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  Jesse set his discarded shoes neatly beside Cam’s before following him down the hallway.

  “I dig the raw loft vibe,” he said. They’d stopped in the open living and kitchen area, and he drew closer to the floor-to-ceiling windows. “And, damn, that’s a nice view.” Sunset was approaching, and the low, warm light lit up the city.

  “Starting to see the appeal of living with four roommates?”

  Jesse shot him a grin over his shoulder. Cam’s heart skipped a beat at the image of his lean, tight body silhouetted against the darkening sky. He looked both out of place and at home in Cam’s apartment.

  Cam closed the distance between them and leaned his right shoulder into Jesse’s left. He rested his chin on Jesse’s shoulder, and they stood there in silence for a moment.

  “The distillery tour was fun. I’m glad we went,” Cam said.

  “Me too.”

  “I’m even rethinking my stance on non-clear liquors.” He straightened, and Jesse faced him with a laugh.

  “Kyle will be delighted to hear that.”

  “We should have invited him.” Cam had considered inviting Kyle earlier but dismissed the idea without mentioning it. He’d selfishly wanted Jesse to himself today.

  “Oh, he’s been. Many times. Kyle’s a regular with all the local distilleries. If you want a guided, guided tour, he’s your man.”

  “Good to know.”

  “Don’t hesitate to hang out with Kyle outside of the club or without me.”

  Cam contemplated his words with a furrowed brow. “That’s the second time you’ve said that. Are you trying to push the two of us together?” The alcohol made his tongue looser than normal.

  Jesse looked startled. “No. I know you guys get along well, and I like my friends to have a good time together.”

  “Fair enough,” Cam said. “Sorry.”

  Jesse made a humming sound. “Why are you so quiet, Cam? What’s up? You’ve acted a little off at times in the last couple of weeks since the attempt at the threesome happened.” His tone was soft and non-judgmental, but Cam still felt guilty. “Are you sure everything’s okay with you?”

  “I’m okay,” he reassured Jesse.

  “I didn’t mean to push you to let me into your life, but I realized things seemed…” Jesse appeared to search for words. “Unbalanced. But if I pushed too hard, I’m sorry.”

  “No, no, it’s not that. I’ve had a great time today.” Cam wet his lips. “The conversation this morning made me think about a lot of things. And, frankly, I’m feeling like a bit of an asshole.”

  Jesse furrowed his brow. “In what way?”

  “I’ve been holding you at arm’s length,” he admitted. He’d tried so hard to keep from getting hurt that Cam hadn’t let Jesse in. It was basic self-preservation but unfair. There was being realistic, and there was not giving him a chance.

  Jesse’s frown deepened. “I’m still not sure what you mean.”

  “I’ve been afraid of getting hurt when you get bored and decide it’s time to move on, that I’ve kept you at a distance.”

  Jesse brushed his thumb across Cam’s cheek. “I’d never intentionally hurt you, Cam.”

  “I know.” He swallowed hard. God, should they be having this conversation while he was under the influence? He might blurt out a lot of things he didn’t intend. “But you’re who you are, and I’m worlds away. I don’t mean the money or the job or even where we live. I mean… I don’t know.” He bit his lip. “Maybe I wanted to protect myself.

  “But maybe it’s not fair,” Cam mused. “What’s the point of getting close to someone if you don’t let them see who you are?”

  “It’s been an honor to see what you are comfortable sharing. And whatever else you want to show me in the future. But no pressure from me, I promise.”

  “Then why don’t I finish showing you the rest of the place?” Cam asked. “We can have dinner. You can meet whichever of my roommates are home and see what my life is like. Then spend the night. If you want.”

  “I’d like that,” Jesse said with a smile.

  Cam took a deep breath and acknowledged Jesse would break his heart. Cam would let it happen. He’d be realistic about the inevitable outcome. He’d do it with full knowledge of how awful it would be once it was over. But it was either that or let Jesse go. Go big or go home, he thought.

  * * * *

  “This is rather charming,” Jesse said after they’d finished the tour, ending with Cam’s bedroom. There was barely room for the two of them to stand with the door shut. “I mean, the amount of space in the bedrooms is criminally small, and I don’t want to think about sharing a bathroom, but the loft has great bones.”

  “Thanks.” Cam smiled at him. “True loft spaces are getting more and more rare. All of the great ones are getting gentrified by hipsters and turned into these horrible generic luxury lofts.”

  Jesse snorted. “First of all, your banjo in the living room declares your hipster status. Second, I live in a luxury loft. Third, I had no idea you had such strong feelings about urban architecture.”

  Cam’s answering look was sheepish. “Your loft may be luxurious, but it has character. There’s nothing generic about it. My strong feelings about urban architecture are because I like atmosphere. And don’t badmouth my banjo, or I’ll have to kill you.”

  “I don’t think I could handle the lack of space.” Jesse’s gaze drifted skyward to the gap between the top of the bedroom walls and ceiling. “Or the lack of privacy. How do you fuck here?”

  “Well, I don’t, often,” Cam admitted. “Or I’m just very quiet.” He dropped back onto the bed, and Jesse grinned down at him.

  “Tonight should be interesting then.”

  “Mm-hm,” Cam agreed, shifting on the bed. A part of him looked forward to it. Hot, stealthy sex and the possibility of being overheard sent a thrill through him. “It’ll be fun.”

  Jesse’s expression turned lascivious. “Oh, Cam, you do realize that’s a challenge, right?”

  “What is?” Cam licked his lips.

  Jesse knelt on the bed between his legs and knee-walked until he hovered over Cam. “Making you moan.” He pressed his lips to Cam’s throat and licked a path up toward his ear. “Making you scream when you’re trying hard to be silent.”

  Jesse bit his neck, and Cam’s whimper became a yelp. He grabbed Jesse’s hips and pulled him down on top of him. “I think we’re alone right now,” he said, his voice going husky. “You could fuck me now.” And later, he thought.

  “You’re not actually here alone,” Louise called out from the bedroom next to his. “Just so you know. But your guest sounds pretty hot, Cam, so you can keep going if you want.”

  “Damn it,” Cam muttered. Jesse landed on top of him, his body shaking with laughter. “Oof.”

  “Thanks, Cam’s roommate,” Jesse called back. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “It’s Louise.”

  “Nice to meet you, Louise. I’m Jesse.”

  “Can I keep calling you Mr. Hot Voice instead?” she yelled.

  “Yes, you may!”

  “Oh, Christ. I hate you both,” Cam muttered.

  Jesse managed to stop laughing long enough to kiss Cam’s neck. “I take it that’s a no, then? We’re not having sex right now?”

  “Correct.” Cam gently pushed Jesse off him. It was one thing to fool around while everyone else slept and try to be quiet. But he didn’t want to put on a show for Louise.

  “So, what are we going to do?”

  “I vote we see if my roommates have had dinner, order a shitload of Thai food and spend an evening drinking with whoever is home.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Jesse drew him in for a lingering kiss before he whispered in Cam’s ear, “There’s always tonight.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Someone was using a buzzsaw. No. That wasn’t right. Someone was snoring, loudly enough to peel paint.

  Jesse checked his watch. Six-thirty a.m. This is why I l
ive alone, he thought with an internal sigh. He blinked at the concrete ceiling high above him and felt a mixture of exasperation at being woken and pity for the snorer’s sinuses—noises like that couldn’t be healthy.

  Turning his head, he stared at Cam, who lay sprawled on his stomach with his face smashed into his pillow, sleeping like the dead. Clearly, he’d become immune to the snoring and the host of other noises Jesse now heard echoing through the loft—someone else snoring more softly, a faucet dripping, pipes banging, a whirring portable fan, perhaps.

  “Fuck a duck,” he murmured. He sat up, mindful of Cam beside him. He needn’t have bothered, though, because Cam didn’t even twitch.

  Jesse smirked. Maybe the drinks he’d mixed the night before were the reason he had his very own life-sized Comatose Cam action figure this morning. Said cocktails were to blame for the slight pain knocking around between his temples, and they’d definitely contributed to the overall hilarity of their evening.

  They’d thrown an impromptu party after Cam introduced Jesse around to the horde he came to think of as the DUMBO babes. They called for the takeout Cam promised, and Jesse secretly placed a booze order with Minibar. Cheers erupted when both deliveries arrived at the same time, and Cam’s smile warmed Jesse from head to toe. From there, things had gone pretty much as he’d expected, including Cam organizing an aptly named Drunken Noodle Slurping Contest that went straight to sloppy and very giggly hell.

  Stifling a yawn, Jesse climbed out of bed. He stretched languorously, relishing the pleasant ache in his muscles, but stopped short after catching sight of himself in the mirror on the back of Cam’s door. He stepped closer, staring in the dim light, and his mouth fell open a bit. Half a dozen purple hickeys marked his skin.

  Jesse ran a hand over his chest. “Holy shit,” he whispered to himself. Cam snorted loudly in his sleep then and made Jesse jump. He clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter.

  Was this real life? Had he really woken up, hungover and in a borough not his own? Surrounded by kids who were at least ten years younger than him? With fucking hickeys on his chest, for Christ’s sake?

  Jesse went to the old chair in the corner where he’d draped his shirt and trousers, in the process stepping over Cam’s clothes, which were strewn over the floor. Once dressed, he grabbed a paper bag from the top of Cam’s dresser and quietly let himself out into the large, open area of the loft. He picked his way along the floor, grimacing at the sensation of raw concrete and crumbs on his bare feet. Served him right for not finding his goddamned socks.

  Once in the bathroom, he eyed the shower for a long moment before he decided against using it. Somehow, in the cold light of day without a drink in one hand, he understood much more clearly how many people used these facilities. He washed his face and hands at the sink, all the while fighting a strong sense of squeamishness. He finger-combed his hair and felt immensely thankful he’d bought a toothbrush and travel-sized toothpaste after leaving the thrift shop.

  “This is why I love living alone,” he muttered.

  Or maybe you’re too old for this shit, a small, sly voice in his head told him. Jesse frowned. He hated that voice during moments like this because it sounded way too much like Will Martin, always the last person to cut Jesse slack for anything. It wasn’t like the voice was wrong, either. Maybe the problem wasn’t Cam and his slovenly roommates, but Jesse and his money, expectations and, yes, age.

  Jesse found the loft quieter when he emerged from the bathroom, either because the snorer had rolled over or because someone had smothered them with a pillow. He went to the kitchen, intent on a cup of coffee, and paused when he saw a petite gray and white striped cat sitting in the middle of the floor.

  Funny—he didn’t remember seeing the animal the night before. Then again, the combined noise of the DUMBO babes would have sent any animal into hiding. Jesse cocked his head at the cat and grinned at the way it mirrored his movements.

  “Hey, you,” he said in a low voice. He stepped forward and squatted while the cat uttered a tiny meow, and he ran a hand over its head. While small, the cat appeared clean and well fed. It closed its eyes and leaned into his touch and uttered a low noise when he scritched behind its ears.

  “Buy you a cup of coffee?” he offered. “Or maybe you’re more a milk type of feline, hm?”

  When he stood, the cat’s eyes popped open again, and it trotted beside Jesse as he crossed the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator while the cat wound itself around his ankles. He pawed through the leftover takeout boxes looking for a container of mildly spiced khao pad, and the cat meowed again.

  “I’ll bet you like fried rice, huh?” he asked the cat. “Ooh, yeah. Lots of shrimp and chicken and pieces of egg.” He hummed for effect and carried the box to the counter beside the sink, his furry new friend at his heels.

  Jesse pulled a saucer and small bowl from the strainer, then reached over the small pile of unwashed dishes and turned on the faucet. He scooped several pieces of meat out of the rice box and quickly rinsed each under the stream of water while the cat rubbed against his shins. It issued a stream of complaining noises as Jesse placed the pieces on the saucer and was nearly frantic by the time he placed the plate and water bowl on the floor. Chewing sounds filled the air, and Jesse turned back to the task of coffee making with a smile.

  An hour passed before Jesse heard stirring in the loft. By then, the sun had risen, and he’d started his third cup of coffee. He’d seated himself in a chair by one of the big windows, his feet up on a second chair while the cat—which he’d confirmed was female—purred in his lap. Ten or so minutes after the first signs of life, bare feet padded closer, and he glanced up when Cam ambled in.

  Cam was clad only in sweatpants and sporting a spectacular case of bedhead, his thick red hair standing almost entirely up on end. Though his eyes were still half-closed, his expression brightened after he spied Jesse, and he made his way over. Jesse held out his coffee cup, and Cam took it and lifted it to his lips without hesitation. He sighed after he’d swallowed a mouthful.

  “Good?” Jesse asked.

  Cam lowered the cup and nodded. “Fucking delicious.” He stared at its contents. “Did you make this with coffee pods?”

  “The only coffee pods I saw are hazelnut flavored. So, no.” Jesse wrinkled his nose. “I did find an espresso pot and a can of Cafe Bustelo in the freezer, however. Please, don’t tell me how old the can is,” he added hastily.

  Cam grinned. “You’re in luck. Myron’s the one who uses the pot, and he goes through a can every couple of weeks.”

  “Oh, good.” Jesse made zero effort to hide his relief, and Cam patted his head. “I mixed the espresso with hot water for Caffe Americano, and there’s still a couple of shots left.”

  Cam glanced at the pot on the stove. “You want me to fix you another cup?”

  “No thanks.” Jesse ran his fingers over the cat’s somnolent body. “Two and a half cups are enough.”

  Cam furrowed his brows. “How long have you been up?”

  “Long enough.”

  “Couldn’t sleep?”

  “There was snoring,” Jesse replied. “And water dripping, pipes banging, a partridge in a pear tree, and, no, I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Gah, that sucks.” Cam leaned down and pressed a kiss against Jesse’s lips. “I forget how noisy this place must sound to the uninitiated.” The tenderness in his expression sent a shiver of delight through Jesse. “Especially someone who lives alone.”

  “One person’s noises don’t bother me,” Jesse mused. “Six people, however…”

  “Yeah, that’s a whole other beast. It took me a while to get used to it, too, and they still wake me up on occasion.” Cam straightened up and moved toward the stove with the cup. “I used to sleep with earplugs in, but I don’t need to anymore.”

  Jesse gave him a sly smile. “I’ll bet. Four cocktails on top of whiskey probably helps, too.”

  “Mmm, well, yes.” Cam snickered. “
What the hell were you making last night anyway?”

  “Oh, you mean the drinks you asked me about twice and told me were ‘fucking delicious’?” Jesse made wide eyes at Cam, who pursed his lips together against obvious amusement. “Kyle makes them to go with Asian food. Bourbon, gin, citrus juice and ginger beer. I’m not sure he ever named it but I’m thinking of calling it DUMBO Juice.”

  Cam tipped his head back and laughed. “Please tell me you’ll add it to Under’s menu,” he urged once he’d calmed down.

  “With your picture right fucking next to it, Red,” Jesse promised. “Oh, before I forget, David messaged. He’s doing some fundraising with Carter at Corp Equality next Friday, so he and Will are staying over in the city. They want to go out on Friday night. You wanna come?”

  “Can’t. I’m spinning Friday and Saturday.” Cam went quiet for a moment and poured coffee. “You guys could come by Ember,” he suggested. “Carter mentioned you’ve been pestering him to check it out with you.”

  “Did he actually use the word ‘pester’?” Jesse paused as the cat stretched and uttered a curse when it sank its claws through his trousers and into the meat of his thigh. “Ow-w-w. God. Why are cats such fickle motherfuckers?” He rubbed the fingers of one hand under the cat’s chin, and it cuddled in closer again.

  “I dunno.” Cam rubbed his hand over his hair. “I meant to ask—where’d the cat come from?”

  Jesse stared. “Isn’t it yours?”

  Cam raised his brows. “No. We don’t have a cat, Jes. Or didn’t when I left yesterday morning. I wondered if maybe you ordered it along with the booze.”

  “Ha ha.” The irritation that surged up inside Jesse surprised him, but he didn’t need yet another reminder of the size of his fucking bankroll. “Pretty sure that wouldn’t be legal, even for a big money guy like me.”

  “Oh, jeez.” Cam clucked his tongue. “I was kidding, dude. Don’t be salty.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Jesse turned his frown on the cat in his lap and met its sleepy green gaze. “So, who the fuck are you?”