Page 4 of Off Balance

“Of course we did, son.”

Cameron’s eyes flatten at the words, a closed-off look replacing his astonishment at having seen his stepfather here. Dwaynecringes, likely also noticing the chill in the air, and pulls me in closer. He must think introducing me will help overshadow whatever that painful little moment was about.

“And it gave me a chance to drag Dom here out of his cave and into civilized society."

Cameron looks directly into my eyes now. I can't decide if they're mostly green or amber, but they're so light they make his thick eyelashes look darker than the natural brown of his roots. He must have bleached his hair or something, because the length of his shiny hair is almost blond.

"Dom?"

Either I'm having a stroke, or the entire room slows down when he says my name. I watch his mouth form the word, hear his smooth, sultry voice bend it to his will the way he made the music bend to him while dancing. I imagine I can feel his soft breath across my skin.

"Uh, yeah. That's Uncle Dom to you, I suppose," Dwayne cuts in, probably trying to make up for my lack of response to the introduction. He thumps my back a little too forcefully. "This is my brother, Domenick. He just moved back to town. Dom, meet your new nephew, Cameron."

Cameron swallows, and I follow the movement, mimicking it, except my throat is too dry despite my mouth being full of too much saliva. What the actual fuck is happening to me?

"It's, uh, nice to meet you?"

The way he says it sounds more like a question than a statement, but I can't blame him for being put off by my weird behavior. I don't even know who I am right now. But my brain is enamoredby the sound of his voice, the delicate curve of his neck, the movement of his sinewy, graceful arm as he tentatively extends it for a handshake. I stare at his long, manicured fingers for too long before shaking myself out of it enough to accept the gesture, enveloping his much smaller hand in my bearish grip.

Fuck. His hand is so soft. I trace the tendons that run up from his fingers to his arm, examining his posture. My eyes get stuck on the proprietary hand that Alistar places on his shoulder, fingers digging into Cameron’s skin as he comes to stand by his side again. His grip looks tight enough that I imagine pink imprints left behind from his touch. And I don't like that at all. My own grip closes tighter around Cameron's hand, but even in my moment of anger, I don't squeeze him. I'm hyper-aware of my size compared to his, how easy it could be to hurt him. To mark him. To break him. The thought has me loosening my grip even though I don't want to.

My brother elbows me in the ribs lightly. Cameron's hand gives a little squeeze. My gaze snaps back up to his, and I blink rapidly at his wide, questioning eyes.

"Sorry," I mutter, clearing my throat and reluctantly releasing his hand. "Sorry," I repeat, in a more normal tone. I put on a fake smile that could rival Cameron's. "I think I got a little star-struck there for a minute. You were…breathtaking."

"Oh, are you a fan of the ballet, then?" Alistar asks in his pompous tone.

"No," I say honestly, not sparing a glance at him.

Cameron's features soften, and he graces me with a warm smile. A real one. I can see the amusement dancing behind his paleirises.They’re hazel, but they can’t decide if they’re more green than light brown. A meadow of clover drowning in amber honey.

Breathtaking was an apt word to use, considering I don't think I took a breath the entire time he was on stage. And now, standing in front of him, the smile he gives me takes the air right from my lungs.

He's…

There aren't words for it. He's perfect. Beautiful, obviously. But his mere presence is effervescent, the way I'd imagine being around an angel would be like.

Before I'm quite aware of what's happening, the pompous asshole is guiding the angel away from me. I watch them get swallowed by a crowd of ass kissers who are kissing the wrong ass.

"Oh, Emile, he's just lovely. Truly well done," an older woman says to him, as if Cameron's talent belongs to him.

My eye twitches. I need to get the fuck out of here.

Dwayne shakes his head and thumps my back as he turns around, quietly apologizing to the couple standing closest to us. They look scandalized, scrambling to clear my path as I make my way towards the exit. I guess I said that out loud?

I'm in my own world the entire way home. I'd barely said anything to Dwayne when we parted ways outside the building, just gave him a one-armed hug and nodded when he mentioned coming over for dinner one night.

Now I'm overthinking the invitation.Will Cameron be there?

The loud voice of my conscience is shouting at me to stay away. To not make things awkward around the few people I have left in my life. Because I'm not sure I can be anywhere near the man I saw tonight and behave normally. Not when every cell in my body is vibrating with the need to get closer to him. To know him. To own him.

Christ, I'm fucked in the head.

He’s Dwayne’s stepson. And he can’t be much older than twenty. He’s barely legal, for fuck’s sake!

He’s supposed to be family. He’s too young. Not to mention he’s ahe, although he’s pretty enough to almost forget that minor detail. Too pretty for me, that’s for sure.

No matter how loud the voice is, though, I know without a shadow of a doubt that I'll stop ignoring my brother's invites to any and every family function, dinner, or outing.

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