Page 122 of Please Open Me
Alone. Alone. Alone.
I curled forward, forehead to my knees, nails clawing at my scalp like I could dig the noise out. My stomach lurched. I wanted to scream, or rip out of my skin, anything at all just so long as this feeling stopped.
“Seb?”
The sound sliced through me. My head jerked up.
Cameron stood in the doorway, hand braced on the frame, brows knitted together. I probably looked like hell–slumped on the bathroom floor, hair half-dyed, trembling like a soaked cat in the rain.
But the sight of him silenced everything.
“Hey,” I breathed.
“Hey.” He stepped closer, hand extended.
I grabbed it, not caring if I smeared dye all over Cameron, and he pulled me to my feet.
“Did you, uh… spill your dye?” He nodded at the overturned bowl of azure slop.
“I, uh…” My gaze dropped. “Yeah. How was Mason?”
Cameron scratched his beard, tapping his foot. Hesitating.
“I–” He let out a dry laugh, the kind that hurt. My stomach dropped. He was leaving. Taking the kids. “This is gonna sound bad, and I ain’t forcing you into anything.”
“What is it?” I asked, desperate to sound calm.
“I… I need a distraction,” he admitted, resting his hands on my shoulders. “My mind is loud, and I don’t wanna think for a few minutes.”
My eyes searched his face. Earnest. Needy.
“And I think you need one too.”
“Are you asking for sex?”
His lips twitched–half smirk, half grimace.
“I’m asking for you,” he corrected, voice low, rough. “Whatever that looks like. I just need my baby boy.”
The ache in my chest loosened. My hands still shook, but they fisted in his shirt.
“You really want this?” My voice broke, almost begging.
“I want you.” He dipped close, nose brushing mine. “Don’t make me say it twice.”
My fingers tangled in the curls at his nape as my mouth crashed into his and my back slammed against the wall.
I gasped, and Cameron used the opening to slip his tongue between my teeth. His beard scraped my skin, his grip on my jaw making my pulse thunder.
My head tipped back for just a moment to catch my breath, and he responded by showering my throat in kisses.
“I love you, Sebastian,” he mumbled against my skin.
“I love you more.” The words shook, but I meant them.
Against all odds, I loved Cameron Cole more–more than our fights, more than the pain, more than I loved myself. Not the obsessive love I still carried for Mason. Something purer. Sweeter. The kind that made people do terrifying things, like grow old together.
I shoved my hands up his shirt, grabbing at the solid muscle under soft skin. I clung to him like a drowning man to a life raft. His hips bucked against mine.
