Scott forced himself to look at him. Huh. Right. He’d forgotten Andy was still there. “What?”
“You’re practically in his lap, Scott.”
“Am not!” Scott protested. He wasn’t. Or was he?
Cam glanced at Andy, his hand slipping to Scott’s waist, the touch strong and steady. “Don’t look at me that way, mate. I’m straight. He attached himself like an octopus. I’m simply sitting here.”
Scott tilted his face up, grinning at him. “Just doing the good deed of the day. Exposure therapy. Or something.”
Andy stepped closer, reaching for Scott’s arm. “Come on, dance with me,” he insisted, his voice uncharacteristically biting. “I’myour boyfriend.”
Blinking, Scott looked between them—Andy’s outstretched hand, Cam’s firm grip at his waist. The moment stretched. And stretched.
Cam’s fingers on his waist flexed, tightening a little.
Scott knew he should probably go with Andy. He was being a shit boyfriend. It didn’t matter that he’d known Andy for just a week. He was being a jerk by neglecting him.
But he really didn’t want to move. He was perfectly content exactly where he was.
“We’re celebrating,” he said.
Andy’s hand dropped.
Cam leaned in, brushing his mouth against Scott’s ear, probably so he didn’t have to shout. “You’re going to get yourself in trouble,” he murmured.
Scott shivered. “Maybe,” he said, squirming even closer to him. “But I can’t stand clingy ones. If he can’t deal with me having fun with my friends, it’s better to cut him loose sooner rather than later. Less drama that way.”
Cam laughed. “You’re the only one allowed to be clingy, right?”
“Exactly,” Scott said with a smile, burying his face in Cam’s neck again. Mmm, he smelled so good. So nice. Scott wanted to roll around in his scent.
“I’m serious, Scott,” Andy said. The music seemed to swallow the words, but his tone was sharp enough to cut through the drunken haze in Scott’s head. “I’m tired of competing with him for your attention. You’ve been ignoring me all weekend.”
Turning his head, Scott blinked at him, slow and unfocused. “It’s not a competition, silly. Not with Cam.”
Andy laughed, eyeing them. “Yeah. I get it now.” He shook his head, his lips twisted bitterly. “I knew you were too perfect. Of course it was too good to be true. I just didn’t expectthis.”
Scott frowned, his alcohol-addled mind struggling to make sense of what Andy was saying. Cam shifted beside him, his thumb still tracing idle circles at Scott’s waist, and Scott’sattention drifted back to him. No, he had to tell Andy something.Focus.
“Andy,” he said vaguely. “I’m sorry if I—”
“Don’t be,” Andy said with a crooked smile, shaking his head. “If anything, I feel sorry for you. It won’t end well.” And with that, he walked away.
Scott watched him leave with a confused frown. “Did he just dump me?” he asked after a beat.
“Looks like it,” Cam said, sounding unbothered.
Scott nodded slowly. If Cam wasn’t bothered, he probably shouldn’t be, either. “That sucks,” Scott muttered, pouting. “Will is going to make fun of me again for my fleeting relationships.”
Cam snorted. “Nice priorities.”
They ordered another round. Or maybe two. Or three. Time went syrupy and indistinct.
Later—much later—there was cool night air and a sidewalk that wouldn’t stay still. Scott clung to Cam’s arm as they walked, both of them stumbling and dissolving into helpless laughter every few steps.
“Hotel’s this way,” Cam insisted, though he sounded only marginally more certain than Scott felt.
“Lead the way, champ,” Scott slurred grandly.
