hurt. You had to break the surface with your palms so you wouldn’t brain yourself by smacking your head against the water, but they said even then, you’d feel the impact all the way up your spine, in every one of your muscles. It would be painful and disorienting.
The payoff was a massive adrenaline rush that made you feel like you could conquer the world, but first you had to survive the jump.
[Cam:] Not interested.
[Cort:] We’re pretending to be dates on Saturday. We should know some basic shit about each other.
[Cam:] God.
[Cam:] Did you not get enough of my sass to finish the job this afternoon?
[Cort:] Oh, no, I had plenty. And for round two, I remembered us on Friday night. Want to hear?
[Cam:] Ugh. No. I just ate.
[Cort:] You may not understand how honest answers work here, badass.
[Cort:] But I’m gonna go out on a limb and trust you.
[Cam:] What’s that like?
[Cort:] Enough snark. I will even be the bigger person and let you go first.
Fine. Clearly Cam was as susceptible to dares as he had been at seventeen. Whatever. If Cort was the water he had to break against, then so be it.
[Cam:] Awesome. I will win this game right now.
[Cam:] Tell me about your childhood.
[Cort:] That doesn’t count. Not a question.
Cam smirked and felt the rush of victory. He hadn’t expected Cort to answer.
Maybe he’d hoped, but he hadn’t expected.
He could totally handle this.
[Cam:] OMG, I can taste victory already. FINE. You said you watched Baywatch in one of the places you stayed growing up. Why were you staying someplace other than your home?
[Cort:] I was a foster kid. I didn’t have a permanent placement until I was 10.
Oh-kay. So that was new. Cam frowned at his phone. A foster kid. Cam remembered him mentioning his brother, saying his parents were something Cort wouldn’t discuss. How bad had it been for him?
His heart squeezed in sympathy, even as he rolled his eyes at himself.
That doesn’t excuse his behavior. It doesn’t. I would have helped him without the blackmail. I trusted him and he should have trusted me, too.
Except, maybe for a pair of idiots who hated trusting people, this was the only way it could have gone down.
He took too long to reply, and then Cort was writing again.
[Cort:] Stunned you, huh? That’s okay. My turn. Do you like pineapple on your pizza?
[Cam:] No. And you’re an idiot because we already discussed this on Friday.
[Cort:] I remember. Just an honesty check, Seaver. Your turn.
[Cam:] Rolling my eyes so hard right now.
Cam licked his lips. He wanted to know so many things Cort wouldn’t volunteer, like What were you really thinking Friday? and Where the hell do you see this going? and Why are we doing this? But he knew Cort probably didn’t have any better answers to those questions than Cam, so he went with the more straightforward question.
[Cam:] What’s your brother like?
Now it was Cort’s turn to take an unnaturally long pause, so long Cam debated withdrawing the question, maybe giving him an easy, food-related out. But Cam really wanted to know the answer, suddenly. He wanted Cort to share, and Cort had been the one to start this in the first place, so…
[Cam:] Oh, forfeiting already?
[Cort:] No. Jesus. It’s just hard to figure out what to say. How would YOU describe YOUR brother?
[Cam:] Tall. Genius. Occasional Asshole. Hates onions.
[Cort:] Okay. Damon’s big, loyal, long-haired, loves anything with an engine.
[Cam:] You make him sound like a dog.
And in a way, it made sense, because Cam sorta thought of Cort that way. Determined, playful, loyal to a fault. But Cort would never allow anyone to leash him.
[Cort:] Hush. Apple juice or orange juice, pick only one. And be aware this says a lot about you as a person.
[Cam:] Apple. You’re crazy.
[Cort:] Apple lovers are minimalists and romantics. Orange lovers are risk-takers who secretly crave attention. Wanna know mine?
Not charming, not charming. It was strange and silly and…
Oh, alright, fine. It was really fucking charming.
* * *
[Cam:] I already know. You even smell like oranges.
[Cort:] I do? Weird. Very cute that you remember what I smell like, though.
[Cam:] Only because it bugged me.
Such an obvious lie, Cam knew Cort would recognize it a mile away. Moreover, he knew Cort would see the pitiful truth Cam had just revealed, and how much his feelings were involved.
[Cam:] I just remembered I need to do my marathon training in the morning. Going to bed. Goodnight.
Ten miles under his belt before the sticky-tar humidity rose up from the pavement to swamp him Thursday morning had Cam in a fine mood. He stopped for a water break before crossing the bridge back into Cambridge. He was in control. He would apologize to Cort for ducking out - which hadn’t been cool - and he’d return them to the lighthearted banter they’d enjoyed earlier in the week.
Cort was right. If they were pretending to be together on Friday, they shouldn’t be at each other’s throats, but they didn’t need to become best buddies. He was going to message Cort to say so, when his phone buzzed from inside his armband.
[Cort:] Done running?
[Cam:] Hey, sorry about last night. Have to go to bed early to wake up early.
[Cort:] That’s fine. For the record, I won.
Cam scowled. Won? Like it had really been a contest? Whatever.
[Cam:] No way.
[Cort:] You forfeited.
[Cam:] No, I delayed play. Different thing. Look it up.
[Cort:] You ran from our convo like a chicken at a fox convention.
[Cam:] What the hell does that even mean?
[Cort:] It’s an expression. It means you ran because you didn’t like admitting how attracted you were to me.
[Cam:] I needed to sleep.
[Cort:] That dog won’t hunt.
* * *
Cam scowled down at his phone, ignoring the curious glances of the other early-morning joggers. He stood with his back against the bridge railing, almost oblivious to the sun rising around him and the smell of coffee which always seemed to pervade the streets at this hour.
Cort thought he’d run away, just like Drew did.
Well, two could play at this game.
[Cam:] Whatever. What’s with the dogs and chickens? Where the fuck did you grow up?
[Cort:] Lots of places.
[Cam:] Like?
[Cort:] Like, lots of places. I don’t remember them all.
[Cam:] Fine. We’re done now.
He clicked his phone screen off and resumed walking, unaccountably annoyed. Cort wanted to start this shit, but wouldn’t finish it. He wanted Cam to take all the risks and take none himself.
Not. Happening.
[Cort:] Are you pissy?
[Cam:] No.
Not that he planned to admit, anyway. But he couldn’t help adding, a second later:
[Cam:] But for the record, I won.
The next text came five minutes later, after Cam had walked over the bridge, bought himself a coffee, and turned onto his own quiet street. Maybe Cort had been in the shower, or working out, or making breakfast, but Cam knew in a way he couldn’t explain even if he wanted to, Cort had been staring at his phone screen for a long time… and maybe thinking about diving.
[Cort:] I spent the longest in Johnsville. It’s where I graduated high school. I lived there 8 years.
Cam sighed out loud and closed his eyes right there on the sidewalk. There were facts in that text, and Cam knew they were real and true, but they weren’t the whole story. Cort was sharing them bec
ause they were playing a game and he hated to lose, but Cam didn’t want to get information that way.
[Cam:] Listen, don’t start these convos if you don’t wanna share, k? You don’t owe me a thing and I don’t pry.
[Cort:] Sometimes I want to share, Cam. It’s just not easy. I’m out of practice, maybe.
Cam got it, maybe better than Cort could imagine. So maybe he was talking to them both as he typed:
[Cam:] Never gets easier if you don’t try.
[Cam:] Anyway, enjoy your vacation.
[Cort:] Will do. Starting a new hobby today.
Cam let himself into his building and stomped up the stairs to shower, wondering.
What if trust was the hard surface that could break him? What if Cort was the payoff he’d get if he did?
A little later that morning, Cam’s phone buzzed again as he was signing his name to approximately a thousand thank you cards which Margaret would send to generous SafeWater donors later that day. He threw his pen down on his desk and snatched up his phone to see what new things Cort had shared.
[Cort:] How many times do I have to shoot this thing before I get paid?
[Cam:] What?
[Cort:] This malevolent little fucker popped up in front of me and I shot him. Where is my money?
[Cam:] Cort? Are you seeing things? Do I need to call someone?
[Cort:] Funny. This shit was YOUR idea, Cam. Now I’m gonna get killed and you’re not even helping.
Was he drunk? Cam’s heart sank. Was Cort having a psychotic break, and all of this clearly-uncharacteristic sharing had been some type of symptom?
He rolled his eyes at himself. Fine. Not likely, but was it possible?
[Cam:] Okay. Text slowly. Use small words. What is going on right now?
[Cort:] Ah, God! It’s happening! I’m dying. Everything’s gone gray. Goodbye Cam! Goodbye. Remember me fondly.
[Cam:] WTF?
[Cort:] Okay. Crisis averted. I’ve respawned. Now, how the hell do I get paid?
[Cam:] Oh. My. Fucking. God. Are you playing a game right now?
[Cort:] Uh, yeah. Obviously. League of Legends. It’s the one you mentioned the other night, right?
[Cam:] ((headdesk))
Not charming. Not adorable. Gahhhhh!!
[Cam:] I have work to do.
Cam’s phone buzzed again while he was in his weekly board meeting, also known as the longest hour of the week. The urge to pull the phone from his pocket was almost overwhelming, but he refrained like a grownup. The second the first person began pushing their chair back from the table, he was reading his messages.
[Cort:] Cam, quick question: Do I get more gold if I kill the dragon?
[Cort:] Okay, I’m gonna assume bigger target, bigger payoff. I’m going in.
[Cort:] Thanks a lot. I’m dead again. You are no help whatsoever.
Cam rubbed a hand over his eyes.
Cort was a big, playful, shaggy dog. He was funny as hell, hot as fuck, and infuriating beyond belief.
[Cam:] I was in a meeting with the board of directors and two congressmen.
[Cort:] Yeah, well, meanwhile I was DYING. Again.
[Cam:] Right. I’m sorry you died while I was just fucking around over here.
Cam had walked the short distance back to his office before Cort replied.
[Cort:] Forgiven. IF you tell me how to kill the dragon.
[Cam:] First of all, that was sarcasm. Second, why do you want to kill the dragon?
[Cort:] To get the GOLD, Seaver.
Margaret poked her head into Cam’s office.
“Everything okay, Mr. Seaver?”
Cam glanced up at her, perplexed. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”
“You were laughing out loud, all by yourself,” she said, looking at him as if maybe he’d finally lost his mind.
And Cam had no explanation for that, since it was nothing less than the truth.
[Cam:] You don’t get gold for killing dragons, Cortland. And at your level, you can’t do it without teammates. Who are you playing with?
[Cort:] Eh. Pretty sure they’re middle-schoolers from, uh, Brazil? They speak Portuguese. I only understand the swear words.
[Cam:] JFC. You get gold from killing the minions. The dragon gives you a stat boost.
[Cort:] Oh. What about the big worm on the other side? Does he give me money?
[Cam:] NO! Stop! Don’t go after Baron.
[Cam:] Cort? Don’t go after the worm on your own. You’ll die again. Get the kids on your team to…
[Cam:] You know what? Nvm. I’m calling you.
Chapter Eleven
Cort smiled at his phone screen and cracked open a fresh bottle of beer. A few seconds later, it rang and he answered.
“You suck,” Cam said by way of greeting, and honest-to-God, Cort’s stomach flipped. He hadn’t been lying earlier when he said Cam’s bitchy tone, whether in text or speech, totally did it for him. Like pretty much everything that had happened since Friday night, it was fucked up but true.
“Is that any way to speak to a fellow gamer, Seaver?” Cort demanded.
Cam snorted. “I can’t believe you actually bought League of Legends and started playing.”
“Why not? My work laptop was just sitting here, and you said the game was good. You made it sound fun,” Cort returned.
Cam went silent for a moment as though he wasn’t quite sure how to take that, or how to reply. Cort felt guilt flare in his chest. And whose fault is it that everything is strained now, Cort?
Before walking into Cam’s office on Monday, he thought he’d known exactly how their meeting would go down. He’d still been shocked at how hard it had been for him to sit in that chair, watching Cam’s face veer from hope to crushing hurt because of Cort’s words. He’d been stunned by how much his own heart had ached when Cam had said, I thought you and I had something special. Obviously, I was dead wrong.
It had been one thing to plan to hurt a Seaver - one of the rich, entitled assholes Cort hated. But it had somehow become a different thing entirely to hurt Cam.
Cam had agreed to get them to St. Brigitte, and Cort knew he should be satisfied with that, but it wasn’t enough. He’d seen something in Cam’s face on Monday that made him realize once again precisely what he’d be giving up if he let Cam walk away. The guy had been scared and hopeful, and he’d wanted to trust Cort.
And just like Friday night, Cort found himself wanting to deserve that trust.
He wanted Cam to smile at him again, joke with him again, confide in him again, see the sparkle warm his light eyes again.
Sex was firmly off the table, fine. He honestly wasn’t thinking about sex right now… Or, okay, not much. He only wanted to regain what he’d thrown away. For himself, yeah, so he didn’t feel like the world’s biggest asshole, but also for Cam, because somehow, he’d come to realize Cam deserved at least that much. If he had to text or call Cam more than twenty times a day and show his ridiculously geeky, awkward side to achieve that, then so be it.
It was way outside Cort’s usual playbook, but suddenly he felt as if he needed to change up his plays.
“I keep dying embarrassingly fast, though.” Cort was kind of surprised by how much fun he’d found the game, his multiple deaths notwithstanding.
Cam cleared his throat. “Well, keep leveling up and we can play together sometime. I’ll, ah, invite you on my team.”
“Yeah?” Cort was absurdly pleased by this offer, a promise of time together even after the party this weekend. “We can do that. My Yoda you can be.”
“Well, first rule you need to remember, young Padawan, is don’t go after the big guys without your team.”
Cort snickered. “You’d be surprised at how often I get told that, badass.” Sean’s words right before Cort had been escorted out of the FBI office came to mind. “Hard to find good teammates sometimes,” he added quietly.
“Gotta give loyalty to get loyalty.”
Ouch. “What happens when on
e of your teammates fucks up, though? What happens when they go off and do something stupid so the other team kills you?”
“Get better teammates,” Cam said, so dryly Cort nearly laughed.
“Well, you could, but maybe it’d be better to keep the teammate you have and just, you know, trust they’ll learn their lesson and not fuck shit up again.”
Cam sighed, and Cort could hear the creak of a chair, as though maybe Cam was leaning back.
“Yeah, well. Problem is, they’d have to understand what they did wrong, Cort, and you’d have to believe they gave a shit about not doing it again. I don’t know if that’s possible.”
Ouch, again. Cam’s words cut like a razor and Cort sucked in a breath, twisting his beer bottle around on his desk.
“I don’t do apologies, usually. I do whatever I have to do to get stuff done. But, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I was on Friday night. At first it was only because I wanted to get to know you, so I could handle you more effectively, but then I started to like you.” Dear God, he sounded like a high schooler, didn’t he? He huffed. He’d rather walk on hot coals than spew this mortifying emotional garbage, but if this was what Cam needed from him, if this was what would put the spark back in Cam’s eyes then whatever. “I wasn’t thinking of you as an asset after that, I was thinking of you as an incredibly hot guy I really wanted to spend the night with.”
Cam was silent for so long after Cort spoke, Cort had to check whether the call had been disconnected. But finally, Cam sighed.
“You don’t usually do apologies and I don’t usually do second chances,” he said. “So, fine. I guess we’ll both make an exception in this case. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Cort clutched his phone for a long while after Cam disconnected, feeling as though he’d won something really important for the very first time.
Chapter Twelve
Cam sat on his bed, staring at his phone. Nothing from Cort all day, which shouldn’t have been unexpected. They would see each other at the airport in a little while anyway. Still, he debated messaging. Cort could reassure him like no one else.
How one man could fuck up his mind and calm it down at the same time was a mystery Cam couldn’t solve.