Emory forced himself to do his own scan of the cafe. He tried to name one item in every color of the rainbow to distract himself—and, more importantly, his lion—from going full alpha male. His lion wanted to hunt this man down and instill a little of the fear he saw in Cameron’s eyes.
Emory waited until his pulse had returned to normal before looking back at Cameron. To his dismay, Cameron’s demeanor had shifted. His shoulders had collapsed inward, and he was leaning as far away as he could while still remaining on his chair. They were still holding hands, but Cameron’s hand was limp in his. This brought Emory’s anger and his lion to a halt.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, honey,” Emory said, keeping his voice just above a whisper.
Cameron glanced up at him and then away. “Yeah, no, it wasn’t great, but we don’t have to talk about it. Sorry for bringing the mood down.”
Emory’s lion yowled, and Emory floundered for something to say.
“When we were kids, Ronan and I got trapped in a dumpster.”
Cameron’s fingers flexed, and he slowly looked up at Emory with a raised eyebrow.
It was a ridiculous story. Emory had been trying to rescue a kitten, but the kitten had jumped right out as soon as they fell into the stinky box, and the lid had slammed closed on top of them. It had taken almost two hours for someone to comefind them, and in that time, Emory’s lion had managed to break several nails trying to claw open the lid. When their rescuers had lifted them out of the dumpster, the first thing Emory had done was shift back and complain about breaking his nails. Ronan had never let him live it down.
By the end of the story, Cameron’s shoulders had relaxed, and so Emory launched into a few of his own dating disasters from his early twenties, including a broken carriage ride and a rock-climbing trip that resulted in the man he’d been on the date with discovering he was deathly afraid of heights. Cameron finally settled back into his seat and told his own story about ending up in an alley just to avoid being hit on.
“Did you want to use up your guess for today?” Emory asked as they stood on the sidewalk waiting for Cameron’s bus.
Cameron had once again refused the offer of a ride, but this time Emory had looked up bus schedules, and he knew they had a solid five minutes left before the bus arrived.
“Moose,” Cameron said with surprising confidence.
“No,” Emory said, trying to contain his laughter. “I’m not a moose.”
Emory thought of the burly moose shifter who had the misfortune of being stuck with him in Anchorage on Fall Harvest. He was a very good-looking man, with shoulders broad enough that he could probably carry Emory on them.
He decided to take the guess as a compliment.
“Are you a beta fish?” Emory asked.
Cameron’s face scrunched up in outrage. “No, I am definitely not a fish you win at a carnival.”
Emory loved watching the two freckles above Cameron’s lips twitch as he grimaced and disappear when he smiled.
Whenever they had their first kiss, which Emory was praying would be on New Year’s Eve, those freckles were the first thing he wanted to kiss. He wanted to know if his skin tasted as goodas he smelled, and if his mouth was as warm as his hand was in Emory’s.
“We only have six more guesses until New Year’s,” Cameron said, and Emory stopped staring at his lips.
“I have confidence in us,” he said, and Cameron scoffed, but he leaned against Emory’s arm.
Emory’s lion picked up on the sound of the bus before Emory did. This time, he initiated the hug, releasing Cameron’s hand so he could pull him tightly against his chest.
Cameron seemed to tense at any initial contact, but each time they touched, whether it be their hands, their sides, or in a hug, he melted into Emory faster and faster. It took him around three seconds to melt into the hug, and when he did, it was so sweet it made the roots of Emory’s teeth ache.
He could hold his omega in his arms for the rest of his life and still not get enough.
Unfortunately, it had to carry him all the way to New Year’s Eve, which was a long seven days, especially as Cameron returned to his somewhat distant texting. Emory did his best to keep being open and personal over text, but it was tough. They connected so much better in person.
Finally, New Year’s Eve arrived, and Emory found himself standing in the lobby of his building, fidgeting with the cuffs of his dress shirt and trying not to check his phone for the hundredth time. He had once again offered Cameron a ride, but he’d declined, stating, “It seems a bit ridiculous for you to leaveyour placeto come get me and bring me back toyour place.”
It wasn’t technically his place, or at least the party wasn’t at his place. He lived three floors above Christopher. While that should make a sleepover simple, Cameron hadn’t mentioned staying the night since their dinner, so neither had Emory.
“If I may, sir,” the front desk clerk said, tipping his head towards Emory’s hands, which were still fidgeting on his sleeve.“I have known you for a long time. I think anyone would be lucky to ring in the new year with you.”
Emory dropped his hands to his sides and smiled at the older man. “Thank you, Jefferson. That means a lot. I think I might be the lucky one, but I suppose any of us who are able to find our fated mates are quite lucky.”
Jefferson nodded adamantly.
