Nah, Mia was the one who could help. He’d talk to her when he was back from L.A. Tell her about this stupid arrangement with Michael and throw himself at her mercy.
Grabbing a fresh towel from the rack on the wall, he dried his face and blew out another mouthful of air. Time to tell Michael their little agreement was over.
Cam strode to the kitchen, determined to do this quickly. Michael had his back to him, leaning over the breakfast bar, a little white card in his hands. Cam swallowed hard, looking at the floral arrangement that was still in the cardboard delivery vase, right in front of where the kid was standing.
“Michael?”
Slowly, Michael turned his head, the card still clutched between his fingers. He glanced down at it again, his lips moving as though he was re-reading the words.
To Doctor Love. Thank you for the rehab weekend. Especially Naked Saturday. Love Mia (your MIF) xx
Glancing up from the card, Michael’s gaze met Cam’s. He blinked, his jaw popping as though he was gritting his teeth. “What the hell is this?” he asked, his voice tight.
Cam walked forward to grab the card, but Michael wouldn’t release it. “It’s not what you think,” he said, his heart pounding against his ribcage. “Let me explain.”
“Are these from my mom?”
Cam blew out a mouthful of air. “Michael, you need to give me that card.”
Michael shook his head, as though he was trying to understand. “No. You need to tell me if this is from my mom.” His eyes met Cam’s again, the air between them filled with heavy silence. “What does MIF mean?” Michael asked.
“Nothing. It means nothing.”
“It’s like MILF, right? Mom I’d like to fuck.” Michael spat the last word out. “Are you fucking my mom?”
Cam frowned. “Michael…”
“Are you?” Michael leaned forward until his face was only inches from Cam’s. He could see the anger flashing in the boy’s eyes. “Are you having sex with my mom, Doctor Love?”
When the hell did Michael grow to be so big? He was only a few inches shorter than Cam, and all the drills and gym work they’d been doing with the team made him look broader and stronger than Cam had remembered.
He was a man. One with a boy’s anger. Cam swallowed hard.
“You need to talk to your mom,” Cam said quietly. “I can’t talk to you about this without her here.”
A low growing sound escaped from Michael’s lips. Then his hands were on Cam’s chest, barreling him over until he landed on the kitchen tiles. Michael straddled his body, pushing and pummelling him.
“You asshole. You said you were my friend. You pretended to like me to get to my mom.” His eyes were welling up, and Cam tried to reach out for him to stop the rage, but Michael batted his hands away. “You’re having sex with my mom, you bastard.” He hit him again. The blows landed heavily, but Cam didn’t move to stop him again. He had no idea what to say to the boy.
“I hate you. I goddamned hate you.” The tears were flowing down his cheeks now. “Everybody’s going to find out. The whole team. They’re going to laugh at me.”
Cam finally captured Michael’s wrists between his strong palms. The boy didn’t put up much resistance. His tears were too strong, the shaking of his chest too steady. He’d done this. He’d made an almost-grown boy cry, because he was too damn stupid to hide those flowers away.
“Nobody’s going to laugh at you,” Cam said, keeping his voice soft. “We’ll make it right.”
“We? You and me? Go fuck yourself.” Michael screwed his face up. “And stop seeing my mom. You’re disgusting. I could get you fired.”
Damn that kid was apoplectic. “Michael…”
“Don’t talk to me,” Michael warned. “Don’t say anything.” He yanked his hands from Cam’s, leaning back on his haunches. “Just leave us alone. We don’t want you.”
&nb
sp; Jumping to his feet, Michael backed up, his lips pressed tightly together.
“We need to talk about this.” Cam pushed himself up, dusting off his jeans as he looked at the boy.
“We don’t need to do anything. Just stay away from my mom or you’ll regret it.”