Out of the Blue (18 page)

“I meant sharing a plate… you know, tapas. Try a bit of everything?” Cam babbled, seemingly aware of my sudden mood shift.

I couldn’t answer, I could only stare at him with a lump the size of California stuck in my throat. My mind had been so warped by Luke that I immediately thought the worse. I cringed at my stupidity.

“Oh god, Jake. I… I’m sorry. When did I get so lame?” Cam’s voice cracked, and I realized he knew about Luke.

“I’m sorry too. Don’t be hard on yourself. We’ve both got issues we need to work on, but yes, I think sharing a meal is a great idea.” I smiled, hoping to help Cam overcome his faux pas and settle my own nerves.

Cam’s smile returned, although it was a bit warier. “Okay.”

Our glasses of Sangria were filled, and with enough plates of different varieties of tapas to feed a small army, the dinner passed pleasantly. We eased into conversation about family, the grape harvest I helped out with, and what Cam’s parents had been up to. He hadn’t seen them for a while, and Cam made a promise to himself to visit soon. Beth was due for another trip to the Bay Area. Her husband, Greg, had to travel for work again, and I suggested taking her out to the vineyard for a few days. Cam’s eyes twinkled with hope; he probably thought I meant both of us.

Did I?
I had no idea.

The food was pretty much gone and the wine finished. Cam paid the bill, then grabbed my hand as we stood on the sidewalk. His hand was warm, comforting, and familiar. “Can we walk? I think it’s best that I walk and talk if that’s okay?”

“Sure.”

I reluctantly dropped Cam’s hand and started to walk.

Cam walked and talked. He didn’t stop talking. I studied his features as I listened to his words, and although he had trouble talking about certain parts of the story, he didn’t falter. His forehead would scrunch up in frustration and his eyes would well with tears. We didn’t touch or hold hands, even though, through some parts of it, I had an overwhelming need to hold him.

Cam told me what had started it all: the accident on the freeway. He told me everything he knew about James Montague, the little boy with the familiar features. I remember the massage I’d given him in the shower that morning and his reaction to me when I came home to find him cooking Bessie’s special meat sauce.

Cam flushed with embarrassment when he told me about some of the stupid things he’d said to his therapist, Linda. He told me about the nightmares and why they scared him so much. The ones I had witnessed scared me enough, but now that I knew the reason behind them, they scared me even more.

Cam admitted his reasons for not telling me any of it seemed quite lame now, and although he was trying to protect me from the images he saw and the memory of my parents’ death, he’d also struggled with his own sense of mental toughness. His biggest fear was, even though he was a skilled firefighter, he wouldn’t be able to save me.

Therapy had taught him that just because he struggled with some images, it didn’t make him weak. It made him human.

So we walked and Cam talked, occasionally wiping the unshed tears from his eyes and running his hands through his hair in anger with himself for letting it get so bad.

He told me the most important parts but I knew there was more, and my chest tightened hearing the stress and sadness in his voice. Cam hadn’t told me everything about Kris yet and we’d almost walked the entire way to our apartment, when he grabbed my hand.

“There’s more I need to tell you, babe, but I’m wiped out. Can we grab a beer first?” he asked, nodding to the bar across the street.

“Sure, c’mon,” I said, squeezing his hand and heading toward the door.

It was a small bar around the corner from our home, one we had been to a few times. It wasn’t super popular, but it was never empty. I ordered a couple of beers, and we sat at a table near the window.

Cam was relaxed now that he’d laid almost everything at my feet, and it was clear a huge weight had lifted from his shoulders. His eyes twinkled brightly at me from across the table. From the smile quirking his lips, it appeared my relaxed and happy Cam was coming back. I’d missed him; vulnerable wasn’t an emotion that suited him.

Live music started to play in the far corner, and I turned to watch the band. The Black Brothers were identical twins, and if they were shorter, they would be twinks. They were close to six foot tall with jet black hair and matching dark eyes. The twin singing a blues number wore his black hair slicked back and styled perfectly, not a strand out of place. The other twin, strumming a guitar behind him, let his unruly black curls fall over his face as he played. Individually they were both attractive men to look at, but together they were hot, and they had a small following around the suburbs.

The song wrapped up and I focused my attention back to Cam, but he was looking over my shoulder, distracted. His eyes widened and he shook his head slightly. Turning to see what had his attention, I saw Kris standing at the bar, looking like he was about to come over.

My blood boiled as it raced through my veins. There was no mistaking it this time, I was done. I wasn’t going to be humiliated again. I turned back to Cam and saw the desperate pleading in his eyes, and my stomach plummeted. I was going to be sick.

“How
could
you?” I whisper-hissed as I stood to leave.

Swaying on my feet, I made my way through the crowd to the door, grabbing the brick wall to steady myself. Making it outside, I ran down the street, tears blurring my vision.

“Jake, wait. Jake!”

I didn’t stop.

“Jake, please let me explain.” The asshole was catching up.
How did he become a faster runner than me?
But I wasn’t running, it only felt like I was as my heart raced and my lungs burned, and as I reached the apartment building next to ours—I must have run there on instinct—my two-timing ex-boyfriend caught my arm and spun me around. Cam’s arms wrapped around me and held me so tight I couldn’t get free. Damn him for being so strong.

“God, Jake, I’m sorry. I didn’t know Kris was going to be there, I swear. He wants to apologize, and when he saw us sitting there, he must’ve thought it was a good time. He must’ve thought we’d patched things up and were back together.” Cam’s voice choked on a sob but I didn’t care… I was pissed.

I fought to get my arms free, and Cam, sensing my need to get away, let me go. I turned around, and with the blood rushing through my ears, I grabbed his face in my hands and kissed him hard.

I hadn’t planned on kissing him.

I’d planned on punching him. The kiss wasn’t tender or loving; it was angry and bruising… and also confusing. I hated him, but that didn’t make a difference to the familiar feel of his lips as they surrendered easily to mine.

My cock didn’t seem to know the difference between love and hate either.

Disgusted with myself and with Cam, I shoved him away from me as I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth. Both of us stumbled backward, our chests heaving, Cam’s eyes glittering equally with lust and loss.

My cock didn’t care that I was repulsed as it held all my blood and my thoughts. I grabbed the bastard’s collar and hauled him into me, kissing him again. Heat and hatred fueled me, urging me on. I was beyond angry and I wanted to scream to the night sky. Cam didn’t fight… he grabbed my ass and ground our cocks together through our jeans. The feel of him and the raw desire ratcheted the tempo of my lust and hatred even higher.

Cameron

We were two steps away from fucking on the street, and chance had it that we were only two steps away from our apartment. We crashed through the front door and Jake grabbed my shoulders, bruising my skin as he pushed me backward to our bedroom.

Jake was rough. He wasn’t normally that dominant, but every now and then, he’d take charge and fuck me into submission, and every time was hot as hell. The fact that it didn’t happen often meant it was even more enjoyable when it did, and it always blew my mind and my dick apart. This was one of those times, and although I knew something wasn’t right and I should stop him, I was powerless against his onslaught. My need to touch him overrode anything my brain was telling me.

Jake stripped my jeans from me without any preamble and shoved me face first into the mattress. I heard his khakis hit the floor as he reached for the lube in the drawer. A quick finger roughly shoved into my hole was all the prep I was going to get.

Then I heard it. The telltale ripping of foil as Jake opened a condom.

We hadn’t used condoms in years, and my heart sank. It confirmed everything I already knew.

Jake didn’t trust me. At all.

Any sliver of hope I had was gone in the rustling of a foil packet.

My brain finally caught up, and it hit me like a freight train: this was an angry fuck. We’d never had angry sex before; sure, we’d had rough and hard, and slow and sweet, but never angry. Our first angry fuck was going to be our last, of any kind.

Jake pushed my shoulder hard into the mattress, guiding his cock into me without any hesitation. One quick thrust, and he was in. It stretched and burned, but I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t even groan.

He pistoned in and out of my stretched-to-the-limit hole in quick, hard thrusts that bordered on painful. He dug his fingers into my shoulders, using me for more leverage while pushing me harder into the bed.

Jake was seething, and his angry words, harshly whispered, rained down on me like molten lava. “You
bastard
. How could you do this to me?
To us
!”
Each word was punctuated with a thrust of his hips.

All I could do was close my eyes against the tears I didn’t want him to see fall. I deserved everything he gave me, every insult. I deserved all of it for destroying what we had.

Trying not to make a sound, I attempted to hold back my emotions, but Jake must’ve heard something as his hips stuttered, then came to an abrupt halt. Sliding his cock from my abused ass, he stumbled backward. Jake’s back hit the wall and he dropped to the floor, muttering quietly, “What have I done?”

Unsure what to do, I lay on the bed, not moving except for my heaving shoulders as I tried to catch my breath. My dick had deflated long ago. Jake remained on the floor, resting his head on his knees and pulling so hard on his hair the muscles and veins stuck out on his arms as he rocked. His shoulders rolled with his sobs and whispered screams. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

I sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, my sore ass making me wince a little. “Jake?”

“Oh god. I’m so sorry. I… I don’t know what… I’m so sorry, I can’t…”

“Can I… Can I sit with you? Please?” My tears made my voice pitch high, and it sounded foreign, even to me.

Jake’s head was still on his knees, but he nodded hesitantly. I pulled on my jeans and sat on the floor, wrapping my arms around him as he sobbed into my shoulder. This wasn’t the way I’d seen the night going.

“Babe? Can you talk to me, please? Tell me what’s going on,” I whispered into his hair.

“Oh, Cam, I’m sorry, so sorry. Did I hurt you? Please tell me I didn’t hurt you.” Jake’s voice cracked as the reality of what happened seemed to hit him.

“No, babe. I’m okay. Can you talk to me? Please?”

“Oh god. Please tell me you weren’t trying to set up a threesome with Kris, I know you weren’t, but…” Jake asked quietly, burying his head in my shoulder once more.

“Babe, look at me… look at me, please,” I repeated when he burrowed closer. Jake reluctantly raised his head, looking at me with red-rimmed eyes that made the blue pop even more than usual. He shouldn’t be gorgeous like this, but he was. Cupping his face gently so he couldn’t look away, I wiped the tears from his cheeks with my thumbs and looked him right in those beautiful, watery blue eyes.

“There is no way I would share you… with anybody. The only threesome I want to have is with Bruce. And you.”

Jake’s lips tried to twitch in a smile at the memory, but didn’t quite make it. I wrapped my arms around him again and breathed in his familiar scent. Even though he smelled like Caroline’s shampoo, his familiar scent was still there, and I locked it in my memory.

“I’d never do that to you, Jake, never. I don’t want anyone else for the rest of my life… only you. It’s always been you. Ever since that first day I watched you talking to Caroline on campus, I couldn’t get you out of my head for that entire week. And then when I finally met you? It was worse. I couldn’t stay away from you, and I’ve missed you so damn much.” My tears tracked marks down my cheeks and my voice cracked. “I love you, Jake. Whether or not you still want me, my love for you isn’t ever going to go away.”

We sat quietly for long minutes, wrapped in each other’s arms as our tears flowed. Jake’s dick, soft now against his thigh, still wore the condom, and the sight of it hurt more than anything.

Our breathing evened out, and I ran a hand gently through Jake’s soft hair. “C’mon, babe, let’s get cleaned up and dressed. I’ll put the coffee on and I’ll tell you the rest. Okay?” Jake nodded against my shoulder and let his arms fall away.

My chest constricted with the thought that this was it. Jake wasn’t going to forgive me, and he’d walk away. Just like he did in my dream.

Jake

What have I done?

I saw red, and I was so angry I didn’t recognize myself. That wasn’t me; it wasn’t who I’d always been. I couldn’t explain what came over me and I was powerless to stop myself until I heard a pained, almost-silent cry coming from Cam beneath me. My stomach twisted with self-loathing.

I sat on the floor in our bedroom and heaving sobs wracked my whole body. My throat seized and I couldn’t breathe, the air was too thick, and my lungs hitched with each short breath.
Why couldn’t I breathe?
I was lucky I was already on the floor because there was no way I could stand, but I wanted to run and hide from the shame that threatened to drown me.

I had taken the man who meant more to me than anyone else. With force? I couldn’t be sure and I didn’t want to think about it, although I’m sure Cam had the strength to stop me if he’d wanted to. Regardless, what I had done was unforgivable, unconscionable, and I hated myself.