Page 52 of Ruled By Fate

“And my most sincere compliments to the—”

“And I’ll tell Frank you’re a fan.” The waiter walked off to the kitchen, shaking his head.

Mike let out a whooping laugh the second he was gone, clapping Cameron on the shoulder. “You are such a weirdo. I love it. Full on When Harry Met Sally, right in the middle of the local dive. Really humanizes you and makes up for the whole Ken doll thing.” He flashed a drunken grin, talking around a French fry as he kicked back and gave Cameron a thoughtful look. “So, I have a guess. Your parents were super religious, right?”

Cameron snapped out of his food frenzy and froze. “How did you…?”

Mike nodded as though this was all the confirmation he needed.

“You wanted to be the archangel Michael when you were a kid, you always talk like you’re in church or an eighteenth-century novel, you’ve clearly never had a beer or a burger before, and the fact that Hollywood hasn’t poached you yet means you must have been hiding out in Amish country because I don’t see how else they might have missed you.”

Brie glanced up in confusion. “Wait, who’s Michael, and why did you want to be him?”

“This isn’t the time, Brie.” Mike grinned. “Cam here needs to try a French fry.”

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Cameron spent the next hour indulging in a feast of culinary delights.

Brie spent the time re-upping her blood alcohol level.

After three more burgers for Cameron and another for Mike, a small mountain of fries, some wide-eyed rapture when introduced to the concept of a root beer float, and one trip to the kitchen during which Cameron admiringly shook Frank’s hand and told him that he was “doing God’s work, and I should know,” the friends decided to take a rideshare service home and fetch their cars in the morning.

“Don’t forget, man.” Mike pointed to Cameron as they pulled up to Brie’s new house. “This Sunday. Do not bail on me. And do not be late.”

“This Sunday,” Cameron echoed obediently. “I will play all your sports.”

“Well, that promises to be entertaining.” Sherry giggled in the back seat, scooting aside as Mike climbed back in beside her. “See you tomorrow, love!”

The car shot off down the street, leaving Brie and Cameron on the sidewalk. They started heading slowly toward the house. It was quiet now, much quieter than the constant clamor of the bar. After a few seconds, he cast her a shy look. “What did you think?”

She considered a moment, then beamed at him. “I think it was a massive success.”

He chuckled under his breath as she spun around to face him. “And you. You, my book writing, burger devouring thanatologist,” she giggled at her own cleverness, impressed she’d remembered the word, “you were wonderful.”

His cheeks colored with a rare blush. “Only because I had an excellent teacher to explain the finer points of human idiosyncrasies before we left.”

She grinned in return. “I am rather splendid, aren’t I?”

“You certainly are.”

She leaned abruptly closer, trying to keep her composure, darting quick glances at his lips. It had been a long time since she’d been in this position. The barrel of alcohol didn’t help. “You really think so?”

He glanced down in surprise, reaching out to steady her. “I really do.”

It was quiet for a moment as she studied him in the moonlight. He was all sunlit haloes in the daytime, but the moon had a different effect, making him quiet and silver, like a shimmering reflection. One that drew her ever closer. One that she was aching to reach out and touch.

“Do you know what else I think?”

He tensed ever so slightly, still holding onto her arms. “What’s that?”

She stretched onto her toes so the warmth of her breath feathered his cheek. A hypnotic spell overcame both of them, vanishing the surrounding scenery, as she whispered into his ear, “I think you’re very… very…”

That’s when she blacked out.

Chapter Eleven: Nightmare in Reverse

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