Page 2 of Perfect Matcha
“I wear my regular clothes.” Camden had recently picked up weekend hours at First-Rate Finishes, a local adult novelty boutique, because the owner, Hawke, was a gem who liked helping out his friends. “You’d know if you ever visited me there.”
Between the two jobs, Camden was finally earning enough for rentandto make a dent in his useless student loans.
A distinctly rosy tint spread up Theo’s angular cheekbones, making the spray of freckles on his nose more pronounced. Camden ate up the sight like a piece of cake. He loved the way Theo looked. Loved his dark, messy curls and silvery-blue eyes. Loved his hipster, wire-rimmed glasses and his earnest smile. Theo’s face had always been precious to Camden, but he could hardly think straight when Theo blushed.
“If I want to see you in ratty sweatpants and an ancient Laurelsburg U shirt, I can just show up at your place any old time.”
Camden laughed and somehow resisted the urge to reach across the table and ruffle Theo’s hair again. Barely. “So, how’s your week going?”
Theo sighed theatrically and took a huge gulp of his tea. “Horribly.”
“Uh-oh. Big drama in the bioinformatics world again?” Camden didn’t quite understand Theo’s data-science job but enjoyed listening to him talk all smart and nerdy about it.
“Yeah, actually. You would not believe what happened at our last team-building event. But that’s not the horrible thing. I got assigned a boring last-minute project with a ridiculous deadline. Plus, this awful weather means I can’t ride my bike, so I’m stuck driving on icy roads or taking the bus.” He grabbed Camden’s hot chocolate and tasted it. “Oh, that’s yummy. Switch.”
Camden allowed Theo to commandeer his drink but caught his wrist as Theo tried to push his tea across the table. Theo would want the rest of his own drink once the hot chocolate was gone.
“What else?” Camden asked. Bad things came in threes.
Theo stared down at where Camden still had a hold on him. “I got the wedding invite.”
Camden tensed, guilt hitting him in a wave. He should have been able to prepare Theo for that, protect him. Protecting Theo, being there for him through thick and thin, had always been Camden’s job.
Memories flooded his brain.
The three of them as children—Camden, Theo, and Freddie—running up a hill in their Halloween costumes, plastic pumpkins full of cheap candy in their hands. Theo tripping over his hem and Camden catching him.
As teenagers, hiding in the woods with pot and wine coolers Freddie had stolen from his mom, confessing their deepest, most private secrets. Camden assuring Theo it was okay to want to kiss boys.
As college freshmen, together at a Pride mixer, Freddie’s eyes trained on Theo as he moved through the crowd.
Then, after Camden had dropped out junior year, Theo calling him late at night, drunk and complaining about Freddie’s boyfriend.
At brunch years later, when Theo got up to go to the restroom and Freddie leaned over to admit he was going to do it; he was going to tell Theo how he felt.
Seeing Freddie and Theo kiss for the first time during a dinner party.
Camden realizing over canapes that he’d missed his chance, that he’d waited too long, thinking he’d have all the time in the world once he’d grown up a little.
Theo showing up at Camden’s apartment the week of his dissertation defense absolutely wrecked because Freddie had left him, their friendship not strong enough to save their love.
Last year, Freddie introducing Camden to his new fiancé and asking Camden to be a groomsman.
Years and years and years of history. From inseparable to broken, unable to be in a room together.
Last Camden had heard, Freddie had been on the fence about inviting Theo to the wedding at all.
Camden squeezed Theo’s wrist, then let it go. “That’s … shitty.”
Theo finished Camden’s hot chocolate in one long drink. “Don’t humor me. I’m just in my feelings. And I’m happy for him. He deserves a great partner and a happy marriage.” He nudged his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose.
“You’re allowed to have feelings about it, Theo.”
Theo smiled weakly. “Not sure why it’s put me in such a weird mood. We broke up five years ago.”
“You were together for three. That’s a long time.”
Three years, two months, and ten days. Not that Camden had kept track or anything.
