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Wanting Cameron

Page 122

by Ruby Shaw

“No,” I said, the word barely a whisper.

“No?” Thom’s smile widened. “Then get on yer knees.”

I dropped.

Not because I wanted to. Not because I was afraid for myself.

Because the thought of Thom touching Cameron, of his hands on Cameron’s body, his mouth on Cameron’s skin, was unbearable. Although I thought I hated Cameron, I would do anything to prevent Thom hurting him.

Even this.

Thom’s hand dug into my hair, and I closed my eyes.

The memory dissolves as the door to the sports bar opens.

Cameron and Liam step out into the cold. It’s snowing. They’re still talking. Liam claps Cameron on the shoulder, and they walk.

Toward Cameron’s apartment.

Together.

Seems like he may have moved on real fast.

Maybe pace yourself, Cameron.

The hair on the back of my neck stands up, my hands tighten into fists, and I hide them in my coat pockets.

What if they’re not just friends?

What if Liam has been waiting for this? Waiting for me to fuck it up so he could step in and⁠—

No.

No, I can’t think like that.

I can’t be like Thom. Controlling.

Cameron isn’t mine. I let him go. I chose to let him go because staying with me would destroy him. Because I’m poisonous and broken, and I would only drag him down into the same darkness that’s been eating me alive since I was thirteen years old.

He’s beautiful. Pure. Good.

And I would contaminate him. I already have.

They turn the corner, disappearing from view. They’re probably headed toward Cameron’s building.

I should find out what’s happening. Whether Liam is just walking him home or going inside. If they’re just friends, or if⁠—

No.

I turn away.

Every muscle in my body screams at me to go back. To run after them. To pound on Cameron’s door and tell him I’m sorry, that I made a mistake, that I love him and can’t breathe without him, and I don’t care about my parents or the money or any of it.

But I force myself to walk in the opposite direction. Back toward the frat house. Toward the cold, empty room where I’ll lie awake all night thinking about him.

It’s too late. I ended it. I told him it was a bad idea.

I broke his heart, then drove him home in silence while he cried.