Page 40 of Stray for You

Sometimes I forget how casually inappropriate this place is. Brad has no fear of being overheard asking me about my escapades, and why should he? Even our boss Garret would probably ignore him at worst.

“It’s just a friend,” I say.

“A friend with benefits,” Brad says, wagging his eyebrows.

I know I’m supposed to lean into this, play along. That’s who I am in this place. That’s what I do. That’s why I get sent to Seattle or Nashville or Houston. But today it feels wrong. Cameron isn’t some fling at a conference. He isn’t a fellow sales rep who already knows the score. And the image on my screen isn’t even sexual. I can’t see anything but the tips of his fingers. I might imagine all the places those fingers have gone and could go, but the picture itself is innocent enough. I’m not smiling at a potential conquest. I’m smiling at … at Cam. Cam interacting with me, keeping the silly promise we made, talking to me for no good reason. Crazily, that’s almost as thrilling as him sending me something far more explicit.

Brad cannot know any of this, of course.

“What do you want, asshole?” I say, trying to change the subject. “I do have actual work to do if all you’re going to do is fantasize about my sex life.”

Brad shifts and uncrosses his arms, and I know I’ve struck true. It’s so easy to make straight guys uncomfortable.

“I need to get you up to date on the contract with Vil-Tech,” he says, suddenly all business. “A couple things changed while you were out. We gotta get shit aligned before the next time we meet with them. Have time for a quick chat?”

I turn to my computer to hide my smile at his discomfort. I scan the calendar for an open meeting room, locate one, and swiftly book it.

“Sure,” I say. “Looks like Alpen 3 is open.”

I bundle up my laptop and follow Brad to the meeting room. This Vil-Tech thing is a contract we’ve been working together. They’re big enough to warrant multiple reps to handle the account, though Brad has been taking the lead on all of it. That’s lucky for me because my head and heart really aren’t in it today. When Brad and I set up our laptops in Alpen 3 and start going through what’s changed while I was out, I have to ask him to repeat himself far too many times.

In truth, my mind is on my phone. I’m far, far away from this office building in Manhattan. A piece of me is stuck in that hotel in downtown Seattle. I’m in the entryway where Cam threw me against a wall. I’m in the bed where we slept wrapped around each other. I’m in the tub where I touched him for the last time.

“That sound good?”

Brad interrupts my daydreaming, and I scramble to recover.

“Uh, yeah, for sure, man. Whatever you think,” I say.

Brad heaves a mighty sigh. “I suggested we reply to their proposal with porn. You are really not here today, dude. Something happened to you back in Seattle.”

Something certainly did, and Brad doesn’t even know the half of it.

“It’s nothing,” I say. “Jet lag. Sorry. I’m paying attention now.”

“I’ve never seen someone actually get their hooks in you,” Brad says. “Is the mighty Julian about to fall? Don’t tell me you’re going to become a proper family man all of a sudden.”

An image springs to life in my mind, Cameron and I around a dinner table with our moms. We had that briefly. We were a weird little family for a short time. It seemed like he hated it, but I didn’t. I didn’t hate him being my family. Not at all.

I stuff it down, slapping on the persona I have to wear for work.

“Can a guy be tired once in a while?” I say. “I had a busyweekend.”

I leer at Brad, and he thankfully takes the bait, laughing but not digging deeper now that I’ve finally suggested the version of events he wants to believe. It’s easier to see me as the jet-setting playboy than a guy with someone weighing on his heart. I don’t want people here to glimpse that other version of me. I prefer for them to see me as adventurous, fun-loving, no scruples Julian, a guy with no ties, no connections, no romance in his life.

I’ve always shielded myself this way. When I was in high school, I latched onto Cameron immediately, but it was always a joke. I chose to be an annoyance because it got his attention while keeping me safe, but I’m starting to worry that I caused damage back then that I can’t repair now. I was a scared, stupid kid with no one to rely on but my mother. I didn’t trust anyone else, especially not someone who could crush me as easily as Cameron could.

I force myself to focus on the Vil-Tech account. Brad and I go through the updates from the week when I was out, and I’m pretty sure I sound passably human and intelligible throughout it.

It’s a relief to escape that meeting room, however. I dig for my phone the moment I’m free, urgency batting at my chest as I fumble to find my text chain with Cameron. We’ve exchanged those two photos and a few bland words of conversation, but that isn’t nearly enough. I can feel him slipping away between my fingers, and something has me grasping after him, unwilling to let him go. Maybe it’s that I saw a real side to him last week. The Cameron in that hotel room was a little less spiky and hard than the Cameron I’m used to outside of it. He let me in, even if only a little, and I don’t want to fuck that up by continuing to play at being aloof and detached.

When it comes to him, I’m anything but aloof and detached.

I start typing before I can think better of it, my fingers frantic.

Hey, crazy idea, but what if I came to visit? Not for a work thing. Just to visit. Just us.

I hit send with my heart pounding in my ears and nearly trip over my own desk chair in the process. I’m shaky when I sit back down at my desk and set my phone aside — face down. I can’t bear to look at it while I wait for Cameron to reply. When I was in Seattle, there was a time limit, an expiration date, and I think those boundaries pushed us both out of our comfort zones. It’s less scary to be vulnerable when you’re running out of time.

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