Page 12 of Off Balance

Cameron stands. "Here, I'll show you."

His already impeccable posture lengthens, and he turns his legs so the heels of his Converse sneakers are touching and his toes are facing outward. He rests one hand on the back of a chair, places the other on his hip, and lifts one foot up. He flexes his ankle, then moves his foot in and out, lifts his knee, and does a few different movements in that position. I don't pay much attention to the exercise itself, because it's for dancers, not for fighters. But I marvel at his poise with each movement.

A gentle, and I think authentic, smile plays over his lips.

"Do you want to try?"

I shake my head. "Nah, I'm good watching you."

Well, that came out far more suggestive than intended. I clear my throat and avoid looking to see if anyone overheard my slip. Cameron's eyebrow lifts, and I quickly cover my tracks.

"Looks useful for dancing. I bet your ankles get tired." Andthatsounded condescending!What the hell am I even talking about?! Shut up, Dom!

"It's not as easy as it looks. Come on," he coaxes, resorting to pulling me up by an arm. His hands tighten around either side of my bicep. "Wow, okay," he mutters. And like a puppet on a string, I follow him.

He moves the chairs so the backs are facing us, then turns to put his back to me. He shows me the stance again, and I make a clumsy attempt at copying him. Cameron chuckles under his breath and bends down to reposition my feet.

"Keep your hips pointed straight," he says, angling them. I look down at him in front of me when his hands touch my hips. "Straighten your spine. Good. Just stand this way for a moment,feel the stretch in the back of your calves." His hands lightly touch the backs of my calves, where the muscle feels tight. I breathe deeply, trying to temper my body's reaction to having him look up at me from the position he's in. To having him touch me.

When breathing exercises don’t prevent my dick from twitching in my pants, I try holding my breath entirely. What is it about him that’s causing me to react this way?

"Okay," he breathes, moving his hands to either side of my legs. "Now, lift this foot and flex it from the ankle, just like that. Good. Now keep it flexed and lift it straight out. Keep your hips straight and hold the pose. Do you feel the tension running up the inside of your thigh?"

I nod, swallowing thickly. I feel more than one kind of tension running up the inside of my thigh.Fuck.

"Good. Now, without moving your hips or thigh, bend at the knee and point your toe at your opposite knee."

He stands, holding my leg in position. It feels a bit intimate, and a little vulnerable. My loose athletic shorts are doing nothing to hide the situation that I'm desperately trying to breathe through and avoid. Cameron instructs me to extend my leg, pointing out and then back in several times, all the while helping support my leg. It's lucky he's so much shorter than I am, because I can't lift my leg very high. I feel ridiculous, and weak. I can lift and squat for hours, but his simple stretch is making the muscles in the backs of my legs tremble and burn. Or is it that he's touching me so intimately?

Cora and Dwayne return with the food, and I thank God for the opportunity to sit down. The food is fantastic, the conversationis easy and casual. Cora tells stories about some of the crazy stuff she's seen while working the registration desk in the emergency room. Dwayne watches her adoringly, while I watch Cameron out of the corner of my eye. He takes very small mouthfuls, chewing each bite methodically, and taking a large gulp of water between each one. I've eaten two large chicken breasts, a plate full of grilled vegetables, and two helpings of pasta salad by the time he's finished his tiny portion.

"You don't eat much," I say quietly, while he and I clear the table, and Dwayne and Cora start a fire in the firepit.

"You don't say much," he retorts. He checks his phone, which I've noticed him doing a lot tonight.

Little does he know, I've said more today than I normally do. Because I want to talk to him. I want to know about him.

We load the dishwasher in silence, but the tension between us feels loud. When we're walking towards the backdoor, Cameron stops for a moment, turning around like he might say something, but his phone buzzes, distracting him from whatever he was going to say. He frowns at the phone, then sets it on an end table and leaves it there on our way outside.

Cora and Dwayne are sitting together close to the fire, both with sticks held over the fire, large marshmallows on the ends. I notice Cameron doesn't pick up anything to make himself a s'more, so I take it upon myself to make him one. When I hand it to him, he shakes his head.

"No thanks," he says with an easy smile. "I'm in training."

"So am I," I say, taking a big bite of the gooey mess. I don't miss the way his eyes narrow on my mouth, or the flash of desirethere. He wants it, but he holds out, watching me eat the sweet treat instead of indulging himself.

"Just one bite?" I ask, offering him the last piece.

He laughs and shakes his head. "Believe it or not, I don't actually love s'mores. I like the idea of them, and all the components individually. But together, it's a bit too much for me."

"Alright, then." I reach for a stick and pop a marshmallow on it before hovering it over the fire. On the other side, Cora and Dwayne are cuddled up together, gazing at each other with undisguised fondness and talking quietly amongst themselves. I shoot a glance at Cameron. "They always like that?"

"Disgustingly lovey-dovey?" He scrunches his nose. "Always. Even when people aren't around. It's unnatural."

I laugh out loud, startling the cozy couple. When they settle back into their cuddle session, I turn to Cameron again. "Unnatural?"

"They have permanent heart eyes for each other. I think it might be a medical condition."

"They seem happy." I've never seen my brother so content. It reminds me of how our parents were before things got tough.

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