Page 16 of Stray for You

This night is going great.

I shift tactics.

“Anyway,” I say, “what have you been up to since leaving New Jersey?”

Cameron shrugs. “Living.”

“Come on. We haven’t spoken in years. When was the last time we talked — graduation? You definitely weren’t in a band the last time I saw you. You’re incredible, by the way.”

Cameron’s mouth pulls taut for a moment, but I don’t get the sense that it’s anger. It’s more likely he’s fighting off a smile. How dareIof all people pay him a simple compliment? God, this man is infuriating, yet my eyes don’t leave his lips as he tip toes through a response.

“Okay, fine, sure, I joined a band. I was studying music in college. It’s not that much of a surprise, is it?”

“I guess not, but I thought you might become a teacher or something.”

“I don’t have the temperament for teaching,” he grumbles.

And it’s just sohimthat I can’t stop the laugh that bursts out of my mouth. His scowl deepens, but before he can yell at me, two perfectly cooked Pacific halibuts arrive at our table. His anger widens to surprise as he gapes at the meal.

“I’m told Seattle has some of the best seafood in the country,” I say. “It’s not quite the right season for halibut, but I’m willing to make that sacrifice. Do you like it?”

Cameron shakes his head at his dinner. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anything like this. It’s expensive.”

“Company card,” I remind him, though the truth is that I could treat him to this meal myself even without the company card.

“They let you buy fancy meals for your enemies with company funds?”

“Cam, I’m injured. You aren’t an enemy. You’re my long lostalmost-brother.”

He screws up his face like he wants to yell at me, then glances around the restaurant and apparently thinks better of it.

“Not your brother,” he says, spearing his fork into his fish.

I hide my smirk by cutting into my own meal. The halibut melts the moment it’s in my mouth. The seasoning is delicate and light, allowing the freshness of the fish to shine through. And the wine serves as a perfect complement, adding a dash of sweetness as I sip every few bites. Within moments, even Cameron’s constant complaints have fallen away in the face of this exquisite meal.

“I wish I could take Mom here,” Cameron says, almost to himself. “She loves fish.”

I take my opening. “How is she doing these days? I obviously haven’t seen her at all since college.”

Our moms broke up shortly before graduation, but everyone attended the ceremony, so I had an opportunity to see her there. Cameron looked ready to leap through the aisles and murder me back then, and it seems the mention of his mother has rekindled that desire. He glares up at me, his cutlery frozen.

“She’s fine,” he says curtly.

“Do you two still live together?”

“No.”

“Nearby?”

“Yes.”

“How is she? Doing well and everything?”

“Yes.”

I’m clearly not going to get more than a single syllable at a time, so I let the matter drop. I know Cameron is protective of his mother, but this is above and beyond, even for him. I’d face less resistance questioning the Secret Service about the president. Does it still bother him that our mothers dated for a few years? They were in a serious relationship, but it seemed toend amicably enough. What more does he want?

“What about your band?” I say, attempting to change the subject. “How’d you meet them? When’s your next show?”

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