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Extra Dirty Page 16
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“Items are cleaned before they’re sold. I always wash stuff before I wear it anyway, to be on the safe side. And I’ve only gotten bedbugs the one time.”
“Say what now?” Jesse gave him a look tinged with horror, and Cam nearly doubled over laughing.
“No. I’ve never in my life gotten bedbugs—from a thrift store or anywhere else,” Cam said after he’d composed himself. “I did get lice once.” He grimaced. “But that was the kids at school.”
Jesse shuddered. “They are germy, disgusting little things.”
Cam snorted. “I’d believe you meant it if I hadn’t seen you interact with Dylan and Sadie.”
“Guilty as charged. I do like those particular germy, disgusting little things.”
Cam bumped shoulders with him. “So, I shouldn’t call you to come help if my mom needs an emergency babysitter for George and Lily?”
Jesse looked at him askance. “It depends on if you’re willing to throw in some bribery.”
“Hmm.” Cam pretended to be skeptical. “What could I bribe you with?”
Jesse’s low, warm chuckle made Cam’s stomach flip. “Oh, I can think of one or two things.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Seriously, though, I can’t believe I had no idea you had siblings that young.”
“I’m sorry.” Cam licked his lips. He didn’t know how to tell Jesse he worried about getting his heart broken without giving himself away and revealing he was way more emotionally invested than he was supposed to be.
“It’s okay. Tell me more about your siblings now.”
“Well, Arthur and Dan are pretty typical teenagers. They’re both obsessed with video games and driving our parents crazy. But Dan’s also a killer soccer player and a fucking genius with computers. He got an almost full scholarship to Rutgers for computer engineering.”
“That’s impressive.”
“We’re all proud of him. Although, my parents are struggling with him right now. He’s so bright, but he’s kind of checking out of school in this last semester. He’s refusing to turn in his homework, and I had to bribe him with a weekend in the city to get him to buckle down.”
Jesse chuckled. “You know you’re from Jersey when a trip to Brooklyn is a treat.”
“Hey, now, no bashing my home state.” It occurred to Cam he’d never asked Jesse much about his childhood. “Now as for you, I know you grew up in Manhattan.”
“I did. Born and raised.” There was a touch of pride in Jesse’s voice.
“You know,” Cam began, “you gave me shit about not telling you about my family, which is fair, but you don’t talk about your parents much. You talk about Eric and Sara, but not so much your mom and dad. Is that a touchy subject?”
“Not at all. Things were tense sometimes while I grew up and tried to figure what the fuck I was doing, but we get along well now. Believe it or not, I try to keep out of trouble, mostly in deference to them. They’ve come to terms with my sexual orientation and my lack of interest in settling down, and are okay with the way I live my life for the most part. Still, it doesn’t keep my mom from dreaming about weddings. If I told her I’d met someone and planned to propose, she’d be ecstatic.”
“And you have no desire for that?”
“I have no desire for that kind of life. Marriage and monogamy don’t compute for me.”
“Hmm.” The conversation had veered into territory Cam didn’t want to explore at the moment, especially in the middle of a crowded Brooklyn street. He turned the subject back to the Lewises.
“My brother Arthur is the sixteen-year-old. He’s also a pain in the ass. Very bright, too, but in different ways. He’s way into music, so we have a lot in common there.”
“Listening? Performing?”
“Both, but he’s kind of obsessed with the rock orchestra thing.”
“Lindsey Sterling-type music?”
“Yeah, exactly. Two Cellos, that sort of thing. He’s composed some stuff and he’s good.”
“What a frighteningly accomplished clan you have,” Jesse said.
Cam laughed. “Not bad for a blue-collar family from Jersey, right?”
“Not bad for anyone, but sure, it’s easy to achieve great things with unlimited resources. It can’t have been easy for your parents to afford music lessons and instruments and soccer gear and all that.”
“No. But they managed.”
“The twins are George and Lily, right?”
“Yep. George is obsessed with taking things apart and knowing how it all works. He’s older by, like, twenty minutes, but second in command to Lily. He’s a sweet kid and way quieter than his sister. Sweet is not the way I’d describe Lily.”
“She sounds fun.”
Cam chuckled. “She’s something else. She’s a great kid—smart as hell and tough.”
“Well, what do you expect with four brothers?”
“Yeah, I’m sure that contributed. But I think Lily would be tough no matter what. She’s our warrior princess. Obsessed with glitter and all things sparkly, and no doubt destined to take over the world. We all joke that once she’s supreme ruler, we hope she’ll think of us benevolently. Or, at least, make our deaths swift and merciful.”
Jesse’s laugh was loud and genuine. “I’m starting to think I’d like your sister.”
“I suspect you would,” Cam said, his tone dry. “Although, I have a feeling that would be terrifying for the world at large.”
“No doubt.”
Cam chuckled. “I’m familiar with your encouragement of Dylan’s love of practical jokes. I had to have a talk with Carter and Riley about that sometime last year. After Christmas, maybe? Though I was informed his uncle, Max, had been supplying the gag gifts, and Dylan’s bag would be checked every day before school in the future.”
“Poor kid.” Jesse snickered. “Ask Carter about the trick gum Dylan gave to his grandmother.”
“Oh, God. I don’t even want to know.”
“It was epic.”
“Okay, that confirms it. You are not meeting Lily. Ever. She does not need encouragement.”
Jesse grinned. “How are they all with the gay thing?”
Cam shrugged. “Totally fine. My mom seemed marginally disappointed by the idea of no grandkids from me, but she has four other kids to get them from, which softened the blow. And my dad…well, you’d expect a union electrician from Jersey to be all macho and ‘not my son’ about it, but he was very low-key. Well, he’s always low-key,” Cam corrected. “But he kind of nodded and said he supported me, and that was the end of it. My mom switched from asking about girls I had crushes on to asking about boys, and they both welcomed my first boyfriend with open arms.”
“Well done, Lewis family,” Jesse said.
Cam stopped in front of Thrift Kingdom. “We have arrived at our destination.”
Jesse eyed the storefront with a skeptical expression, but Cam held the door open for him, and he preceded Cam inside.
“Welcome to my world.”
“It smells…”
Cam looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to finish.
“Better than I expected.”
Cam snickered. “What did you expect?”
“Mildew and B.O.”
“I never considered you a snob, Jes.”
“Hey, I’m here, aren’t I? And I’m admitting I’m wrong.”
“There is that. Come on. Let’s start out with my favorite section—records.”
“Lead the way.”
Browsing through records together proved enjoyable. Cam found a few gems that he tucked under his arm and steered Jesse toward the clothing. “Now, we have to look at clothes and try them on.”
Jesse gave a long-suffering sigh.
They worked their way through the racks, and he shook his head occasionally, but he proved a good sport when Cam held shirts up against his chest to contemplate them.
“That’s a good color on you,” Cam said about a smoky blue sweater. I
t made Jesse’s eyes even more vibrant than usual.
“Fine, I’ll try it on.”
By the time they’d hit the final racks of men’s clothes, Cam had chosen several shirts and a jacket for Jesse, and a few things for himself.
They stood in a small line for the fitting rooms. When they reached the head and a room opened up, Jesse motioned for Cam to follow. “Come on, we can share.”
“Uh-uh.” Cam pointed to the sign proclaiming no more than six items at a time and one person per room. “I’m afraid not.”
Jesse groaned. “But that was the part I looked forward to.”
“I’ll make it up to you later. Now go. I’ll hop into the next one.”
Jesse disappeared into the open fitting room and a few minutes later, his voice rose over the low hum of noise in the store. “Am I supposed to model this?”
“Obviously,” Cam teased. “What’s the point of taking you here if you don’t get the full experience?”
“Fine, fine.”
Cam, who had been poised with his camera ready, took a shot the moment Jesse stepped through the doorway.
“You’re the worst,” he grumbled, but he closed the distance between them and brushed his lips across Cam’s. “You’re sending that to the speakeasy guys, aren’t you?”
“I hadn’t planned on it before—the photo was for my own personal pleasure. But now that you mention it, I absolutely am.” It still boggled Cam’s mind that he had the personal numbers of some of New York’s elite in his phone, including a state senator.
Jesse looked pained. “It’s a good thing I like you, Cam. I wouldn’t put up with this from just anyone.”
Cam grinned, but he couldn’t formulate a coherent verbal response. He’d been at such a low point last week, worrying he’d get his heart broken. But this was what kept him going—feeling like he mattered to Jesse.
“So, what about the shirt?” Jesse asked.
Cam gave him an assessing glance. “It doesn’t fit very well,” he admitted. “The cut is off somehow.”
“That’s what I thought. Okay, on to the next.”
Cam waved the next person in line forward when another fitting room opened up. Over the course of the next ten minutes, Jesse modeled more shirts and a tweedy blazer for him. None seemed quite right.
Cam frowned at him. “Weird, I thought those would work on you.”
“I have a hard time buying off the rack,” Jesse said. “My proportions make most shirts too short, and if they fit in the shoulders, they’re bulky at the waist.” He smoothed the baggy fabric over his abdomen. “Anything I buy has to be tailored anyway, so I might as well order clothes made to my specifications.”
“I’d say that was a convenient excuse, but I can see what you mean,” Cam admitted.
“It’s because I’m one of a kind.” Jesse winked.
“Go, you egomaniac,” Cam laughed and pushed him toward the dressing room. “If your head will fit in that tiny little box.”
“I have one shirt left,” Jesse said and disappeared through the door. “And see? My ego fits just fine.”
A girl standing near Cam snickered. “You guys are a riot together.”
“Thanks. I think.”
“Oh, no, trust me, it’s a good thing. It’s worth the wait in line.”
“Glad I could help.”
“Stop flirting and tell me how I look.” Cam glanced away from the young woman and saw Jesse standing in front of him in the blue sweater.
“I’m not,” Cam protested. “Flirting with every human in sight is your thing, not mine.”
“Focus, Cameron. How does this look?”
Cam gave him a critical glance. “Great.” Despite Jesse’s protestations he couldn’t do off the rack, the sweater fit him beautifully. The cut showed off his build, and the color made his eyes so blue Cam felt weak in the knees.
“I’m surprised, but it does look pretty good on me.” The hint of reluctant admiration in Jesse’s tone made Cam grin.
“Guess we’re getting it then.”
“What? No. I don’t need it, Cam.”
“Sure you do. I mean, if you’re spending the night with me for the full Brooklyn experience.” Cam held his breath. They hadn’t discussed how the night would end.
Jesse groaned. “Fine. But I draw the line at buying socks and underwear here. I’ll stop somewhere and get new ones.”
“They don’t sell previously worn underwear and socks at Thrift Kingdom, Jes. You don’t need new ones anyway because you can borrow some from me.”
“Am I not allowed to buy new ones? Is that not done in Brooklyn? Or does it go against your rules?”
“Ha ha. When have I ever told you what to do?”
A thoughtful expression crossed Jesse’s face. “Fair enough. You are remarkably undemanding.”
How could I be demanding? Cam wondered. Jesse had all the power. It wasn’t his money or social power but his ability to walk away. Then again, hadn’t he proven he was more interested in Cam than Cam had given him credit for? He wouldn’t be here slumming it if he didn’t care. And he’d seemed hurt earlier after pointing out Cam was the one holding back.
All—well maybe most—of his jokes about the Brooklyn experience today had been for comedic effect. It was fun playing up the disparities in their lives. It seemed to reduce them and make them less of a looming presence.
Cam squeezed Jesse’s upper arm. “Go change and I’ll try on my stuff. Make sure you bring out the clothing that doesn’t work and hang it on the rack there.”
“I have tried on clothing before.”
“At a place that requires you to lift a finger to do anything?”
“Only in cases of extreme emergency.” He turned away, and Cam grinned. “And stop smirking!”
“I wasn’t smirking,” he argued, knowing full well he had been.
They continued to banter through the door while Jesse changed back into his own clothes. They swapped spots a few minutes later, and Cam tried on the first of the clothes he’d picked out.
“You have to model, too,” Jesse called out.
Cam obliged, and by the time he’d made it through all the potential choices, he had two shirts and a pair of trousers for purchase.
“Ready?” he asked after he’d hung up the ones that hadn’t worked out.
“Yep.”
They encountered another line at the register, but Jesse was patient. He chatted with the people in line around them and, of course, charmed them all within the first six seconds. He had a gift, Cam mused.
“I’ve got this,” Cam said when their turn arrived, and Jesse had reached for his wallet.
Jesse’s lips twitched. “After today, I may have to start calling you Big Money.”
The salesgirl finished ringing up their combined purchases. “Your total comes to twenty-three dollars and fifty-eight cents. Will that be cash, debit or credit?”
“Debit,” Cam said.
“Would you like to round up and donate the remainder to children’s cancer research?” she asked.
“Sure,” Cam said. He swiped his card and accepted the charges for twenty-four dollars. The salesgirl handed them a plastic bag with their clothing, and Cam thanked her and headed for the door.
Cam glimpsed Jesse slip a neatly folded bill into the fishbowl beneath the crumpled one-, five- and odd ten-dollar bills and bet he’d donated at least fifty, if not a hundred dollars.
The gesture reinforced everything Cam had observed in Jesse. He was generous, with both his time and money, but understated about it. He treated himself well—and why shouldn’t he?—and gave lavishly to others. Before they’d met, Cam’d held a semi-dim view of people with the kind of wealth and power Jesse possessed. He’d had a few too many encounters with entitled rich kids at clubs and demanding parents at Midtown Academy to think everyone handled privilege well. Jesse and his speakeasy crew were notable exceptions.
Cam had once overheard Jesse and Kyle discussing a charitable foundation and
fundraising campaign the Murtaghs donated to. Kyle had pushed Jesse to accept an award from the foundation, and while Jesse had agreed, he wanted to do it away from the gala that had been proposed. Cam hadn’t heard the whole conversation, but he’d gotten the impression Jesse didn’t like getting attention for that sort of thing. Which was funny because he drew people’s attention with little effort. He basked in that, but he wasn’t an attention whore.
Jesse’s voice pulled Cam from his thoughts. “I don’t want to hijack the plans you had for the rest of the day, but how do you feel about touring the Widow Jane distillery?”
“It’s whiskey, right?” Cam asked.
“Yeah, they primarily make bourbon and rye, but they have a few varietals of rum and chocolate liqueurs as well. They also share space with a fantastic chocolate factory.”
“Whiskey and the like aren’t my favorite, but the rest sounds fun. Any idea what times the tours run?”
Jesse brought out his phone and fiddled with it for a moment. “Hmm, there’s one at four and one at six.”
“Where is it?”
“Red Hook.”
Cam looked at the time on his phone. “We’ll never make it for four p.m. Want to do the six?”
“Sounds good to me. I’d imagine their tours are popular, so what do you think about reserving spots online?”
“Perfect. No point in heading all the way out to Red Hook today if we can’t take the tour.”
Jesse snagged them two spots while Cam contemplated what to do for the next two hours.
“Want to wander toward Brooklyn Heights for a bit? We can stop anywhere along the way that appeals or hop on the subway toward Red Hook.”
“Sounds great.”
* * * *
Cam was tipsy when he let Jesse into his apartment. He’d enjoyed touring the distillery and tasting a number of the products they offered. The rum and chocolate liqueurs were delicious, and on a fairly empty stomach, Cam was feeling them.
“S-o-o-o, this is home.” Hoping for the best, he pushed open the door and waved Jesse inside. To his relief, the jackets and shoes were less of an explosion of clutter than usual. “Not much to see here, but you can leave your shoes, and I’ll give you the quick tour.”