again.
He’d be traveling to LA in a couple of months. He could spend a few days in Philly before rehearsals started—maybe longer. It’d be easy enough to change his ticket. He made up his mind to ask Sam if he’d like him to visit. What was the worst that could happen, anyhow? The guy would say no and they’d go their separate ways.
He was only about twenty feet from Sam when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He shot Sam the hint of a smile, as if to say, I’ll get there—just a minute longer . He caught Sam’s understanding nod, then turned around to greet his admirer.
“Cam?”
Aiden’s surprise and confusion must have been easy to read, because Cameron laughed, then embraced Aiden, lingering far too long on each cheek. “I didn’t mean to give you a shock.”
Aiden thought that was exactly what Cameron had intended. And the gambit worked. Stunned and caught off guard, Aiden didn’t immediately tell Cam to go to hell.
“What are you doing here, Cam?” Aiden’s throat felt dry, so he snagged a glass of wine from one of the passing waiters and took a long drink.
Cam looked offended. “I came to hear you sing. Why else would I be here?”
Aiden took another swallow of his wine. “You shouldn’t have come. Especially for me.”
“I’ve missed you, sweetheart.” Cam leaned forward so that his lips nearly touched Aiden’s ear.
Aiden backed away far less gracefully than he had intended and bumped into one of the waiters. The sound of breaking glass turned heads.
“I’m so sorry.” Aiden was mortified. He had hoped to leave the room quietly, without anyone noticing, but all eyes were now on him and Cam. Including Sam’s. Aiden’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Excuse me, Cam,” he added, heading for the doorway without looking back.
A
IDEN sat in front of the lighted mirror in his dressing room, staring off into space, rubbing his right shoulder. God, had he really reacted like that? He’d had a hard enough time trying to forget about Cam. He clenched his jaw at this thought, and his gaze caught the huge vase filled with roses that Cameron had sent for the performance. There were at least four dozen, all a deep red.
He knew he wouldn’t—he couldn’t —go back to Cam, especially since things had been going so well with Sam. But the memory of Cam’s betrayal still hurt like hell. He closed his eyes and blew air between his lips, trying to clear his mind.
The door to the dressing room opened almost silently. If it hadn’t been for the mirror, he might not have even known he was no longer alone.
“I don’t want to talk about this, Cam.” Aiden watched Cameron in the mirror, unwilling to look at him directly.
“I want you back, Aiden.” Cameron looked genuinely distressed, as if he didn’t understand what he could have done to alienate Aiden so completely. “We simply need some time together. Alone. The yacht’s in the Mediterranean. When you finish here, we can spend a few weeks, just the two of us. Maybe stop in Cannes or—”
“You can’t buy everything, Cam.” Aiden kept his voice low, measured. “It’s over.”
“Don’t say that.” Cameron put his arms on Aiden’s shoulders and kissed the top of his head. “You know how sorry I am for what I did. I really am. I can’t live without you.”
“You don’t know how to live with me, Cam.” Aiden stood up abruptly and faced Cameron.
“I won’t ever do it again. I told you he meant nothing to me.”
“You lied to me. You promised you’d never—”
Cameron grabbed Aiden and kissed him, then snaked his arms around Aiden’s waist and pulled him close. For a split second, Aiden allowed himself to be drawn in by the kiss. But then reality reasserted itself and his brain took over from his body.
“No,” Aiden nearly shouted. “I told you, Cam. It’s over. It’s time for you to go now. Go back to your little fuck buddy.”
“But it’s so lonely in that big old house without you. Damn, Aiden, it’s your home
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
John O'Riley
Brenda Sinclair
Christopher George
Stephen Lloyd Jones
Karl Iagnemma
Celya Bowers
Jill Gregory
Aria Cunningham