Page 37 of Stray for You

I gather myself before answering Mom. “I didn’t actually see her,” I say. “There wasn’t time. I was downtown for the conference and everything, and I think she lives somewhere north of the city.”

“I see,” Mom says slowly. I only realize my mistake when she continues. “So Cameron came down to see you?”

Sometimes I really wish my mother wasn’t as smart as she is.

“We happened to be in the city at the same time,” I say. “We ran into each other and caught up.”

God, is that ever glossing over things. I was not in that bar where his band played by accident; I asked Henry about it in order to ensure I saw Cameron that night. He had no desire to see me, and I still don’t know why he took me up on my offer of dinner after that.

My mother’s hand lands on my knee, calling me out of my thoughts. “Julian, is everything okay? You can tell me. It’s not going to be an issue because of whatever happened in the past.”

She means her and Cameron’s mom dating. She means that that might be an issue because she suspects Cameron and I did more than catch up.

I look straight into her eyes, eyes as blue as mine. They’re so clear and steady, and I’ve always found strength in her gaze, no matter how hard things were for us at times. Behind her, Dave is carefully looking away, giving us whatever privacy he can without making this even weirder.

Fuck it. She’s my mother and I love her and I’ve never managed to keep anything important from her in my life. And this? Yeah, this feels important.

“Okay, fine,” I say in a rush. “It happened. Yeah. Cameron and I… Some stuff happened between us. I didn’t expect it. I was hoping to see him and maybe catch up or something, but, um, I guess things … went a different way.”

Mom squeezes my knee before sitting back. She’s wearing a playful little hint of a smile that suggests this revelation is not as shocking to her as it should be.

“When are you seeing him again?”

I jerk my head up. I might be in my mid-twenties, but I still manage to flush when my mother hits me out of nowhere with an observation that dredges up every hope and insecurity I’ve beensuppressing this past week.

“I-I don’t know,” I say. “I don’t know if he wants to. Maybe it was a fluke.”

“Does his mother know?” Mom asks.

“No, I doubt it. He was … a little secretive about things.”

She nods. “I see. Well, he never did keep things from Elena. I imagine she’ll know soon enough.”

That casual observation does absolutelynothinghelpful for my quickening pulse. Is his mom knowing a good thing or a bad thing?

“It probably doesn’t matter,” I say, hoping to diffuse this conversation. “I mean, I have my job in Manhattan and he’s working somewhere way north of Seattle. We live so far apart. It was nothing.”

Mom takes my hand in hers, scooting to the edge of the couch so her knees are almost touching mine. Dave busies himself gathering up empty beer bottles and taking them to the kitchen, affording us a moment of privacy.

“Julian,” Mom says, and her voice is soft in that way that makes me want to break down like a little kid crying over a scraped knee. “You shouldn’t let the distance stop you if you really like him.”

I blink at her, my eyes widening. “I don’t… I just…”

Mom chuckles, squeezing my hand. “Did you think we didn’t know? You boys had to be around each other a lot when we were dating and let me tell you, you weren’t exactly subtle.”

“Oh God. Don’t tell me that’s why you broke up.”

“Of course not, but it was something Elena and I were aware of, certainly. Back then it might have been complicated, but now there’s nothing holding you back. Tell him how you feel.”

“I … I don’t think he feels that way about me.”

“There’s only one way you’re going to know for sure,” Mom says, “and don’t you want to know for sure? Don’t you want tohear it from him?”

It’s hard to fathom Cameron ever feeling anything positive toward me, but I nod anyway. I do want to know. Even if all I get is hard, cold rejection, I need to be sure. I need to know there’s absolutely no chance.

Because if there’s even the slightest hope…

Chapter Nineteen

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