Dirty Secret

Does that mean this isn't over? God, I hope it isn't over. "Oh. So, uh… did you want to have breakfast then?"

He nods. "I just ordered."

"Oh. Thanks."

"There is coffee." He motions to the coffee maker on the TV stand. "But you have a latte coming."

Mmm. A latte. That's way better than hotel drip. "Thanks." I adjust my t-shirt. "Do you need to do more work?"

"A little."

"On Saturday?"

He nods.

"Really? With the wedding next weekend?" I bite my tongue. I shouldn't remind him of the wedding. I don't even want to think about it. But it's there. Without the potent mix of alcohol and need in my veins, I'm…

Well, I'm not considering leaving. Or turning down any additional sex. Or suggesting we end this.

I'm more aware of the realities of the situation, but I still can't bring myself to care. It feels too good, watching him smile.

It's different than his usual smile. Fuller. Realer. More personal.

"Ian and I are trying to make sure nothing interrupts Ty," he says. "It's not easy. We have specific roles. Neither of us can do Ty's job."

"What is his job?"

Cam chuckles. "Give me five minutes to finish this. Then we'll talk."

"Sure." I distract myself by checking my cell. I have a few soccer reminders. A teammate defying our captain's orders, inviting people to the party she's throwing tonight. Another looking for a training partner, so she can spend the entire day running. Which I should really… "Do you know when breakfast is coming?"

"Soon."

"Oh."

He looks up from his laptop. "You need to be somewhere?"

"I should run."

"Go. I can order again."

"Oh." I press my lips together. "You want me… to come back after I run?"

"I want you to stay here, but I'm not going to stop you from training."

My chest warms. He wants me to stay here. Hell yes.

"We can run tonight if you'd like."

"Tonight?"

He nods. "It's the same temperature all day here, but it will feel cooler in the dark."

"We could do the afternoon too. The weather's in the sixties today."

He raises a brow.

"Put it in Google if you want Celsius."

"Aren't you a math major?"

"Math. Not Chemistry. I don't need to know anything about temperature systems."

"Can't give it to me in Kelvins?"

Kelvins… that's zero as absolute zero. And you add… something. Two-seventy, I think. It's been awhile since AP Chem. "Or tonight. Tonight is good too."

He nods of course in that matter-of-fact way. Like it's totally obvious we're going to train together tonight.

I decline both offers from my teammates. Send my sister a text claiming a need to study.

It's true. I have a test on Monday. I really should study.

But I can't bring myself to leave this perfect, warm space.

It's late morning. The curtains are drawn. The room is light. And the city is Cam's backdrop.

Bright blue sky, dark river, yellow sun, the silver tinted steel and glass of nearby buildings.

Maybe I'm turning into my sister. I feel a sudden need to verbalize my appreciation of the view, to drag Cam to the Empire State Building and walk around Central Park.

What would appeal most? Nature? Architecture? Modern art?

Soccer fields, maybe. Or shopping. A small coffee shop with great French Roast. An only in New York store in the Village. Maybe the rice pudding place. Or the cereal themed soft serve. The ice cream shop with chiffon yellow walls.

A walk to Washington Square Park, down to Alphabet City, to an Indian restaurant with enough string lights to make a casino jealous.

A knock on the door interrupts my train of thought. Someone outside calls, "room service."

I stand reflexively.

Cam shakes his head. "I'll get it."

"I can."

"Sit. I don't want the bellboy staring at your tits."

My cheeks flush. He's overprotective. Jealous even. I shouldn't like it, but I do.

Cam moves across the room with his usual seamless grace, no sign of hangover or exhaustion.

He thanks the room service guy, wheels the cart into the space, presents a ceramic cup brimming with milky coffee.

Then he holds it up, out of reach, teasing me.

My lips curl into a smile. "I'll knock that out of your hand."

"You won't get to drink it."

"But I'll ruin your suit."

He smiles. "So I have to take it off?"

I nod exactly, jump from my seat, feign an attempt to knock the drink from his hand.

"I have others."

"How many did you bring?"

"Three."

"Sounds excessive."

"One for work. One for the ceremony. One for leisure."

"A suit for leisure?"

He nods.

"Is it really that comfortable?"

Cam hands me the drink. "What did you think last night?"

"About you fucking me?"

His pupils dilate.

"I liked it."

"The jacket."

"It was comfortable. But not really in the realm of you fucking me."

Pride spills over his expression.

It makes me warm everywhere.

I want to earn that expression again. I want his pride in every way I can have it.

Fuck, I really like him. Way more than one night, one time. Way more than one weekend or one fling before a wedding.