Page 36 of My Brother’s Best Friend

“What the fuck?”

“Kids can be cruel. Especially with the right ringleader.” Cam smiled bitterly. “When I told my dad, he just said to toughen up. When I told my mom, she fed me nothing but grapefruit and cottage cheese for three months.”

“What the fuck?”

“She was dealing with her own stuff,” he said with a shrug. “Especially after my dad left. I think I reminded her of him. So she took it out on me.”

“That’s not an excuse—”

“No, I know it’s not. But I’m trying to explain why I—why I’m like this. The thing is, when you’re my size, you’re either supposed to be the class clown, the life of the party, or you’re supposed to be huge and silent and intimidating. But no matter what, you’re not supposed to be sensitive. You’re not supposed to care what other people think of you. And I’ve never been able to figure out how to do that. How to be either of those guys.”

He made a face. “The best I could do, I thought, was to just remove myself from social situations completely. People can’t make fun of you if they can’t see you. But now it’s like nobody sees me at all.”

I wanted to hug him. I’d known he was shy, but I’d never known how hard it was for him, growing up. I’d always found Cam comforting. Maybe it had a little to do with his body, but it was mostly his personality. Something inherently him. Around Cam, I felt safe.

And, well, turned on. But that part, it probably wasn’t a good idea to tell him. The point was to make him feel more comfortable, not less.

“I see you,” I told him.

“Well, obviously, I didn’t mean you you,” he said quickly. “Of course you do, I’m your brother’s friend. How could you not?” He looked away. “And I’ve been working out recently, too, so I know I’m not hideous-looking anymore. But I’m just trying to explain—”

“No, Cam, listen.” I put my hand on his arm and waited until he turned towards me again. “First of all, you were never hideous-looking, so you can just shut up about that. But secondly, forget working out. Forget my brother. Forget anything that you think makes me not count. I see you. That’s all I’m saying, okay? I see you.”

Cam swallowed.

Looked away.

Looked back.

I just stared at him, willing him to hear me. I wasn’t even sure what I was trying to say, exactly. But I needed him to hear it, regardless.

His gaze flicked down to my fingertips, resting on his wrist. I pulled them away and stood up, my chair scraping against the ground.

“I’ll, uh—I’ll go see if your grandmother needs any help with that cake.”

If Cam thought it was weird that I was volunteering to help his grandmother, well, it wasn’t anywhere near the top of the list of other weird things I’d done in the past thirty-six hours, so I wasn’t going to worry about it.

When I stepped inside, Doris and Arthur were near the kitchen sink, Doris fiddling with the taps while Arthur peered into the cabinet underneath it.

“What do you think, dear?” Doris asked Arthur.

“I think our HOA fees are too high for this sink to break twice in one month,” Arthur said. “What are we paying them for?”

“I’m sure they’re doing their best,” Doris replied.

“I don’t want their best. I want my sink to work.”

“Everything okay in here?”

I jumped at the sound of Cam’s voice and looked over my shoulder to see him right behind me.

“Damn faucet’s leaking again,” Arthur barked. “Had the same problem two weeks ago. The kid they sent to fix it spent more time on his phone than he did on the sink. Probably used chewing gum to fix it.”

“Maybe Jordan can take a look at it,” Cam said.

I looked at him in confusion, but he just smiled. “Like you did at the bar last night. Didn’t you say they called you for a plumbing issue?”

“Oh, really?” Doris clapped her hands. “That would be just wonderful. Jordan, sweetheart, if you can get this thing to stop leaking, I will double your fee. Triple it, even.”