“See what?” I ask, feeling strangely on the spot.
Mack purses his lips. “Austen, I know he’s your friend, but that man doesnotsee you as a friend.”
I shift uncomfortably in my seat as he lets out a breath. It’s quiet for a while, before he says, “Oh, would you look at that? Your one-man fan club has arrived.”
I turn at that moment and I see him. Slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder, dressed in grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt and faded, paint-spattered white Nikes. His dark hair looks wet, like he just showered, his cheeks flushed as if he ran the whole way here.
His stormy grey eyes meet my gaze. His gaze softens, his shoulders loosening just a tad as he tugs on the strap of his duffel, his lips parted as he catches his breath.
“Sorry I’m late,” he says, his voice thick with exhaustion. “Traffic was a bitch.”
Mack’s words reverberate in my head for some reason. Cam holds my gaze, his tongue dipping out to lick his lips.
“Told you,” Mack says with a grunt.
“Yeah, really, uh… cutting it close, there,” I say as Cam takes the open seat next to me.
The thick scent of his shower gel or shampoo and cologne accosts me like a wave. No one greets him.
The most he gets is a wave from Mack, and there is a tension among us that I can’t deny.
When the attendant announces that first class is boarding, it pulls the guys out of their stupor. They slap hands with my brother and each other, making a damn scene in the airport. Old people scowl at us while parents hushing babies shake their heads.
Cam shoots me a knowing look as he nudges my shoulder. “It’s your funeral.”
I look back at the guys, whooping as they line up, then at Cam as we both rise.
“You okay?” he asks, cocking his head to the side. “Or are you so freaked out you’ve forgotten how to people?”
I blink, shoving the strange feeling away. Cam holds my gaze, imploring me with understanding. He slings his duffel over his shoulder.
Could what Mack said be true?
“Yeah, I’m, uh… fine. Just a little nervous,” I say, swallowing harshly as I take my place in line behind my brother.
“You ready for the time of your fucking life, kid?” he asks with a grin.
My brother and I look nothing alike, save for our height. He got all of Dad’s genes. He’s like a spitting image of our father in his twenties.
Me? I take after my mom. We’ve got the same blue eyes and dirty blond hair. The only thing I got from Dad was my height.
I shove off Alex’s condescending kid remark. I’m twenty-one, not eleven.
“You know it,” I say, forcing a smile. I can feel the heat radiating off Cam as we step forward, his warmth and scent soothing my nerves just a fraction.
I don’t think he’ll ever understand how much just his presence makes me feel better. At least with him here, I know I’ll have a chance to be myself.
The line moves forward, Cam’s bag knocking into me like a battering ram as we move and stop, showing our boarding passes and continuing on the plane.
When we board the plane itself, we all sling our bags up into the overhead compartment and take our seats.
As soon as I’ve loaded mine, I make a move to grab Cam’s.
“I got it,” he says, flicking some wet hair out of his eyes. I know better than to fight him, so I let him go, surprised he throws it up there with ease, the motion showcasing some new definition in his arms.
Has he been working out? I wonder. Cam’s never been a fan of the gym, and I can’t imagine art is enough to tone one’s biceps. I’m at the gym every day and I’ve never seen him there…
“Who are you and what have you done with my friend?” I ask as I settle in the seat.
