“Yeah.”
Shrugging, I went back to gazing out at the lights in the distance. “I think weird things have happened to us in a very short time, but if even one thing hadn’t happened, or had happened differently—if you had come back to the hotel like you said you wanted to—I feel strongly that I would have pushed you to make plans with me even if you thought I was insane. It’s what I wanted, and I’m not afraid to tell you that.”
“I would have asked to make plans too,” he husked.
I pivoted to face him, stood there and smiled at him. “Then tell me what’s bothering you. Let’s fix it and move forward, and stop second-guessing anything else.”
He stared at me, and I held his gaze but said nothing. Finally, he shrugged his wide shoulders. “I don’t get you.”
“How do you mean?”
“You’re successful and gorgeous…so what the hell’re you doing here with me?”
I stayed silent.
“No, I don’t mean it like I’m so pathetic or whatever, but c’mon, Cam, what would your parents think about you slumming with someone like me?”
“And what about you, precisely, constitutes slumming?”
He turned away, and I went about the task of cleaning up dinner, waiting for his answer.
“So what’s the plan for the morning?”
Okay. Apparently we were changing the topic.
“Well, I have a couple of apartments for us to look at, and––”
“Wait. I gotta ask something else first.”
I had the urge to throttle him. I suspected if things worked out between us, it would not be for the last time.
He opened his mouth, started, stopped, and then sat up straighter in bed, wincing a bit as he made himself comfortable again. “When we talked on the phone—I was so out of it I can’t—do you remember what I said?”
“I recall every word.”
“Every word, huh?”
I gave him the slightest nod.
“Like what, for instance?”
Crossing my arms, I tilted my head as I waited for whatever this was to pass.
“What?”
He got a shrug in response.
“What did I say?” he pressed me.
I went with the least uncomfortable first. “You agreed that I could fix the situation you’re currently in, the most pressing at the moment being to find you an apartment in Sacramento, a new job closer to school, and to rearrange your schedule at The Mission.”
“Oh. Okay.” He seemed relieved there had been no apparent baring of his soul.
I waited, and after several minutes, during which time he fidgeted with the tray table and the covers and the IV line, he finally met my gaze.
“Shit, there was more.”
“I’m aware that you know exactly what you said, Jeremiah,” I began, my tone a bit cooler than I intended, but he was being ridiculous, and I needed to make sure he understood this. “Your whole ‘I was so out of it I don’t recall’ act is crap.”
He was silent a moment, and I saw the muscles in his jaw clench and the tendons in his neck cord as he dealt with, I suspected, a bit of panic over the idea that he had shown me his hand, which he always, without fail, played close to the chest. “You don’t think…I’m weak or whatever, because I said I don’t want to be alone and––”
“Why would it be weak to not want to be alone?”
“Lots of people are alone, and they deal with it.”
“Agreed. Do you think, given a choice, they would choose to remain alone?”
He glanced away. When he returned his gaze to me, he was glaring. “Bottom line.”
“Please,” I insisted, the order there in my voice.
“I don’t want you doing things for me, or with me, ’cause you feel sorry for me.”
“Why on earth would I feel sorry for you?”
“Because I’m fuckin’ poor.”
I nodded.
“I don’t need you to take care of me,” he spat, and I heard the simmering anger there. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I can take care of myself.”
The wall of pride was high and thick and covered in barbed wire. He’d been building it around his heart for years, and it was made of disappointment and frustration and pain.
“I have no doubt you can,” I assured him.
“Then what the hell is all this? You and the apartment and––”
“I thought that perhaps since I’m in Sacramento often, instead of staying at a hotel, it might be nice to stay with you. It’s not about saving the company money on hotel rooms but about us having a place we could share.”
His gaze was locked on me, and as far as I could tell, he was holding his breath.
“I also have a lead on a job I think you might enjoy. I planned to take Monday off and go with you to The Mission, because, for one, I’d like to see more of this place you love, and two, I’d like to be with you when you meet with Mrs. Chow to speak to her about your schedule.”