Page 12 of Fractured Souls
“We’ve got more than enough,” I laugh. “Brownies in the morning it is. Sounds real healthy.”
He shrugs. “They’re just protein brownies. They’re fine.” He screws the cap on the jug of vanilla protein powder. “I um, yeah. Here, try.” He takes one of the cinnamon chips, and I really hate cinnamon, but I try it to make him happy. Cam dips the chip into the salsa he made and gives it to me. In my brain it’s supposedto be savory, but I get a surprise as pineapple and strawberries burst across my tongue. It’s actually good.
Minus the cinnamon.
“Wow. This is great.” A tiny smile splits his lips before he brings his third can to his lips, finishing it. “You should slow down.” Glassy bright eyes lift to mine. “Are you going to tell me what she said?”
He looks back down. I guess not. “I did all this and now I’m not even hungry.”
“Now I know something’s wrong,” I tease, but there’s no teasing lilt to his expression. “Hey.” I tug him to me, pulling him between my legs. I need him to start talking. “Talk to me. Please. This silent shit is unnerving.” Rolling his eyes, he shakes his head. I finish my drink and wait. He sways a bit, because he’s not a drinker and chugging three in the last hour has to be getting to him.
“Do you think I’m immature?” The question is soft, and the pieces start to fall into place. I don’t know what she said to him, but I know she blamed him.
“What she did was wrong,” I say instead. “It’s not your fault.”
“It is my fault!” he snaps, moving away from me. “It’s my fault.”
“No it’s not.” I tug his attention back to me. “Look at me.” He ignores me, looking at the brownies in the tray instead, his thick brows scrunched and mouth pursed with all the bite of a six-week-old puppy. I cup his jaw, pulling his attention back to me. His hands bracket me on either side of my legs. His body fits perfectly between the hollow of my thighs.
It’s intimate, and I try so hard not to picture what this would be like with his hands on my waist instead of mine on his jaw begging him to look at me. “I should’ve been better to her,” he whispers.
“If she didn’t want to be with you, that’s her right. You guys weren’t right for each other and that’s okay. She didn’t have to cheat on you, though. That’s not your fault; that’s her being a shitty person. There’s no excuse for that. She could have left you, and instead she chose to hurt you. You don’t want to be with someone like that anyway. Right?”
His head drops and he stares at the counter. I want nothing more than to pull him to me. To touch him, hug him, comfort him.
There’s this barrier between us now that I didn’t feel before I accidentally touched him this morning. Now I can feel it in my stomach when he kisses me. I can feel it in my lungs when he’s hugging me. I’m not sure what happened, but right now I want it to stop.
I want us to be us again. Maybe it’s just in my head . . . or does he feel it too? Either way, this isn’t the time to dive head first into emotions I’m not allowed to feel. Not when my friend is hurting. “You know I love you, right?” I say quietly, and I hate that he has no idea just how deep that love runs.
His head finally lifts, his butterscotch eyes shining a bit, and I want to take all of his sadness. I would if he’d let me. “Yeah, I know, I just wish someone else would too.”
My heart goes numb.
Those words hit me in the gut, chilling me from the inside out.
Of course he does, though. My love isn’t enough. I know Cam loves me, but he can’t love me in the ways I desperately want him to. That’s not his fault, and as much as it’s slowly flaying me alive, at the end of the day, I want that too. I want whoever he ends up with to know how amazing he is. I want them to laugh at his stupid jokes, and try all his recipes and tell him how good they are, even when they come out bad. I want someone to have anime marathons with him, and kick his ass atMario Kartbecause he never fucking loses and it’s annoying. I want themto play board games but never ever play Monopoly because even though he doesn’t even understand the damn rules he still ends up winning. They’ll hold him when he watches sad movies, and love him when the echoes of his childhood get too much for him.
I want this for him almost as much as I hate the hypothetical person who’s going to be that for him. “Bo?”
“What?” I blink out of my thoughts. I’m ready to break down myself. I want all of that for Cam, but what happens to me? I want that for me a little too. “Sorry. I’m not really hungry. Can I save this all for tomorrow?” I look over all the treats knowing damn well he’ll have them all finished by midmorning.
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
“Do you want some of these?” He holds up the tray of Oreo bites. They do look good.
I laugh. “Are you asking me if I’d like some of your balls, Cam?”
A smile wobbles the hard-pressed line of his lips. “Go ahead, Bo, lick my balls.”
Holy shit, Cam, you have no idea. Ignoring the image my brain desperately wants to conjure, I grab one of them and take a bite. “Okay, these are delicious. How do you do this? This can’t be healthy.”
“It is healthy. You never have to sacrifice good shit for taste. You just have to know what to use. It’s what I tell people at the gym. If you worry too much about not enjoying things you love, you’ll crave them even more. It’s okay to eat the things you love, in moderation. Do it the right way.” He pops one of the balls into his mouth, smiling. “So good. Going to bring some of these to Sara on Monday.”
“Oh, Sara? Should I be jealous?”
He laughs softly, shaking his head. “She’s one of my clients. She just had a baby, and she’s so stressed about getting back down to her pre-baby weight. I’ve tried to slow her down abit, because she shouldn’t be focused on that right now. And she looks incredible, so I don’t know what she’s worried about. She loves chocolate and has this idea that she can’t ever eat it because she’s trying to lose weight. I think she’ll really like these.”
I look over at all the chocolate desserts he’s made. “Did you make these for her?”
