Emory wanted to sink into the floor, but he forced himself to hold his head high and deal with the fallout for speaking so carelessly.
Cameron didn’t say anything, though. He stood there awkwardly, looking between Emory and Ronan, until finally, Ronan made an exasperated noise and held out his hand.
“I’m Ronan, by the way. Sorry I wasn’t at the door to greet you earlier. Christopher always forgets something when planning these parties, and today, it was napkins, so I was dealing with that.”
Cameron hesitated before something in his expression changed. He clambered onto Emory’s lap and accepted Ronan’s hand. Emory’s lion was practically doing backflips at having Cameron in his lap again, but Emory wasn’t sure what to make of this.
“I’m Cameron. It’s great to meet you. I’ve heard bits and pieces about you and Christopher from Emory, and your place is amazing. Thanks so much for having me.”
Someone could have knocked Emory over with a feather. The way his mate could shift between emotions, going from vulnerable to aloof and back, was giving him whiplash. He hesitantly placed his hand on Cameron’s back, and Cameron scooted a little closer, resting his shoulder against Emory’s chest once more.
Ronan’s beard hid most of his surprise, but Emory could read his best friend from a mile away. “Of course. Thank you for coming. I hope Christopher didn’t talk your ear off too much while you were refilling drinks. He tends to do that.”
Emory brought his glass up to his lips and nearly choked on the first sip. This drink was twice as strong as the previous one, which hadn’t been weak to start. Cameron was watching him expectantly, though, so he swallowed the mouthful and tried to smile gratefully.
Cameron’s cheeks turned their beautiful dusty pink, and he took a sip of his own drink. His reaction was much less subtle than Emory had tried to be. His eyes widened, and he sputtered.
Ronan barked out a surprised laugh, clutching Emory’s shoulder as he did so. “And he does mix a mean drink!”
Cameron tried to regain his composure, clearing his throat a few times as his eyes settled on Ronan’s hand on Emory’s shoulder. Emory watched in fascination as the two men locked gazes and seemed to assess each other.
“Christopher did have a lot to say about you and Emory,” Cameron said, switching his glass to the hand closest to Emory’s chest. He placed his other hand on Emory’s thigh, his fingers almost tentative, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch Emory as freely as Ronan was.
Ronan’s knowing eyes tracked the movement. “Oh, yeah? Chris talking shit?”
A small smile curved Cameron’s lips, and he sank deeper into Emory’s chest. He responded automatically, wrapping his arm around Cameron’s waist and placing his hand on top of Cameron’s, where it rested on his leg. “He told one or two embarrassing stories, but honestly, it was really nice hearing how much the three of you care for each other and have been there for each other over the years.”
The alcohol churned in Emory’s stomach. That wasn’t really true as of late. He’d seen more of the four walls of his office than he had of his friends, and even though meeting his fated mate had been the biggest thing to happen to him in almost three years, he had only had one debrief session with his best friends on it. As if reading his mind, as he often did, Ronan’s hand tightened on Emory’s shoulder.
“We’ve seen each other through a lot. When I came out as ace, my parents struggled with it for a while. Chris has gone through it with his siblings and mom, and the past few years have been rough for Emory, but what are friends for if not weathering the goodandthe bad?”
The backs of Emory’s eyes began to sting, and he nuzzled his cheek against Cameron’s soft hair. Cameron flipped his hand over, and their fingers linked together like this was a move they’d practiced hundreds of times. Ronan squeezed his shoulder again, a move they actuallyhadpracticed hundreds of times, and then dropped his hand.
“I’m really glad he has you both,” Cameron said softly.
Emory pressed his face into Cameron’s hair. He wasn’t fully in control of himself anymore. His lion was front and center, and he had one thought, and one thought only. Appreciate every moment of contact they had with their mate—while they could.
“What about you, Cameron? Do you have folks you lean on?” Ronan asked, turning his body to face Cameron more head-on.
Cameron took a sip of his drink. His grimace was much smaller this time, so perhaps he was getting used to it. Emory followed suit and found that the melting ice had helped a bit.
“I’m really close with my sister. I’d say she’s my biggest supporter. Do you have family in the area?” Cameron asked, once again expertly swinging a conversation back on someone else.
The two went back and forth like this, Ronan opening up bit by bit, as he worked to slowly chip away at Cameron’s evasions. As they finished their drinks, they both became a little more animated, sharing stories about ridiculous things their families had done. Ronan’s alpha dad was a rabbit, and his omega mom was a chinchilla. Ronan was one of six children, typical for rabbit shifter families, and his parents would often have to shift to find one or sometimes multiple of the children during burrowing season, when they would hide in random places throughout the house.
Emory got lost in a story Cameron was telling about almost losing his omega pa in the ocean. When Cameron actually opened up about a subject, his face was expressive, and he talked with his hands. More than once, he accidentally knocked Emory’s face with a too broad gesture. Each time, he would absently pet Emory’s cheek or forehead and then lose himself in his story again.
Emory hoped this meant he was feeling more comfortable, but he also might just be drunk. His words were slurred, and anytime he tried to sit up straight to make a point, he tilted to theside. Ronan was at least tipsy, given his rapid speech, and Emory was well on his way to being drunk. His lion was lounging on the ground, basking in their fated mate’s attention, not paying attention to the conversation at all.
This was how he lost track of time, and suddenly, the party grew excited around them. Emory looked up right in time to see the TV switch to the countdown. The room began to count starting at ten, and Cameron whipped his head around to stare at Emory.
“Should we… Are we going to kiss?” Cameron asked, and Ronan hastily stood up, excusing himself to get another drink.
The countdown continued as Emory took Cameron’s empty glass and put it on the table next to his own empty cup. “I would love to share a kiss at midnight with you, honey, but I am well aware that we’re both rather drunk.”
Cameron mulled this over as the countdown hit three. “I mean…”
Emory stared at those two freckles and unconsciously tightened his grip on Cameron’s waist. He would give anything to kiss his mate at midnight, but if Cameron wanted to wait, he would. He could kiss those little marks on his cheek again, and it would still be a good night.
