Campy (Ballsy Boys Book 4)

Home > Other > Campy (Ballsy Boys Book 4) > Page 5
Campy (Ballsy Boys Book 4) Page 5

by K. M. Neuhold


  “It’s my mom,” I explain, to my own surprise. “She has an illness and needs some extra help for a couple of days.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Cam. Is there anything I can do to help? I can make a mean casserole,” he offers, and I find myself smiling. “Or I can bring some clothes by for you if you need?”

  “Actually, clothes would be extremely helpful. Maybe my toothbrush too?”

  “No problem. Text me a list of what you want and the address and I’ll get it to you.”

  “Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.”

  “Happy to help,” he assures me before we hang up.

  I shoot him a quick text with the info he needs and then join my mom at the table.

  “Who was that?” she asks.

  “My new roommate. I didn’t want him to worry about me disappearing for a few days.”

  “Oh, I thought it might’ve been a lady friend. You had a smile I haven’t seen before.”

  “No lady friends at the moment,” I tell her with a laugh. I don’t have time to date, and I can only imagine how a conversation about my career would go with prospective dates. I have a feeling most women wouldn’t be thrilled to date a man in gay porn, or porn in general.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t have time to date.”

  She frowns. “You don’t need to stay here and worry about me so much.”

  “You’re my mother, of course I do. And I want to, so save yourself the guilt.”

  She stops arguing and finishes eating, then I help her to the living room so we can watch some TV together and relax.

  A while later, there’s a knock at the door signaling Jackson’s arrival.

  My stomach twists with nerves as I go to the door to let him in. I’ve never told anyone about my mom before, let alone introduced anyone to her. But he took an Uber all the way out here, so I have to introduce them, right?

  I pull open the door and find Jackson standing there with a friendly smile holding a couple of grocery bags along with my duffel bag.

  “You didn’t need to bring groceries,” I tell him as I step aside to let him in.

  He shrugs. “I figured it couldn’t hurt.”

  “Well, thank you.” I take all the bags from him and lead him into the house.

  “Mom, this is my new roommate, Jackson.” I introduce them. “Jackson, my mom.”

  He crosses the room to shake her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

  She swoons a little at his Southern charm, and I fight not to roll my eyes.

  “Sorry I’m such a mess,” she says, waving at her sweatpants and loose T-shirt.

  “You look beautiful, ma’am. Cameron told me you weren’t feeling well, and I assure you I look a lot more of a mess when I’m under the weather.”

  While they chat, I take my duffel bag to my old bedroom and the groceries to the kitchen. With the ingredients he brought, I can make a couple of meals to stick in the freezer that will be easy for her to reheat another day when she’s not up to cooking. Jackson appears in the kitchen doorway while I’m putting things away.

  “Your mom is a hoot.”

  “Yeah, she’s funny,” I agree. “She has MS, so it’s not a contagious illness or anything,” I add, rushing to assure him.

  “I can’t say I know much about MS, but I hear it’s no picnic.”

  “No, it’s not. I’m going to have to hire someone to come by daily and help take care of her. And if I can swing it, there’s a new medication the doctor wants her to try. It’s…a lot to deal with,” I confide and some sort of understanding dawns in Jackson’s eyes.

  “I’m sure she appreciates everything you’re doing to take care of her.” He reaches out and puts his hand on mine. The warm contact is comforting and I can’t help but crave more, which is…confusing.

  “I’m just doing what I have to.” I shrug, not wanting to take more credit than I deserve. Anyone would do the same for their mother. And it’s not like Jackson knows the extent I’ve gone to to make sure her medical expenses are covered, so why is he looking at me with so much awe?

  “Is there anything else I can do to help? Maybe cook a couple of meals to put in the freezer for her?” he offers, pulling his hand away, leaving me missing the feeling instantly.

  “I was just thinking about doing that, actually,” I tell him, giving him a smile.

  “You go spend time with your mama, I’ll cook,” he insists.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I know I don’t. Now, go.” He makes a shooing motion to chase me from the kitchen and I relent, heading back to the living room to spend more time with my mom.

  Jackson

  Things are starting to make a heck of a lot more sense now. I’m just doing what I have to, Cameron told me, and after what I’ve discovered about him, that statement is loaded. He’s doing porn to pay for his mother’s medical expenses. That has to be the reason why.

  It explains why he’s not happy doing it, which I can only surmise from how he looks when he gets home after a shoot. And whatever else he’s doing on the other days, that’s what makes him happy. That’s what he wants to do, if he could. Man, my respect for him just grew exponentially. He’s one of the good ones, that one.

  Seeing Cameron with his mom showed me a whole different side of him. Then again, I don't think I've even begun to scratch the surface when it comes to him. There's Cameron the porn star, aka Campy. I’ll admit I never saw that one coming, but as I said, it makes a lot more sense now that I know about his mom. There's Cameron from the other job, the one I haven't quite figured out, though I do know it’s something with animals. I'm sure that when I discover what he's doing on those days, it will reveal more about him.

  I’ve seen Cameron the roommate—the busy yet attentive guy who so often forgets to put on some clothes before walking into the kitchen. And now I've met Cameron the son, and my heart mellows as I watch the tender care he has for his mama. He’s reading to her now, snippets from a magazine she apparently loves but has trouble holding and reading. He patiently shows her the pictures, then reads the accompanying text.

  She's so sweet and sassy at the same time, but it's easy to see how frail she is. I don't know much about MS, other than it stands for multiple sclerosis, but she looks mighty weak and fragile for a woman her age. She can’t be much older than my mama, which makes sense ‘cause Cameron is only a few years older than me, and yet she looks ten, fifteen years older.

  As I chop vegetables and sauté some onions, garlic, and ground beef for a casserole, I wonder what I would do if my mama fell ill. Would I move back home? Even as I consider it, I know it would never happen. I couldn’t. It would be like going back to prison, harsh as that may sound.

  My parents love me, I have no doubt. But I also know they will never fully understand me, and they will never completely accept the fact I'm gay. That's something I've come to realize over the last few years, and as much as it hurts, I've decided holding on to false hope that they will change hurts even more. It's better to accept reality and adjust my expectations.

  I do miss them, though, my folks and my siblings. I’ve been texting them, pretending to still be in college, and every time I lied about that, my heart hurt. It’s not how I was raised, but what choice do I have? No, I made the right call. They’ll find out, but when they do, it’ll be a done deal and nothing they can do about it. It’s my life, and my choices are my own. This was a dream I couldn’t allow to escape.

  Then again, I've always been a practical guy. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m a dreamer all right. I’ve never backed down from something I really wanted, but I do know the difference between what’s attainable and tilting at windmills. Says the man who moved to LA to try and see if he could make it as an actor, and I grin at myself.

  "That smells good," Cameron says.

  He's leaning against the door to the kitchen, his arms crossed. His face shows weariness, deep lines that shouldn't be there. He must be so worried abou
t his mama.

  "How is she?" I ask.

  I mix in the red sauce with the meat and vegetables, then add a dollop of cream and some dried herbs.

  He shrugs, not quite pulling off the gesture. "She's resting a bit now.” He hesitates, then adds, “She’s not well, but then again, she hasn't been for a long time. I need to get her more help, but it's not going to be easy."

  I transfer the meat and the vegetables to the oven dish, then generously sprinkle grated cheese on top. "Because it's going to be hard to find good, qualified help or because she's gonna resist it?"

  He lets out a deep sigh. "Both, but especially the latter. It's hard on her, losing her independence more and more. She's only been ill for a few years, but this disease is progressing fast with her."

  I close the oven and set the timer, then turn toward him. He looks lost, forlorn, and my heart aches for him. "I'm so sorry. And there’s nothing doctors can do for her?"

  "They've tried a bunch of different meds, but she is not reacting well to any of them. Some make the pain less but seem to make her mobility worse. Others make her nauseous or have no effect at all on her symptoms."

  I hesitate, but I have to ask. "What's her prognosis? Is there any chance of her getting better?"

  The look on Cameron's face breaks my heart. "No. Her disease is too progressive for that. All we can hope for is to find a treatment that stops it from progressing further, but she'll never be healthy again. I just want her to be pain free as much as possible, you know? I don't care if I need to have someone take care of her full time. I just want her to be comfortable, to live as much as possible."

  I don't know what to say. It must be so heartbreaking for him to watch his mom deteriorate like this. "I wish I coulda met her when she was still healthy. I bet she was an amazing mom."

  For the first time, Cameron's eyes light up. "She was wonderful. She still is. We've always been close, and she's worked her ass off her whole life to make sure I was taken care of. With my dad out of the picture, it was just her and me, and she did such a great job. I've always felt loved and safe, and I never even missed having a dad. She was… She is everything to me."

  I don't know why I do it, but on impulse, I step in and hug him. It only takes a few seconds for him to hug me back, and when he puts his head against my shoulder, it almost feels like a triumph. He's not a man who easily leans on others, that much I do know about him. He's proud, but in that moment, as he leans on me just a little bit, I'm grateful that I can be there for him, and even more determined to ask him out. I just need to figure out how and when.

  When I let go, he sends me a grateful smile. "Thank you so much for being here, for helping me. Us. I really appreciate it."

  I smile right back, even as I turn toward the counter again to start preparing another meal his mom can heat up in a few days. "You're welcome. Now, I was thinking of making a nice pasta Alfredo as well, since it freezes well. Do you think that’s something your mama would like?"

  7

  Jackson

  It’s two weeks after my big discovery about Campy—and coincidentally, also two weeks after I started my subscription to the Ballsy Boys—and Cameron and I have been spending quite some time together since he got back from his mom’s.

  I cooked two more meals for his mom and after that, I left. Cameron wanted to stay with her a day or two, just to make sure she was okay. He’s been home since, and we’ve hung out.

  It’s only reinforced my decision to ask him out, but I need a little time to prepare myself. Not to mention I need to figure out how to ask someone out in the first place, because I have no experience yet. Both my relationships—if you can even call them that when they’re all hush-hush—kinda developed organically, so there was no asking out involved. It’s a whole new territory, but I’m determined not to mess it up. Cameron undoubtedly does have a lot of experience with dating and stuff, so I need my A-game here.

  Again, I wish I could text Brax. He’s got more dating experience than me by a long shot, though with women. Can it be that different, though, asking girls or guys out? But I’m afraid if I text him, it’ll lead to questions I don’t want to answer. How am I gonna explain finding a gay guy at a conservative Christian college, for example? No, I can’t. I do text him a meme of Bert and Ernie he’ll love, just to make him laugh.

  Luckily, I know just who I can ask for advice. During lunch break, I seek Ethan out. “Hey Ethan, can I sit with you?”

  He shoots me a friendly smile and pulls a chair back. “Anytime, kid. Seems like you’re getting the hang of it, eh?”

  I smile at his Canadian accent slipping back in, though on set he has a mean Texan drawl. He’s one of the few non-native Texan speakers on set, but his husband is from Texas, so that explains a lot. “I sure hope so. It’s been a steep learning curve.”

  He nods as he chews on his tuna sandwich. “It takes a while to find your footing, but you’re doing a great job.”

  “Can I ask you something personal?” I ask, not sure how to make a natural segue.

  “Sure.”

  I swallow. Now that the moment is here, I’m wondering if this was such a good idea after all. We don’t know each other that well, so maybe it’s inappropriate for me to bring up such a personal subject? Ethan patiently waits, something telling me he has an inkling of where this is leading. That gives me the courage to speak up.

  “As I told you, I’m gay,” I start, and then the words come by themselves. “I only recently came out, and I don’t have much experience dating yet. There’s this guy that I wanna ask out, and I was wondering if you could give me any pointers on how to do that?”

  Ethan smiles. “That’s good. Is he out? I mean, do you know for a fact he’s into men? ‘Cause that makes a big difference.”

  That’s one question I can answer with certainty. I’m not gonna divulge how I know this for sure, because it’s clear Cameron doesn’t want others to know about what he does, which I can understand. “He is.”

  “Well, that makes it a whole lot easier. And he doesn’t have a boyfriend as far as you know?”

  I chuckle. “He’s my roommate, so I’m pretty darn sure he doesn’t.”

  Ethan laughs. “Your roommate, eh? Going for the roommate-with-benefits thing?”

  I hadn’t even thought of all the possibilities that dating Cameron would bring, considering we live together, but now that Ethan mentions it… My head fills with visions of me and Cameron showering together, of lazy nights on the couch watching TV, of me cooking for him.

  “That’d be great,” I say with enthusiasm, and Ethan’s smile broadens.

  “There’s no hard rule here, but a good approach is always to come up with something you know he would appreciate. Like, is he into movies? Does he like clubbing or dancing? Is he more an active date type of guy, like going for a hike? If you can figure that out, it helps to ask him for a specific date, not just a generic invite.”

  Hmm, he’s got a good point. Cameron is so busy, though with what I’m not exactly sure, so I think a relaxing date would work well. But what does he like? Then I think of the documentaries I’ve seen him watch on efforts to save white rhinos from extinction and on an all-female wildlife protection unit somewhere in Namibia, I think, who are trying to save elephants from being killed for their ivory. That, combined with the way he smells certain days, gives me an idea.

  “I think I wanna ask him to the zoo,” I say. “He loves animals.”

  Ethan chuckles as he gently shakes his head. “You, my dear Jackson, are the cutest thing ever. You look like a badass cowboy, but you’ve got a big ole’ soft heart. You’ll do just fine, my boy. Just be yourself. I can’t see how anyone could resist you.”

  I feel my cheeks heat up at that unexpected praise. “Thank you.”

  Ethan sends me a blinding smile, the one that made him famous, but then he sobers. “I’m excited for you to discover more of yourself as you venture out into the gay community, but promise me you’ll be careful, Jackson.
No offense, but you grew up sheltered, and not everyone is as nice and decent as you. As within any community, there are bad apples, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  I nod solemnly. “I promise. Any advice on how to pick out those bad apples?”

  Not that I have any doubt that Cameron is the real thing, of course. He would never intentionally hurt me, of that I’m sure.

  “Trust your instincts, that’s the best I got. If your gut tells you someone or something’s fake, listen to it. You’ll save yourself a heap of trouble if you do.”

  That seems like good advice, and I promise myself to take it to heart.

  “Thanks, Ethan. I appreciate it.”

  “You know what? Once you’ve asked him out, we’ll have you and him over for dinner at our place. My husband, Rick, does a mean Texas barbecue, which you should appreciate, and between you, me, and Rick, we’ll charm the socks right off your guy.”

  Now that sounds like a perfect plan, and I shoot a big smile at Ethan. “Awesome. I’ve been dying for a good barbecue anyway, and I’d love to meet Rick.”

  “That’s settled then,” Ethan says as he wraps up his trash and gets up from the table. “Let’s get back to work so you can ask your man out afterward.”

  Campy

  Heart shoves his tongue into my mouth with aggressive sloppiness that looks way better on camera than it actually feels. I give an over-the-top moan, hoping it sounds muffled in a sexy way by his tongue rather than giving the impression of being gagged by it. I hope for his sake he’s a better kisser in real life than he is when filming.

  “Cut,” Rebel calls and I cease thrusting, both of us ending the kiss abruptly to look over at Rebel, standing off set just behind the cameras. “Campy, you’re looking a bit stiff.”

  I cock an eyebrow at him and Heart snorts, his hole clenching around my dick as he laughs.

 

‹ Prev