Cam casts me a wary glance. For a moment, it almost looks as if he’s upset, but when I point to his new muscles, he laughs.
“Hey, modeling isn’t for the faint of heart. A lot of dedication goes into this gig.”
I chuckle at his sarcasm.
“Trying real hard to get into the Met, I see.”
Cam sits in his seat next to me, his grey eyes sparkling with excitement. His smile makes me feel better. “What is it with you and your Metropolitan Museum obsession?”
It’s my turn to shrug as I settle into my comfortable seat, pulling out my headphones.
He’s still sitting up straight, almost as if he’s afraid to lean back, so I gently set a hand on his chest and push him back until his head hits the cushion.
“It’s like the pinnacle of art, right?” I say, feigning a terrible French accent. Cam shakes his head, glancing down for just a second where my hand touches his chest. I feel the heat from his chest radiating through his thin, white tee-shirt; the faint thump of his heartbeat against my palm. I know I should remove my hand, but…
The warmth is nice, so I let it sit there for just a second.
It’s only a split second.
But the way his shoulders loosen, the way he chews his lip… the way his heartbeatquickens.
No, there’s no fucking way Mack is right.
Right?
I clear my throat, pulling my hand away as I settle back into my seat and grab my phone, setting it to airplane mode.
Cam bristles in the seat next to me, crossing his arms and looking behind us.
Mack and my brother are across the aisle from us. I look up to catch Mack staring at me.
Suddenly, I feel very hot. Like I’ve been stuffed into a damn oven. I look out my window instead, as the sounds of music fill my ears.
I close my eyes, letting my mind wander, barely awake as the plane takes off.
I wake up halfway through the flight to the overpowering smell of sandalwood and a peaceful silence. The plane is dark, save for the small lights above us and in the aisle.
My neck is stiff as hell.
Blinking my eyes awake, I notice the reason for my stiff neck and lungfuls of that sweet, yet spicy smell is because I’ve fallen asleep on Cam.
There’s also a bit of drool on his shirt, and I feel awkward as hell about that for some reason, even though it’s Cam and has happened a million times before.
It shouldn’t be awkward, considering the guy has seen me at my freaking worst.
I glance up, noticing his eyes are shut. His chest rises and falls with a steady rhythm, and I think he’s asleep too.
My cock twitches in my damn jeans, that feeling of needing to piss prevalent and overbearing.
I adjust my cock as I right myself, careful not to wake Cam in the process.
Somehow, I manage, which is a feat all on its own.
Thanks to the extra leg room in first class, I have no issue scooting past him and making my way to the bathroom.
I do my business quickly, stuffing my cock back into my pants and washing my hands.
Staring at myself in the mirror, I can’t help but feel like something’s different. Something’s… off, though I’m not sure what.
