Page 84 of Gamebreaker

"Nothing. Forget it."

"Cam."

"It doesn't matter."

We stood there in silence, washing and drying, both of us acutely aware of what she'd almost said. What we were both thinking but not saying.

Our hands met in the soapy water, reaching for the same serving dish at the same time. Our fingers tangled together, slick with soap and warmth and all the pent-up wanting.

Neither of us pulled away.

"Harper," Cam said quietly. "I need you to know that what Henry did to you—that betrayal of trust, that violation of your safe space—I would never do that. I might be scared to be public about my life, but I would never use someone's pain for my own gain. I would never weaponize your trust like that."

"I know."

"And I need you to know that I think about what you deserve. Someone brave enough to be seen with you, someone who won't hide you away like a secret. And it kills me that I can't be that person right now. I want to be that person for you more than anything, but I'm not there yet."

My throat closed. "Cam.”

"You asked if I think about you. I do. Constantly. I think about what it would be like to take you to games as my date instead of as a friend. To post photos of us together. To kiss you in public and not care who sees. I think about being brave enough to deserve you."

"You already deserve me."

"Do I? Because from where I'm standing, I'm just another person who's too scared to give you what you need."

"You're nothing like Henry."

"I'm exactly like him. Choosing self-preservation over the person in front of me. Letting fear make my decisions."

"No." I turned to face her fully, soap and water forgotten. "Henry was selfish. You're scared. I told you, Cam, there's a difference. Henry hurt people intentionally for personal gain. You're protecting yourself the only way you know how. Those aren't the same thing."

"Feels the same."

"It's not." I reached up without thinking, cupped her face with my wet, soapy hand. She leaned into the touch, her eyes closing briefly. "You're allowed to protect yourself, Cam. You're allowed to go at your own pace. You don't owe anyone your coming out story on their timeline."

"Not even you?"

"Especially not me. I don't want you to come out for me. I want you to come out for you, when you're ready, if you're ever ready. And if you're never ready—that's okay too. That's your choice to make."

"But you can't be with someone who's closeted. You said that."

"I did say that. I meant it. I can't go back in the closet for anyone, and I can't hide who I am again. But that's about me and my boundaries. Not about judging you for yours."

Cam's eyes opened, found mine. "You're being very understanding about this."

"Don't sound so surprised. I'm occasionally capable of emotional maturity. It's rare, but it happens. Usually by accident."

She laughed, and the sound made my entire body quiver with pleasure. "There she is."

"Who?"

"The woman who makes me laugh even when I want to be miserable."

"It's a gift. I can't help being hilarious."

"You really are."

"Say it again. I'm recording this for my memoir."