The Real

“Yeah, I’m home. I was just about to head out to meet Max and school him on the court.”

“So, he’s no competition?”

I felt disgusting from sleeping so long. I needed a shower and a toothbrush. Still, I did my best to seem casual, though the invasion of his face while I lay in my bed had me a little hot under the sheets. The man was chiseled glory, and I couldn’t wait for my real first kiss. I was like a giddy teenager who got the call from the boy she’d been waiting for.

Except this was no boy. He was six-foot plus perfection.

“None. I ruin Max every time I win. I live to piss him off.”

“I want to meet him one day,” I said with a grin. “He’ll give me the dirt on you.”

“You’ll never meet him now,” he said playfully.

“Show me your place?” I asked, curious. I imagined Cameron’s home to be a real bachelor pad of a grown-up nature. He had impeccable taste in clothing, so I assumed he had the same taste in furnishings.

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.”