“Okay, you’re right, I have absolutely no idea.”
Emory shook his head affectionately and began stroking his thumb over the back of Cameron’s hand, and Cameron got a bit lost again. He really should have been more careful not to drink so much with his low tolerance, but thus far, outside of his own blunders, the evening had gone smoothly.
“So, what about you?” Emory said, pulling Cameron’s attention back up from their joined hands. “A sea creature with no scent glands—or just not on your neck?”
“They’re glands, but not for scent, since it’s hard to scent in the ocean.”
“Ahh, so you reside in the ocean then?” Emory said triumphantly as if he’d just guessed his animal form correctly.
Cameron rolled his eyes at him. “Okay, Sherlock, what am I then?”
“Hmm,” Emory started intently into his eyes. “Are you perhaps also a seahorse?”
Cameron smiled wistfully. “No. Shay, my parents, and I are all different shifters.”
Emory nodded thoughtfully. “Jellyfish?”
“Nope.”
“Dolphin?”
“Ha!” Cameron giggled. “No, but every dolphin I’ve ever known is fun and flirty, so I appreciate it.”
Emory let out a deep belly laugh that made Cameron grin as well. His brain was struggling to keep up with his mouth, but it didn’t necessarily seem like a bad thing. Besides his sister, he hadn’t enjoyed banter like this in ages.
“So, I wasn’t even close?” Emory asked as his thick fingers squeezed Cameron’s thin ones.
“Absolutely not. Should we just tell each other?”
Emory’s expression turned pensive. “How about this. We each get one guess per day, and if we can’t figure it out by New Year’s, we have to tell each other then.”
Cameron hesitated. He knew there were responsible reasons for him to decline the invite… he just couldn’t think of any right now.
“You really do want to hang out on New Year’s Eve? I don’t want to impose, but it would be nice to meet your friends.”
It also might be nice to welcome in a new year with other people, as opposed to over video chat with his parents or Shay.
“I wouldn’t have offered to see you if I didn’t want to, Cameron. I’m very excited to spend the night with you…and possibly the next morning?”
Cameron’s stomach twisted in knots. He half expected his mind to provide helpful images of fish tanks and crime procedural music. Instead, he found he was mostly nervous about the implications of this next step in their relationship.
“A sleepover? Are you sure?” he asked, even though Emory had said he wouldn’t offer if he wasn’t sure.
Emory lifted Cameron’s hand, placing a soft kiss on the back of it. “I’m sure. I like you, Cameron. I like talking to you, spending time with you, and touching you.” He brushed his lips gently across Cameron’s knuckles this time.
Tingles were spreading up his arms, and before they could reach his heart, Cameron tried to beat them back with what logic he was able to muster.
“We haven’t really talked about it, but just because you’re my fated mate, I’m not going to assume this is a sure thing. There are fated mate relationships that fail. People cheat, and lie, and sometimes things don’t turn out the way you hope.”
Emory reared back in surprise.
“I’m not saying I don’t think we’ll work out. I mean—honestly, I am starting to hope that we do,” Cameron said in a rush, and he found the words rang surprisingly true. “I meant I’m not assuming that I have rights to your time or your attention, just because we’re fated mates. I don’t think fate makes us a sure thing. I have to earn your affection.”
Emory’s brows pulled together, and he made a noise deep in his chest. Cameron knew a lot of mammals did this. He added a few to his mental list of guesses.
“I think I always, maybe naively, believed that fated mates were a sure thing—like our own version of a fairy tale, but I guess you’re right. I’ve known fated mate pairs that were miserable together because they took each other for granted. I also know fated mate pairs who mated the night they met and had a really hard time with dating and being together. Thank you for bringing it up.”
Cameron sank against the back of his chair, not having expected Emory to accept this so easily. He knew this was a somewhat unusual opinion about fated mates. As was his next thought, but with the weight of Emory’s hand in his, he pushed forward. “I think I want us to wait to mate until we know each other better. Quite a bit better, actually. I sort of always envisioned waiting to mate until I knew I loved my mate, and they loved me back.”
