Page 29 of Can I Tell You Something?
I stare out of the window at the view as we climb higher. It’s not like I know everyone in town, but I know some people, and I have no idea how I would explain this if they recognised him.
Oh God, what if someone recognises Cameron here when I’m with him?
If I found him online, it stands to reason that others will have too. He has thousands of followers on his Instagram. Not celebrity levels, but I’m sure he gets spotted plenty.
When we exit onto the slope, I lead him across the plateau, weaving through the crowds towards the next chairlift. It’s a two-seater that will carry us up to a peak where we can take one of several blue runs down into a valley and get some practice in before lunch.
Dropping my skis to the ground, I click my boots into place and Cameron follows as we shuffle into place, letting the chairlift scoop us up. He’s got the technique nailed now, tucking his poles underneath his thigh as he reaches up to help me pull the safety bar down.
“Are you ashamed to be seen with me?” he says, his shoulders slumping forward. He sounds sad, and that’s not what I intended at all.
“No, it’s just…” I twist my body towards him and wish I could see him properly underneath his goggles. “This is so awkward.”
“Because we kissed?”
“Yes,” I admit, even though not one part of me ever wanted those kisses to end. “And because you came here with my brother.”
“So youareashamed of me?”
“No, but what are the chances? I don’t think he’d be thrilled about this.”
“Hmmm, he told me to stay away from you, actually.”
“He said that?” I say, snapping my head towards him.
“I assumed he was just playing the protective big brother role. I didn’t think I’d get here and his sister would beyou. I never thought you’d know who I am.”
“How on earth are we supposed to explain this? I don’t want my brother to know I know about Mac. I mean, we’re close, but we’re notswapping masturbation materialclose.”
“We could tell him it’s an undeniable physical attraction. Which, on my part, is 1000% true.”
Sure, me and who else,my brain helpfully chimes in.
“I’m not some desperate fangirl, and I apologise if I’ve given you that impression. I don’t want to be another notch on your bedpost.”
“Hannah, look at me,” he says, straightening up. “I don’t do this. I don’t hook up with fans, but I was attracted to you before I knew you were aware of my work.”
“What do you mean, you don’t hook up with fans?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know how else to say it. I don’t sleep with listeners.”
“But you said… what aboutThe Convention?” He goes to a conference for voice actors and ends up taking a fan back to his hotel room and whispering all her favourite lines in her ear while he fucks her over the back of a sofa. It’s one of my favourites.
Who am I kidding? The man doesn’t miss. They’re all my favourites. “You talked about sleeping with a fan in that audio.”
“Those audios aren’t real. They’re stories. I make them up. That’s a fantasy lots of my listeners have, and I like to make content that fulfils those desires, but that’s all it is, a fantasy. Most of those scenarios I’ve talked about have only ever happened in my head. And I definitely don’t go to conventions.”
“Oh.” The weight of the conversation shifts, then lifts slightly as his words sink in. I’ve taken everything in his content at face value, fully swept into his filthy world. It’s never occurred to me it wasn’t all based on reality, but what he’s saying now is the truth. He doesn’t sleep with listeners, and this thing between us is crumbling fast.
“You really don’t sleep with fans?”
“I won’t lie to you. I have in the past, a couple of times, but it wasn’t good. They think they know me based on what they’ve heard, or they want me to do things a certain way. It’s a weird dynamic. Honestly, I felt pretty used, so I made a rule not to get involved with listeners again. A rule you’ve got me dying to break.”
“I’m sorry, that’s awful. And I’m sorry for the times I’ve behaved inappropriately too. Some of those messages I sent you were really not OK. I was not in my right mind.”
“You’re off the hook,” he says, but my actions dwell in my mind. I’d never be so bold to approach him in public, but I’ve said some pretty outrageous things to his veil of online anonymity online. Am I really any better than those women? And if he’s telling me the truth, then who is the man behind the voice, the one sitting next to me right now? I barely know him at all.
“Don’t go quiet on me,” he says, pulling my attention back to him. “What are you thinking?”
