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We went out to dinner in a nearby town and then came back to my place. If I had any doubts about the seriousness of our relationship, there were vanquished that evening.
Cam had brought Raphael over to my apartment.
Nothing got more serious than allowing a tortoise to crawl across your kitchen floor.
“He needs to get his exercise,” Cam said, sitting in front of my fridge, legs spread. “If not, he just gets fat and lazy, sitting in his shell.”
“Poor Raphael.” I picked him up and turned him back around, so he was heading toward Cam. “It has to be boring in the aquarium.”
“It’s a terrarium,” Cam corrected. “And he has a rocking terrarium. Got him a new one for his birthday.”
“You know when his birthday is?”
“Yep. July 26th.” He paused, eyeing me. “When is your birthday?”
I crossed my ankles. “Uh, you have a while until you have to worry about that. When’s yours?”
“June 15th. When is yours, Avery?”
This was about to get awkward. “It was January 2nd.”
Cam leaned forward, his brow raising. Several seconds passed as he stared at me. “I missed your birthday.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I said, waving it off. “I went to the Smithsonian and then I got sick, so it’s probably a good thing you weren’t around.”
His expression tensed. “Aw, man, that’s why you said you wanted to go there on the second. You were alone? Shit. I so feel—”
“Don’t.” I held up my hand. “You don’t need to feel terrible. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Cam watched me for a few more moments, expression sheltered. Finally, he said, “Well, there’s always next year.”
I smiled at that. Next year. Wow. Thinking that far in advance was a little scary and exciting.
After a little while, Cam scooped the turtle up and stood. “Be right back.”
While Cam took his pet back to his apartment, I rushed into the bathroom and quickly brushed my teeth. I was done seconds before he came back. He pulled the wool sweater off, draping it over the back of the couch. The gray shirt that had been on underneath stretched over his broad chest and when he stretched before he sat down, the shirt rose, exposing a span of taut skin.
My heart rate kicked up as I watched him from the hallway. Cam and I kissed—a lot—and he liked to cuddle, so in a week, I’d grown use to him having his arms around me and his lips on mine, but we hadn’t done anything like we had Thanksgiving night, even though I imagined that he wanted to. So there was many nights I went to bed, thinking about him, and while I could get some relief from what was turning into a constant low simmering ache, it wasn’t enough.
He wanted me.
I wanted him.
We were together.
And I trusted him.
Biting down on my lip, I toyed with the edge of the sweater dress I wore. I’d taken off the boots and tights when we’d gotten back and now tiny bumps spread across my bare legs.
Was he waiting for me to make the first move? He seemed so… careful with me, as if he was worried that I’d run away from him. I wanted to run to him. Cam glanced over at me, brow raised. The room was dark with the exception of the glow from the TV. “You going to come over here or stare at me the rest of the evening?”
My cheeks flushed as I pushed away from the door. I could do this. I didn’t need to wait on him to make a move.
Gathering my courage, I walked over to him. He stared up at me with those extraordinary eyes as he lifted a hand. I placed mine in his, but instead of sitting beside him, I climbed into his lap, straddling him.
Cam immediately straightened, his hands flying to my hips. “Hey there, sweetheart.”
“Hey,” I replied, heart pounding so fast there was a good chance I was going to have a heart attack.
