Page 13 of Stray for You

“Are you eating enough?” Mom says. “If you need me to drop off groceries…”

“Mom, you aren’t going to buy my groceries for me,” I say. “I’m an adult.”

“That doesn’t mean your mother can’t help you. You’re getting skinny.”

“I’m fine, Mom. It’s just been a long day. I was at the café all day, and I had a show last night.”

Mom and Aunt Mary’s eyes light up at the mention of the show, and I immediately regret bringing it up. Normally, I treasure their support for my attempt at a career in music, but this is one time I’d prefer they forget all about The Ten Hours.

“You had a show last night?” Aunt Mary says around a mouthful of lasagna.

I take a big bite, but only partially because I’m starving. Chewing saves me from having to respond. The last thing I want to do is relive last night … not that I haven’t been doing that all day.

I swallow, and there’s nowhere left to run. They’re both waiting on me.

“Yeah,” I say. “Downtown.”

“And?” Mom prompts.

“It went pretty well,” I say.

“That’s it?”

“I don’t know what to say. It was just our usual thing. We’ve been playing the same material for two years. It was fine, I guess.”

Mom sighs, but doesn’t actually look upset.

“You downplay your talent too much, Cameron,” Aunt Mary says. “You’re extraordinary with that guitar of yours. You should be proud of it.”

“Thanks,” I mutter, looking down at my dinner instead of up at them.

They’re both so supportive of me. Moving out here and getting Mom set up with Aunt Mary has been great for all three of us. We might not be a super conventional family, but this feels more like family than anything I experienced back in New Jersey. Even before Dad left, he was checked out. Walking out the door only made it official.

So I’d love to tell them all about the show. I’d love to gush about what the band is working on, the festival we applied for, the song I’m attempting to write. But all of that comes tainted with the memory of Julian cornering me in the parking lot. Once again, he’s barged into my life uninvited and smudged what should be a purely happy memory.

I stab at my lasagna with unnecessary force. He messed with me and Mom’s lives enough in New Jersey. No way in hell am I letting him do that to us again while he’s out here for his stupid work conference. Why? Why did he have to go and kiss me like that? I was about to shove him away and he justlunged. I froze up, unsure what to do.

At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself.

Even as I repeat the script in my head, warmth drips into my belly, a heat that has no place seeping into me alongside the name “Julian Brooks.” He stayed against my mouth way too long. I should have pushed him away, but I was too shocked to respond at first.

I mean, I guess my mouth responded. A little. Kind of. But that’s an involuntary reaction, an instinct. What was I going to do? Bite him? No way. He’d probably like that way too much andget all weird about it. In fact, he should be thanking me for not shoving him away immediately. I had every right to kick him in the balls in that parking lot, but I didn’t.

Because part of me didn’t want to.

I almost choke on my lasagna. Mom and Aunt Mary are talking about the new sauce they used in the dish, but I haven’t heard a word of their conversation since my thoughts started spiraling out. I shouldn’t be thinking about Julian at all, let alone about that kiss. The idea that I didn’t push him away because Ilikedit is enough to make my stomach churn.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I take the excuse to check out for a moment. It’s probably Henry or Sebastian at the café asking me to cover a shift for them. Normally, I’d dread that, but I could use the distraction. Hopefully they’ll need me for a nice, long, busy shift tomorrow.

I dig my phone out and check it surreptitiously under the table, but the name on the screen isn’t either of my co-workers. It’s Julian.

My dinner sits like a stone in my stomach. Of course he still has my number. Why wouldn’t he? I should have blocked his ages ago, but after Mom and I moved out here, I kind of forgot about it. We haven’t been in touch in years, so it didn’t cross my mind to bother blocking him. It’s far from my first mistake when it comes to Julian.

Hey, the text says,about yesterday, I want to apologize.

I scoff at the screen, drawing Mom and Aunt Mary’s attention.

“Everything okay?” Mom says.

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