Sylvia and her talented piano fingers crushed the notes and brought us back to the classic rock ’n’ roll era of Chuck Berry and Jerry Lee Lewis, and it was fucking impossible not to get swept away by it.
I opened the door but didn’t take a single step past the doorway. Madonn’, I didn’t know how to react. I didn’t know what I’d expected either. It suddenly made sense why Camden had his own room, however. King didn’t strike me as the type who wanted his walls filled with action figures, video games, and toys. The room was absolutely packed. Floor-to-ceiling shelves—aside from the short ends of the room. One side reserved for a big bed, the other for a gaming nook. At the foot of his bed, he had a dresser with a big flat-screen on it.
The boy himself sat in the middle of his bed, a thick duvet with a Spider-Man design pooling around his waist. Stuffed animals, from traditional teddy bears to Ewoks, scattered all over.
“Hi again.” Camden wore another shy grin for me, much like he’d done earlier today. “I took a super-long nap, and now I’m not tired at all.”
I had to say something. I had to treat him in a special way.
But God, I could just listen to that boyish voice all night.
“I coulda used a nap too, but I helped your Daddy prepare for the barbecue.”
Camden’s lovely blue eyes lit up. “He makes the best barbecue in the whole galaxy.” He reached past the duvet pile he was buried in and patted a spot on his mattress. “Come sit with me right here, please? We can watch Winter Soldier together. It’s Captain America.”
I closed the door behind me, utterly transfixed, and made my way over to his bed. His innocence was beautiful. So fucking beautiful.
As I sat down on the edge of the bed, he did the opposite and jumped off, revealing a tight little butt in Spider-Man briefs.
The tattoos around his calves had sharp edges, and he wore them like cuffs. I wanted to get a closer look at the designs.
I wanted to see the tiny tattoo of a snake on his hand again too. I wanted answers.
“Do you want a soda, Sir?” he asked as he fetched a DVD from the shelf. “I’m allowed to have soda on weekends.”
“I won’t say no to a soda,” I replied. I had to admit I liked it when he called me Sir too.
That was new and unexpected.
“So your Daddy told me that you picked the winners for his contest,” I said.
“I did!” He skipped back to the bed with his remote in a tight grip, and he squatted down in front of the nightstand on the other side. “I saw all your pictures and got the biggest crush,” he giggled. “Daddy thought that was funny.”
I…had nothing. I was overwhelmed by all the new impressions. It was gonna take me a minute to process everything.
Camden opened what turned out to be a mini fridge rather than a nightstand, and he picked out two bottles of Coke.
“Can you open them, please? I can’t find my opener.”
“Of course.” I grabbed the two glass bottles and retrieved my keys from my pocket.
“I have snacks too.” He pointed toward his desk across the room. “One chocolate is probably okay, but Daddy said he’d bring me dinner soon. I already ate all the sammiches he made me earlier.”
I must’ve missed that.
“You’re not going to eat with the rest of us, then?” I handed him his Coke and set my own on the nightstand on this side of the bed.
“No.” He took a big gulp of his soda, then rubbed his nose vigorously. “It fizzles and sizzles!”
I grinned. My heart felt like it had just doubled in size. How freaking strange this was.
“I’m gonna be super sneaky and try to convince you to stay up here too,” he informed me. “You and I can eat dinner together, and Daddy will miss us and kick the other yahoos out of the house.”
I exhaled a surprised laugh, to which he gave me a dopey grin.
“You’re so gorgeous,” he said. “I knew you’d be perfect.”
Someone had to clue me the fuck in soon. All this youthful honesty about crushes and being perfect for something and being so adamant about seeing me…I couldn’t grasp any of it.
Camden straightened abruptly, and if we’d lived in a cartoon, a lightbulb woulda gone off above his head. “Do you want me to burp the alphabet?”
“Mannaggia, e’ un bambinone,” I chuckled to myself. “No, I want you to tell me if you have a dirty Instagram account and recently liked most of my pictures.”
His grin turned sheepish. “Maybe? Please don’t say anything to Daddy. I haven’t told him that part of my evil genius plan yet, and he was already wary of letting me make that account public. It’s just supposed to be me practicing erotic photography.”