The Real

by Kate Stewart

  And I was right. He had a large, open floor plan condo with a distant view of the park, which meant he only lived blocks away. I’d never asked him specifically where he lived. But seeing was believing, and, somehow, it made him seem more real to me. To my surprise, his place was scarcely furnished, but what I did see was a mix of dark wood and leather. There were a few boxes scattered around.

  “When did you move in?” I asked.

  “Too long ago to still have packed boxes. I just wasn’t sure if I was staying here.”

  “Really? Why?”

  He shrugged. “I just wasn’t sure where I wanted to call home.”

  “And now?”

  One side of his mouth lifted. “Now, I’ve got an incentive to stick around.”

  “You flatter me.”

  “You fucking floor me.”

  I sighed happily, no longer afraid to stretch in my bed as I snuggled deeper into the comfort of it and his words. He’d managed to touch me from the other side of the screen.

  He nudged his chin toward me. “Show me your place. I want to see what you did to it.”

  “I’m not decent. I feel gross, I need a shower, and I’m too lazy at the moment.”

  He perked up. “You know we can continue Facetime while you’re in the shower. It wouldn’t bother me.”

  I laughed and then winced.

  He stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. “Maybe when you’re feeling better.”

  “You make me feel better.”

  His smile lit up my closed curtain bedroom.

  “Thanks for yesterday. I haven’t had anyone but Bree and my mother look out for me in a while.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” he dismissed.

  I wanted to reach through the screen. I was itching to run my fingers through his mussed up, dark locks. He was wearing a hoodie, and I hated I couldn’t see more.

  “You were there for me, and you gave a damn. That’s more than enough. I’ll return the favor sometime.”

  Something dark crossed his features as he spoke. “It’s such a basic thing, isn’t it? Just wanting someone to be there through the growing pains. So many people have it and take it for granted.”

  I wanted to ask how long he’d been single, to ask what he’d been through that put that hint of sadness in his eyes. But asking meant telling.

  “We won’t take it for granted,” I assured.

  “No, we won’t,” he agreed.

  It was surreal talking to him, seeing him in his element. I was sure he was thinking the same thing.

  “I’ll let you get to the court.”

  “I’d much rather be hanging out with you,” he assured. “I’ll call you tonight?”

  I nodded. “Please.”

  Snow crested on the wind like clumps of airy cotton as I made my way toward the café. My smile widened as the ground crunched beneath me. Chicago weather could be brutal. Case and point, it wasn’t even a month into fall and Old Man Winter had already shown up to the party. But on rare days when the cold didn’t have too harsh of a bite and the snow came down on the city like a soft blanket . . . well, I loved those days.

  Excitement thrummed through my every limb at the thought of what was to come. Warmth spread as I got closer to the café, to Cameron. I hadn’t seen him in over a week due to our conflicting schedules.

  Over the weekend, I’d traveled for an interview for a job based in Milwaukee that would start after my contract at Preston Corp ended. The commission was the only reason I hadn’t passed on the job, but I’d made it a point to find something with limited travel. Because, for the first time in what felt like forever, I had someone else to share my time with, and I didn’t want to miss a minute.

  It was the strangest feeling to become reliant on him as a part of my life. My thoughts of the future were swinging a little in his direction, but it was healthy in the way that made my new relationship a priority. Intimacy was our last real hurdle. We’d laid the foundation, and it was a beautiful thing to be a part of as it unfolded. It was scary and freeing at the same time. I trusted him to a point. I just had to give him the rest. And I’d decided before I walked out the door and left my Mac at home I would take a step forward with him. He’d been patient for just a date, a kiss.

  And if I was lucky and he was receptive, he was about to reap the reward for it.

  When I saw Cameron was waiting outside the café for me, I couldn’t stop my smile. Dressed in dark blue jeans and a wool blend, collared trench, he looked GQ and irresistible as he stood with an air of confidence, blowing in his hands to warm them up. I paused my steps to watch him.

  “All right, Abigail,” I scorned myself in a whisper just as Cameron caught sight of me crossing the street. “Just because he looks like a sidewalk prince standing in the snowdrift staring at you with honest eyes and a beautiful smile doesn’t mean he’s the one.” He rubbed his hands together and gave me his signature wink. “Okay, so he idolizes his mother, respects your opinion, and has a little bit of a dirty mouth. All good things, but that doesn’t mean you have to walk over and hand him your heart.”

  His smile deepened as I sped up.

  I’m so fucked.

  I beamed at him as I closed the space between us, my eyes searching his. It was only when he whisked me away from the door, placed his hands on the side of my face, and leaned in that I realized he’d left his computer at home too.

  And then his lips were on mine; his breath-stealing groan danced on my tongue as I gasped into his mouth. In order to reach him, I had to stand on the tips of my toes to compensate and wrap my arms around his neck. He accommodated by gripping my hips and lifting me easily so we connected.

  And then he kissed me.

  His kiss gave both life and death. The end of everything as I knew it and the beginning of a need, a craving for only him.

  He opened my mouth with the swipe of his tongue, and I moaned in invitation as he dove deep, tasting me. Toes curling, our tongues dueled and slid against each other’s, spurring us into a frenzy. He refused to let up as he gave and took, clutching me to him, feeding until we were both gasping for breath.

  “Cameron,” I sputtered as he broke away briefly and then went straight back for more. In the middle of Wicker Park, in front of my favorite café, I got the best kiss of my life. His tongue moved so languidly with mine that I was ravenous by the time he pulled away.

  “I’m so strung out on you right now, woman,” he groaned as he traced my lips with his finger. “You are so goddamn beautiful. It hurts to look at you.” He bit his lip. “Did you dress up for me?”

  “Of course.”

  He kept us nose to nose as he spoke low, our energy electric, and I was wired. I could feel the minute the decision was made. I was going to give Cameron my heart. I just hoped he’d ask for it.

  “That makes me feel so good. It’s been a long time since I’ve had that, Abbie. Had this. It’s been . . . a long time.”

  “Preach it, brother, hallelujah,” I said, and we both laughed.

  “Cameron, I think about you all the time.”

  “Day and night,” he rasped out in between kisses across my jaw. “I was going blind with the need to touch you. I want this more than anything.” He pulled away and peered down at me. “What do you want?”

  “You have to kiss me again to find out.”

  And he did. Again, and again, and again. I wanted to regret the wait. I wanted so much to hate myself for depriving us of what we both so clearly wanted, but I knew it was the right call. Because it was all there. All of it. There was nothing awkward about it, no second-guessing, and no hesitation. It was simply us, and most definitely an introduction, a declaration, and a promise.

  When he pulled away, he trailed hot kisses to my ear. “Jesus, I never want to stop kissing you.”

  “I need you to kiss me exactly like you just did, every time you kiss me.”

  He grinned down at me, but I wasn’t smiling.

  “I’m dead serious.”

  �
��I know you are,” he said with a smirk. “And now I’ve got leverage. You love my tongue.”

  “I do,” I admitted, leaning in to suck on the bottom lip I’d been dreaming about for what seemed like forever. Now that I had his touch, I never wanted to be without it.

  “Filthy girl,” he said with a lift of his husky voice before our tongues dueled again.

  When we reluctantly pulled away, I whispered to him as he rubbed his knuckles seductively down my sides. “Where in the hell have you been, Cameron?”

  “Hard up in the desert of no man’s land on the other side of a macaroni table.”

  He was exasperated because of our distance, and I was just as ready for the space to disappear. And in a matter of minutes, with his lips on mine, that space had disintegrated. Our reward was the other. Enamored, I stood beneath his watchful eyes as we feasted.

  “But, Abbie, it was worth it,” he whispered. “I would do it again. I would do it all over again.”

  “Me too.”

  We shared a smile as he jutted his chin toward the coffee shop. “You want to go in?”

  “No way.” I shook my head. “Take me anywhere.”

  He lifted a brow. “You sure about that?”

  “Positive.”

  He took my hand and led us toward the unknown.

  Cameron slid his thumb over the top of my hand before he squeezed it.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Hell no. No.” I shook my head adamantly. “I’ll just wait back here for you.”

  “Nope, we’re doing it,” he said. My whole body trembling with fear, he took the first step onto the glass.

  “Oh, shit,” I squeaked out as the line behind us laughed at my outburst. We stepped out onto the glass deck, 1,353 feet in the air, while I kept my eyes tightly shut.

  “We’re out,” he said. “Open your eyes, Abbie.”

  I cracked one open and took a hesitant peek.

  “Okay, that’s good enough, right?” I said, anxious to retreat into the building.

  “Nope,” he said as he moved us further out onto the Skydeck, and I reluctantly followed.

  We were at the top of the Willis Tower, which everyone still referred to as the Sears Tower. My erratic pulse only intensified as Cameron leaned forward, placing his forehead on the glass to hold all his weight.

  “Oh, you’re crazy,” I said as I took a step back. He tugged me forward by our clasped hands.

  “If you’re going to do it, might as well do it all the way.”

  “I feel sick,” I said, swallowing.

  “Come on, witchy woman,” he retorted, cruelly amused.

  I braved another glance at the glass between my feet and saw the moving cars beneath us had been reduced to the size of ants from our bird’s eye view.

  Snickering ensued from behind us, and I glanced over at the two women who were practically swooning over Cameron and had been the whole time we waited for the elevator to bring us up. I couldn’t blame them. He was beautiful. But at that moment, all I felt was the adrenaline rush of being encased in the glass that sat on the side of the famous skyscraper.

  “You’re really going to make me do this?”

  “Yep,” he said mercilessly.

  I let out a little shriek as I placed my forehead against the glass and let my weight sink behind it. “If I faint,” I said in warning, “it’s on you. This building is moving, I swear it is.”

  “It is,” he said without a trace of fear in his voice.

  “Jesus.”

  “I can’t believe you’ve lived in Chicago this long and never did this,” he said as he smirked at the ground far, far beneath us.

  “I avoided it, and for good reason,” I bit out through chattering teeth.

  “To be honest, I hadn’t done it, either. My mother brought me up here the first time I came.”

  “Brave woman. Did she make you stand like this?”

  “No,” he said with a chuckle. “She did a handstand.”

  “She what?!” I said with wide eyes as I shook, scared shitless as I observed the sea of skyscrapers dwarfed below us.

  “Yeah, I have a picture of it,” he said, glancing over at me. “I was pretty freaked out my first time up here too.” He looked down and let out a breath. “She brought me up here to tell me she was dying.”

  Heart sinking, I looked over at him. That time, I squeezed his hand.

  “I thought it cruel at the time, but if you think about it, it’s a pretty cool way to tell your kid you’re dying, right? Suspended in a place where you are terrified so the gravity of it doesn’t hit you as hard.” He paused, swallowing evident pain, and I waited. “She said she wanted me to know what it was like.”

  “What being sick was like?” I asked softly, my heart breaking for him.

  “No, what it was like to leave her son in a world she wasn’t sure was safe. She said she wasn’t afraid of dying. She was just afraid for me, to leave me. And this is what it felt like.”

  “Cameron, I’m so sorry.”

  He nodded, his beautiful eyes cast down, a shadow covering his features. “She taught yoga six days a week well into her sixties. She treated her body like a temple and it turned on her. I live with it every day, Abbie. Wondering if I could have done more for her. Different doctors or treatments. I didn’t get involved because I was sure she and my dad had it covered. I was selfish with my pain. I was only thinking of me, of how much I needed her, that I couldn’t see past my own fear to make sure we did everything.” He swallowed again, then stopped talking.

  “I’m sure they did everything they could.”

  We stayed silent for a moment, holding hands and looking at the world beneath us. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up. I’ve been missing her a lot lately.”

  “Hey,” I said as he glanced over at me. “I’m glad you told me.”

  He gave me a wink. “I’m glad I came back up here with you.”

  “Me too.”

  Cameron pulled out his cell phone and aimed it at the two of us from underneath. It was the worst angle imaginable.

  “Don’t you dare take that picture,” I warned, forcing a smile anyway.

  “Look down,” he said as he aimed it at us. “Done.”

  He pushed away from the glass, and I followed suit, mildly distracted by his story but brought into the present as I took in the view of the city and the expanse of Lake Michigan.

  He studied the picture as we walked off the deck. “It’s a good one,” he said, holding it out for me to look. I waved it away.

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  He grinned. “Not a fan of having your picture taken?”

  “Nope. I’m not photogenic, like at all. It’s a curse. Every time I take one, my eyes are closed or close to it because my smile is so wide.”

  He inspected the picture, and I could tell that was the case when he chuckled.

  “Yep, but it’s still a good one.”

  We ended up walking the streets of downtown, getting lost in conversation among the high-rises, talking about everything and nothing. When we sought brief refuge from the brutal wind between buildings, Cameron used the opportunity to warm us up. He kissed me every chance he got, without shame, and I loved every second of it.

  I basked in the feel of him, in his tall frame as he surrounded me, the way his hands always seemed to be warm, and his smooth as silk voice—a voice I’d deprived myself of. Though we’d been dating for over a month, all of it was new.

  Hovering on a bridge at the Riverwalk, he took another selfie of us, which I reluctantly smiled for. He pressed his lips together when he studied it, and I knew it was another disaster.

  Due to the unrelenting wind cresting off the water, my eyes were streaming mascara. Cameron leaned in and cupped my face, wiping away the smudges with his thumbs.

  “Come on, let’s get you somewhere warm,” he said after another stolen kiss.

  Glued to his side, he shielded me from the cold. After a few minutes o
f walking in silence—that was anything but empty—we ended up nestled at a cocktail table at Howl at the Moon, a dueling piano bar on West Hubbard.

  “Ever been here?” he asked as I shed my coat.

  “Nope, another first,” I replied with a smile.

  When the waiter came by, Cameron ordered us a bucket of Moscow Mule to share as I perused the bar. Other than the pianos that sat on a spotlit stage, the neon-lit room was dark and intimate. “This is what I love about Chicago. You never know what’s around the corner.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “Most days I’m happy I got my first job coaching here after I graduated.”

  “And the other days?”

  “The other days aren’t summer, and I’m freezing my ass off,” he said with a wink. “I’ve endured enough winters, so I’m used to it. I don’t see myself living anywhere else.”

  “Me either,” I agreed.

  “You know, Max goes to Bears games in shorts. In fact, you can’t get him to wear a pair of pants in subzero temperatures.”

  “That’s just plain stupid,” I said with an eye roll.

  Cameron shrugged. “I used to think he was crazy and did it to show off, but it turns out he’s comfortable that way. He’s from Wisconsin, so . . .”

  “That explains everything,” I said as I gave him my own wink.

  “Something in your eye, Abbie?”

  I deadpanned, “That’s the last time I throw flirt your way tonight, Coach.”

  “That was flirting?” he asked with a smirk.

  I narrowed my eyes. “I’m going to the bathroom.” I stood and was swept off my feet and into his lap. I had to keep my moan internal when he leaned in and brushed his lips against my neck.

  “What was that for?” I asked, my voice raspy.

  “An apology kiss is a perfect excuse to cop a feel,” he whispered, reminding me of our earlier conversations at the café.

  We were finally hurdling the physical and it felt so good, so natural. I couldn’t believe what a difference a day could make. “What song do you want to hear?” His voice was damned near a groan.