by Abigail Roux
“It was just a feeling he gave off,” Miri murmured after a moment of thought. “Like he was… capable.”
Cameron glanced over his shoulder at her. “I can’t think of him that way,” he answered.
Miri sighed. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
Tilting his head, he turned and stepped to give her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I will,” he assured her with a small smile, while inwardly all the lingering worry and sudden upset mixed with the little bit of blossoming anger threatened to make him ill.
It was after two in the morning before Cameron finally left the restaurant, having overseen the entire clean-up and prep for the next day. All who worked the party had Saturday off with pay as a thank-you for a job well done. Cameron had an extra day, just because. Despite his argument, Blake had insisted.
And for the first time, he found himself relieved that Julian wouldn’t be with him.
It was Saturday morning now, past Julian’s scheduled Friday visit, and Cameron would have the whole day as well as Sunday and Monday to himself to rest and think before going back to work on Tuesday, although he really didn’t want to think at all. He knew he’d been lying to himself all this time, but he’d ignored it, hoping he’d give Julian no reason to change his mind about loving him. He would tell Cameron what he needed to know, wouldn’t he? What bothered Cameron most was that he still knew next to nothing about Julian, even after four months of being lovers.
It all ate at him, making him tired and depressed. And right now, Cameron was forcing himself to ignore the fact that he wanted nothing more than to be in Julian’s arms.
Cameron walked distractedly down the deserted sidewalk. He stopped briefly at the street corner, glancing each way before hurrying across the road and heading down the sidewalk toward his building, still stuck in confused, swirling thoughts, pretty much oblivious to everything around him. A couple blocks later, keycard in hand, Cameron stopped to open the door.
A hulking shadow stepped away from the building on the other side of the street and cleared his throat. Cameron’s chin snapped around to look in the direction of the noise as he jumped in alarm. He didn’t relax when he saw it was Julian.
“Are you okay?” Julian asked him without crossing the street. His voice carried in the cold night.
Cameron nodded slowly as he watched Julian, all of his worries echoing in his head as he found himself unable to relax. In the dark, lit only by a few harsh streetlights, Julian did look dangerous. Cameron realized now that he just hadn’t let himself see it. “Tired,” he finally answered hoarsely.
“I’m sorry I didn’t give you warning,” Julian told him as he stepped into the street. “I didn’t know I was needed at the party until tonight.”
Cameron nodded again, at war with himself. He believed in Julian, but his own insecurities ate at him. It made him mad that he wasn’t brave enough to ask the questions he wanted answered so he could feel better about their relationship. And Miri’s questions invested him with enough tension that he hesitated, unable to think of anything to say in response to Julian’s apology.
Julian must have been able to see the tension in him, because he stopped in the middle of the street, looking at Cameron with a blank expression. “May I come by tomorrow?” he asked, oddly polite. The air in front of him frosted over as he spoke.
Unable to read Julian’s face or his tone, Cameron hesitated. He’d hoped to have more time to think things over and come to terms with what bothered him. “Tomorrow meaning later today or actually tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” Julian answered as a siren began to blare in the distance.
The sound startled Cameron, and he glanced toward where it was coming from. Julian didn’t bother to turn his head, now standing in the middle of the street and waiting for his answer.
Cameron looked back at him. “I thought Sundays weren’t available?” he asked uncertainly.
“I’m off this weekend,” Julian told him flatly.
Cameron stared at him and nodded, the yearning to be with him almost outweighing what he hoped was merely irrational fear. “Okay,” he agreed softly, knowing that if Julian had requested to come upstairs now, he would have agreed.
Julian nodded and smiled slightly. “Sleep well, Cameron,” he said in a louder voice as the siren got closer. The fire truck appeared around the corner several blocks away and blared its horn. Julian glanced at it and began slowly backing out of the road. The fire engine roared down the street and by them, its sirens deafening as the lights spun.
Cameron watched it as it sped past. When it turned the next corner and disappeared from view, the street in front of him was empty.
Left standing alone, Cameron looked up and down the street for Julian, not seeing anything moving or any sign of the man at all. It spooked him, and he turned and quickly entered the building. He didn’t breathe easily again until he was up in his apartment with the door shut and locked behind him.
Blake grumbled as he clomped down the stairs from his bedroom in his robe. It was well past midnight, and there was only one person who would be banging on the knocker at this time of night.
“What have you done now? You’re not even working a job tonight!” he asked tiredly as he swung the door open, expecting to see Julian hanging onto Preston as he bled on the doorstep like usual.
But Julian was alone, standing up on his own, dressed casually in a pair of faded jeans and a fleece pullover. He’d shaved off his beard sometime recently, but tonight he was scruffy. Somehow, the bastard still managed to look high-class.
The look in his eyes, however, spoke of utter defeat.
“You look like hell,” Blake blurted without thinking. “What happened?” he demanded.
Julian returned his frank appraisal with a wry nod of his head, and then he lifted a bottle of single malt Irish whiskey and shook it enticingly.
“A Bushmills night,” Blake observed with a slight frown. “Come in, then,” he added with a sigh as he turned slightly and waved Julian into the house. “Let me go put my pants on,” he muttered as Julian stepped past him unsteadily. “How’d you get here?” he asked suspiciously as he realized Julian wasn’t exactly sober.
“Preston dropped me off,” Julian answered as he looked around the large entry foyer. “Said he’d pick me up in the morning.”
Blake barked a laugh and shook his head. “He’s just pawning you off on me,” he said accusingly as he relaxed a little. “What’s the problem then? It’s not tactical or he’d be all over it.”
“I think I’m losing him,” Julian answered softly as he turned and met Blake’s eyes.
“Preston?” Blake asked in shock. Julian and Preston had worked together for longer than Blake had known either of them—and that was no short time itself.
Julian shook his head and looked away. “Cameron,” he answered in a voice that was barely a whisper. “He’s starting to get scared. I can feel it in the way he looks at me.”
Blake stared at Julian, worried and dumbstruck. He licked his lips and moved closer to his friend, taking his elbow gently and guiding him toward the study. “I’ll put pants on later,” he mumbled as they walked through the silent house.
Julian flopped into one of the heavy leather armchairs standing beside the cold fireplace, and Blake knelt to start the gas logs as Julian began struggling to open the bottle of whiskey. Blake sat down opposite him, crossed his legs, and watched him, knowing that when Julian wanted to talk, he would. Especially since he’d already been into the bottle. The problem, in the end, would be shutting him up.
Finally, Julian handed the bottle wordlessly to Blake for him to open it, and he slumped back into his chair and stared up at the dark ceiling. “He’s asking questions I’m afraid to answer,” he started abruptly. “If I lie, I lose him. If I tell him the truth, I lose him and risk him being hurt.”
“Jules,” Blake said softly as he carefully set the bottle of whiskey on the floor beside his chair, hoping Julian would forget it.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“No,” Julian groaned with a shake of his head.
Blake ignored him. “What do you see in him?” he asked curiously.
Julian stared at Blake with wide eyes. “What the hell kind of a question is that?”
“An honest one,” Blake answered. “Don’t get me wrong. I adore Cameron. He’s a great guy. I’ve known him almost as long as I’ve known you. But he’s not exactly… your type,” he explained carefully.
“And my type is…”
“The type you never see again,” Blake answered wryly. “Or the type who’s likely to try to kill you afterward,” he added thoughtfully. “Of which Cameron is neither,” he clarified.
“Jesus, Blake,” Julian muttered, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
“It’s not pretty, Jules, but it’s true. Cameron’s not like us. And quite honestly, I can’t imagine how he keeps your interest. And it wouldn’t surprise me to find out he thinks the same.”
Julian sneered at that and shook his head. “I love him,” he stated angrily.
“I know you do,” Blake assured him. “But why?” he prodded.
“There’s no answer to that,” Julian protested in annoyance that was obviously heightened by the alcohol he’d already consumed. Blake actually preferred dealing with Julian when he was drunk. It was almost like dealing with a normal person, one who let his emotions show. “I don’t know why,” Julian went on in frustration. “I just…” He closed his eyes and turned his head, and the fire cast shadows over his drawn face. “When I’m with him I feel like one of the good guys,” he tried to explain.
“You’re not one of the good guys,” Blake reminded.
“Shut up,” Julian grumbled. “I just… I feel normal with him.”
“You hate feeling normal,” Blake argued. He ignored Julian’s grunt of protest and continued, leaning forward as he did so. “And how can you call what you have with him normal?” he asked in annoyance. “You see him, what, not even two days a week? Less than forty-eight hours? And you probably spend most of that screwing and sleeping. You don’t know him, not really, because you’ve not spent any real time with him. And he certainly doesn’t know you. It’s not a relationship when all you do is fuck him and leave.”
“Fuck you,” Julian said in a surprised voice.
“No, fuck you, Julian,” Blake responded calmly. “What you have is nothing near a normal relationship. Take him out somewhere.”
“You know I can’t risk that,” Julian argued.
“And so does he, doesn’t he?” Blake pointed out. “You’ve told him that much. So of course he’s going to get scared. He’s not stupid.”
“I know he’s not stupid,” Julian whispered in a stricken voice. “He’s not… he’s not one of us, just like you said. He’s the kind of man who if you gave him a gun and told him he had two choices—“shoot one of your dogs or shoot yourself in the head”—he’d put the gun to his ear and pull the trigger.”
“Hell, Jules, you’d do the same thing if someone did that to you and your goddamned cats,” Blake said in amusement.
“No,” Julian murmured with a shake of his head. “No, there’s a third option. People like us, we’re third-option people. We take the gun, stuff it in the person’s mouth, and eliminate the problem. Walk off into the sunset with our kitty.”
Blake had to press his lips together tightly in order not to smile or laugh. That was such a Julian thing to say. He wondered if he’d opened up to Cameron enough to let the other man see his odd sense of humor.
“But Cameron,” Julian continued with a wave of his hand for emphasis. “He doesn’t know there’s a third option.” He shook his head and sighed softly.
“So… you love him, partly because he’s never been exposed to that third option,” Blake surmised with a small frown. “But just by being near him, you’re exposing him to it.”
“I love him because he’s him. I don’t want to change him and lose him,” Julian argued.
“Then don’t,” Blake advised with a shrug. “I’ve never seen you truly happy before this past year. It’s him doing it. I don’t know why or how. Hell, you don’t know how. But love is a funny thing, and when you find it, you have to hold on tight. Tell him what he needs to hear. Give him what he thinks he wants.”
Julian sighed heavily and closed his eyes. “If I tell him what I am, I’ll lose him,” he said in a hoarse voice.
“I didn’t say tell him the truth,” Blake said. “Tell him what he needs to hear,” he repeated slowly. “If it’s what it takes to keep you both happy and him safe, do it.”
Julian stared at him for a long moment, nodding slightly. “And hope he never finds out?” he finally asked.
Blake shrugged in answer. “Hope he doesn’t, hope he does… Cameron might surprise you. Or he might kick you to the curb and run like hell. I know him pretty well, but I wouldn’t hazard a guess when it comes to this. It’s pretty serious, you know, if he loves you too.”
Julian grunted unhappily and continued to look at Blake as the firelight warmed the dark room.
Blake smiled slightly and shrugged. “Me, I’d run like hell from you,” he admitted freely.
Julian blinked slowly and a wicked smile began to form on his lips. “That’s because you know I top,” he responded mischievously.
Blake groaned, waved his hands through the air, and stood up, walking away from the fire and his friend. “Way too much information,” he mumbled as he left the room.
Cameron lay on his side on the couch, staring out the window at the night, though he wasn’t really seeing anything. He’d been lazy all day Saturday, and most of today as well, preoccupied with his thoughts of Julian. With his fears and questions and nerves.
With his wants.
Something about Julian made him want to just curl up in his lover’s arms and ignore the unspoken truth, whatever the truth might be, soaking in nothing but the warmth and acceptance and safety.
But he’d made himself face reality the past couple days. He truly knew next to nothing about Julian: Where he lived. What his real job was. If he had family. Why he only stayed one night and one day a week. Where he spent his time away from him. Why they never went out in public. If he were married.
Cameron made himself calm down after working himself into a tizzy. There was no reason to think Julian wasn’t on the up-and-up. Julian had never tried to sidestep a direct question. He had merely refused to answer some of them. That wasn’t lying.
He’d not actually asked Julian where he lived. Julian admitted to having a dangerous job—one that might be dangerous to Cameron as well—and he’d even hinted that he might leave Cameron rather than see him hurt. He’d never mentioned family or friends, besides Blake. Julian never offered excuses for why he couldn’t see Cameron more often, and he actually had asked Cameron once if he wanted to go out somewhere. And he didn’t wear a wedding ring.
Then there was Julian himself—tall, dark, mysterious. Devastatingly handsome and as passionate in bed as he was controlled on the streets. The whole cliché. Dangerous. To others, surely, Julian had as much as told him that. But to Cameron? He didn’t think so. Julian had never done anything to threaten or scare him, and he had even apologized on the rare occasion when he got rough, despite the fact Cameron had assured him he was enjoying it.
No, he was not afraid of Julian.
Cameron just didn’t know what to think about the rest. He wanted to believe in Julian. He loved him—desperately so. He’d just found him a handful of months ago, and this had all happened so fast. He didn’t want to let him go or be let go.
If Cameron asked more questions, asked for more explanations, would Julian change his mind and leave? Would he give him that same, lifeless look he’d given him at the party and then turn away from him? Cameron didn’t think he could handle that.
Whether he could live and love in the dark of the truth remained to be seen.
A quiet knock on the door jostled him out of his t
houghts.
Cameron’s eyes slowly slid to the door before he pushed up from the couch. The dogs were already yapping and jumping up and down. He had to push them out of the way when he got there before he could check the peephole.
Julian stood calmly in the hallway with his head bowed, waiting. It surprised Cameron again that Julian had shaved his beard off; he’d barely noticed at the party before he’d fled to the kitchen, and then he’d forgotten. Julian still looked good. Too good. It just wasn’t fair how good-looking the man was.
Cameron swallowed and took stock of his emotions. He felt relatively calm. He was a little apprehensive, but no more nervous than usual, he supposed. He unlocked the door and opened it.