“Is that for a class?”
I glance up, and he nods toward my sketchbook in my lap. My left hand tightens around my pen, and I fight the instinct to cover the page I’m working on. Mostly because I never let people see my unfinished work—or let anyone see it at all.
“Yes and no,” I answer vaguely. “I have an assignment I can turn it in for, but I was already working on it beforehand.”
I expect that to be the end of it, dropping my attention back to my drawing, but Camden clearly has other plans when he asks another question.
“Art is what you’re going to school for, right?”
“Much to my parents’ dismay,” I mutter bitterly, not even looking up.
“Why’s that?”
Gaze still locked on where my pen meets the paper, I reply, “Well, for one, I’m a Reed and I don’t play hockey. My choice to go to school for art rather than becoming a lawyer or something just adds insult to injury.”
Camden’s quiet for a moment—long enough for me toassume it’s the end of the conversation—before he starts right back up again.
“I think my mom went to art school. Or maybe her degree was in art history? I’m not one hundred percent sure, but she owns an art gallery now.”
This new fact manages to pique my interest, and I glance up from what I’m doing to ask, “Where at?”
“In Montpieler. Vermont,” he clarifies. “My dad, funnily enough, is a lawyer there. They’re divorced—have been since I was really little—but they’ve always been very civil for my and my brother’s sake.”
His mention of a sibling causes me to frown, brows knitting together at the center.
“I would’ve thought you were an only child.”
“Nah, there’s two of us. Marcus is a bit older; super smart and driven, like our parents. Always did well in school, and after college, he went on to do some biotech engineering stuff that I won’t even pretend to understand, but it makes my parents insanely proud.” He pauses, tapping his fingers on this thigh for a second. “Him being so successful definitely makes my shortcomings more noticeable in my parents’ eyes, though. Being the dyslexic son who struggled in nearly every subject in school kinda sucks when he’s off…I don’t know. Curing cancer or some shit.”
I hum, nodding. Little does he realize, I know far more about the shadows cast by an older brother than I wish I did. Which has to be the reason I find myself tapping my pen and uttering a sentence I rarely give life to.
One I hope like hell he doesn’t notice is a projection of my relationship withmybrother.
“I’m sure that must make you resentful of him.”
His shoulder lifts in a shrug. “Not really, no. He’s my brother; I love him, and I want him to get everything he’sworked for. Most days I can prevent myself from playing the comparison game, but moments like this” —he gestures toward the assignment on his laptop screen— “make it hard not to feel like the only talent I have is skating around with blades on my feet. Which, of course, is relatively useless and has a slim chance of taking me anywhere in life.”
“Not slim” I argue, shaking my head. “You heard Louis the other night; there are lots of teams interested in drafting you.”
“Now that I’m dating a Reed.”
There’s a hint of annoyance tainting the statement, and it doesn’t take a biotech engineer to realize he wants his talent and merit to be the reason he’s taken seriously. From the sound of it, he wishes his fake boyfriendwasn’ta Reed.
That’s something I’m not used to.
Usually my last name is the draw for people. Even someone like Louis, who has been like family for years, is ready to “use this relationship”to further his client’s career; something he decided with such quickness and ease, it’s been difficult not to feel a little bitter about it—no matter the validity of said relationship.
But yet again, Camden’s showing the complete opposite intention, and has been every moment since we made this deal. I think it’s one of the only reasons I’ve found myself really rooting for this to work out for him.
“Teams were interested in you before I ever came into the picture. And you’ve got Louis on your side to help make it all happen. Just look at what he’s done for Oakley and Quinton.”
Camden’s jaw remains set despite the truth to my claims, and he shakes his head.
“Maybe, but it isn’t like it was for your brother and Quinton. I’ve got everything to prove and everything to lose if I don’t. I’ve put all my eggs in this bucket with no backup plan if I fail.”
“Then I guess we better make sure failing isn’t a possibility.Which is only gonna happen if you finish that assignment,” I remind him. Choosing not to correct his idiom, I instead point at his computer with my pen. “Now, stop distracting yourself and get back to work.”
His mouth twitches into a smirk, seeing right through my attempt at rerouting his mind back to school. But unfortunately, only ten minutes go by before I feel the heat of his gaze on me once again.
