Cameron
Blake squeezed my hand and I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips, relishing in the tingling feeling of his skin against mine.
I was happy. Truly happy. For the first time in a long time.
Right here, right now.
Genuinely happy.
At first, I had been nervous about Blake bringing me to his house, but now I felt relaxed. Calm.
Blake's sister had led us to a sitting room - one of many in this mansion, apparently - to where his parents were. As soon as we walked into the room, his mother had wrapped me in a hug, squeezing me tightly. She was a strikingly beautiful woman, who was also as strong as an ox. I swear she managed to rearrange my ribs with the way she squashed me in her embrace.
Blake's father looked more like his older brother than his parent. The two of them were so alike in looks, it was almost scary. Rather than pull me into a bone crushing hug, Thornton's hug had been more gentle, but just as enthusiastic. Then he'd insisted on fixing me a drink out of the crystal decanter that had been sitting on the coffee table. I was pretty sure it was whiskey, but I'd been too worried about meeting them to even take a sip from the glass he'd offered.
They'd invited me to sit on one of the comfortable sofas next to the open fireplace and they'd asked me questions about my work, my daily life, what I liked and didn't like, and chatted like I was part of the family. They laughed, smiled and included me.
And it left me feeling ... happy, I guess. There was an unfamiliar emotion in my chest that warmed me up from the inside. I was pretty sure I had never felt this way before. The feeling of being included, part of a group, a family ... it wasn't something I was used to.
It was the first time I'd ever met these people, yet I felt comfortable already around them. Part of me was trying to understand why I was feeling this way so quickly, while the rest of me was silently relieved to finally be included.
Blake had sat to my left the whole time, one arm draped over the back of the sofa behind me, his thigh pressed firmly against mine. He had kept looking at me, making sure I was comfortable whenever someone asked me a question, nudging me and smiling when his sister cracked a joke. He had seemed kind of proud to be showing me to his parents.
And it didn't feel strange at all.
It was almost as if I fit right in with their family. They had treated me like I had always been part of their lives. It was both amazing and a little frightening.
Blake tugged on my hand, snapping me back to the present and I lifted my head to find him smiling at me.
"You okay? You kinda spaced out a bit there." He nudged my shoulder playfully, so I nudged him back, comfortable and confident enough around him to be able to do it.
"Your family is nice," I muttered out loud, then ducked my head as his smile grew impossibly wider at my words. Shit. I hadn't meant to say that out loud. I sounded ridiculous. Desperate. Stupid.
He obviously didn't agree with my thoughts as he leaned in closer, his lips near my ear. "So are you," he breathed, sending a shiver along my spine and a shock through my body.
I had kind of convinced myself that bringing me to meet his family was a sign that Blake liked me, really liked me, although I still wasn't sure why. I was nothing like him and totally out of his league. He could have absolutely anyone he wanted, but he'd chosen me.
Why?
Why me?
What could I possibly offer this guy?
We carried on walking along the hallways inside the mansion. The large windows that lined one wall of the hallways were uncovered and the night time false lighting outside the house shone through the glass, casting soft shadows along the carpeted floors.
Several interior doors were open, showcasing different rooms behind them. I'd seen what I thought was another sitting room. And then one that could have been a library, with the huge number of books lining the floor to ceiling shelves. Another room we passed by looked like a study, with a large wooden desk and straight back chairs. All of the furniture in the house seemed old, yet well made and comfortable.
Along the opposite wall of the hallway were different portraits. Some small, some large. All professionally painted. I pointed to one as we strolled along.
"Who are these people?"
Blake looked at where my finger was pointing and shrugged. "These are paintings of my ancestors. Family members. Friends."
What?
I just stared at him as he pulled me along. He seemed so indifferent, uncaring, about these portraits. Like having oil paintings of your family hanging on the walls was an every occurrence to him.
Well, it was. For him.
It just wasn't for me.
I gazed at them, taking in the people as they posed. There were small, intricate details in each painting, like little animals in the background, and the clothing each person wore was completely different to the next. Men. Women. Children. Some were families. Others were single people. Each one giving a glimpse of what that person was like.
One painting caught my eye.
Oh my god.
"No fucking way." I stopped right next to one particular portrait. Blake stopped and raised his eyes, quickly averting them back to the floor.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath.
But I didn't really hear him. Instead, my eyes were fixed on the picture on the wall in front of me. A picture that I could stare at all night.
It was a painting of the guy standing right next to me, holding my hand. There was no second guessing that the portrait was of Blake. The likeness was too much. Far more than the likeness to his father.
In the picture, he was standing tall, wearing black trousers, what looked like a black shirt buttoned to the top, and he was holding a top hat.
A fucking top hat.
I grinned at that. He was posed against a backdrop of a forest, the green of the leaves contrasting with his black hair and icy blue eyes.
He looked regal. Intelligent. Gorgeous.
My eyes slipped to Blake. The man standing next to me. He was still looking at the floor, scuffing the carpet with his foot and running a hand through his hair. His hold on my hand hadn't lessened so I squeezed his fingers. He cast me a sideways glance and raised a brow.
I nudged his shoulder. "You look cute."
He rolled his eyes. "I look stupid."
I frowned. He looked anything but stupid.
"It was a long time ago." He shrugged. "I keep forgetting it's there."
I chuckled at his clear embarrassment, pretty sure I would feel exactly the same way.
"I see you've found Blake's favourite painting." A voice came from behind me.
I spun around to come face to face with a handsome blonde haired guy. His hands were casually stuffed in the pockets of his jeans and he was grinning while leaning against the opposite wall.
He leaned forward slightly. "Don't let Blake tell you he hates this portrait," he muttered loudly enough for Blake to hear. "It really is his favourite, you know. Loves looking at it."
"Shut the fuck up, Gabe," Blake grumbled, causing the blonde haired guy to laugh. His laughter held an infectious note and I found myself smiling at him.
"Gabriel." He stuck his hand out as he pushed himself off the wall. "It's nice to meet you."
I shook his hand, a little shocked to find it cold. Just like Blake's. And Thornton's. Even his mother's embrace, although it was heartfelt, was cold to the touch.
Why was everyone cold here?
I was hot. Very hot. My hair felt stuck to my forehead and my long sleeved shirt was clinging to my body. There was no air conditioning in this old house and the air was warm and thick.
"Cameron." I smiled at Gabriel. "Nice to meet you."
"Ah, so you're Cameron." He looked me up and down, a warm smile stretching his lips. "Blake's told me all these good things about you." His eyes twinkled, like he was letting me in on a secret while teasing his friend. "Blake won't shut up about you."
"Why don't you shut up?" Blake growled at Gabriel, who guffawed again.
It was clear that the two of them were good friends and I couldn't stop the smile on my face as I watched their interaction.
"Just letting Cameron know what you're like when you don't see him." Gabriel turned his attention back to me and winked. "He's impossible. He mopes around and looks like a lost puppy. We have to drag him out of his room."
Gabriel laughed out loud and dodged Blake's hand as he reached out to grab his friend. Amused, I held on tight to Blake's other hand, pulling him back to me. He didn't resist. Instead, he stopped moving and settled for glaring at his friend.
"Don't you need to be somewhere else?" Blake narrowed his eyes at Gabriel.
Grinning, Gabriel shrugged. "Guess I can leave you alone now I've had my fun." He shifted his eyes to me and tipped his head in my direction. "It was good to see you, Cameron. Hopefully, we'll see a lot more of you around these parts."
"It was good to see you, too."
After smirking once more at his friend, Gabriel turned and walked off in the opposite direction.
I watched him stroll confidently along the hallway. I liked him already.
Blake sighed. "I'm sorry about him. He's just ..." He shrugged as he struggled to find the right word. "He's just ... Gabriel."
"It's okay." I smiled at him. "I like him. He seems like a good guy."
"He's okay." Blake grinned at me and tugged me closer to him. Standing in front of me, he pulled on my hand until my body was pressed against his. He wrapped his free arm around my waist and peered deeply into my eyes. "But he's not as good as another guy I know."
Before I could roll my eyes at his cheesy comment, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss on my lips, causing a tingling sensation in my stomach. My free hand snaked up his arm to rest on his shoulder, feeling the strong muscles flex underneath his shirt.
We had kissed a few times tonight. And each time was better than the last. There was just no way to understand how I felt around Blake. Everything felt new and comfortable at the same time. He wasn't a complete stranger now, yet somehow he felt more than familiar.
A warm feeling spread from my chest as Blake licked my bottom lip, wanting to enter my mouth. Parting my lips, I welcomed in his tongue, sliding my own over it, across it, under it. His arm tightened around my waist, and his hand held mine in a firm, yet comforting grip.
The coolness of his body seeped through the thin material of my shirt, keeping my body from overheating.
Reaching up, I ran my free hand through his dark hair, relishing in the feel of the soft strands between my fingers.
The tingling sensations I felt whenever I kissed Blake were like nothing I'd ever experienced before. Whenever I had admired Tate, I'd never had these types of feelings. Even Evan hadn't stirred these emotions within me, and he was a professional.
Breaking away from my lips, Blake leaned back and smiled warmly. His blue eyes didn't look as icy and his handsome features were soft. He looked almost as if he ... was admiring me.
Me.
A fucked up orphan.
"Do you still want to see my room?" Blake raised his eyebrows, but he didn't look like he was teasing. Rather, he looked ... serious, like he was asking tentatively to see what I would say. Kind of like testing the waters, obviously aware of the possible silent intentions in that simple question.
I bit my lip and noticed his eyes were drawn to the action. Did I want to see his bedroom? What would we ... do in there? I wasn't a virgin, but I was very aware of my scars, my imperfections, my ugliness.
What if Blake saw them and thought they were disgusting? Ugly? What if he was repulsed by them? I wasn't sure my heart could take his rejection. Not now we were so close.
Blowing out a breath, I closed my eyes briefly. What if Blake just wanted to show me his room because I'd mentioned it earlier? What if nothing happened? I could simply be overthinking things ... again.
Damn.
Feeling Blake pull away, I opened my eyes to find him smiling at me, his hand still firmly gripping mine.
"Come on." He tugged at my arm and nodded his head in the opposite direction to where we were facing. "The stairs are this way."
I nodded at him, and let him pull me along. A flutter of anxiety tickled my stomach and I tried to push it down.
Nothing may happen. I could be reading too much into it. People saw other people's bedrooms all the time and they didn't end up in bed together. Just because Blake was about to show me his bedroom didn't mean that would happen to us.
That thought helped to calm the churning in my stomach a little.
But I was very aware of the small part of me that desperately wanted to end up between the sheets with him on his bed.
Fuck.