He stopped, breathed out through his nose, and looked at Derek.
“Would it be all right if I gave you a call?”
“To what end, Derek? You were never my friend. If you were, you wouldn’t have had sex with my boyfriend.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But Troy always said there was no passion between you, and I convinced myself he was telling the truth. He had me duped into believing that you didn’t love him, not like I did, and––”
“It’s no excuse,” Cameron apprised him, “but it’s also ancient history. In retrospect, I wish you would have both come clean before that night. Who knows, if nothing else, our friendship, yours and mine, might have survived the fallout.”
“I tried to tell you a million times, but––”
“You didn’t,” he countered, “and like in any relationship, if there’s no trust, what’s left to work for?”
Derek nodded, taking a step back. I felt for him. If I lost Cameron, it would break me. We were lovers, yes, but we were friends too, and to lose a friend who would move mountains for you was painful to imagine.
“When you come back from Sacramento—” He cleared his throat. “—maybe then you’ll reconsider?”
Cameron smiled at him. “Okay, I’ll talk to you then.”
Derek nodded, turned, and walked away. And we continued toward the car.
“He must be totally hot.”
Cameron turned to me, brows furrowed, completely confused.
“I’m talking about Troy.”
“I’m sorry?”
We reached the car, and I used the fob to unlock it and walked over to hold his door open for him so he could get in. “Well, first he gets you, who are drop-dead gorgeous, and then he gets Derek, who’s not nearly as pretty but is also handsome, and then he boots Derek for someone who’s gotta be at least somewhere between you guys, so tell me, is he super-hot?”
“No, not really.”
After closing the door, I went around the car and got in the driver’s side, noting that Cameron had his arms crossed.
“Show me a picture,” I goaded him, putting on my seat belt before starting the car.
“I don’t have any pictures of him anymore.”
“Then google him and show me.”
“Are you serious?”
I grunted.
“This is ridiculous.” He pulled out his phone anyway, though, and did as I asked. Before I got on the freeway, he passed it to me, and I pulled over to look.
“Yeah, I knew you were screwing with me, Cam,” I told him, scrolling through image after image of the man. “He looks like a model.”
He shook his head.
“C’mon, I’m not blind. He absolutely does.”
Troy Fortney wasn’t nearly as beautiful as Cameron, but he was still stunning in that elegant, sophisticated blue-blood, old money, silver spoon, born-in-a-suit, mansion and million-dollar-sports car way. In every picture he was immaculately dressed, and it appeared effortless. I was betting that had appealed to Cameron’s own search for perfection.
“He’s perfect. I bet he looked like that, all put together, wherever he went, day or night.”
“Yes. Yes, he did. That’s not it, though.”
Pulling onto the freeway, I was quiet, imagining Troy and Cameron together and how dazzling that must have been.
He turned in his seat, as far as the belt would allow, to look at me. “Why aren’t you talking?”
“No reason.”
“You’re trying to imagine us together.”
“Believe me, I can imagine it just fine, but I bet if I googled it, I could find a picture of the two of you together.”
He shook his head. “You wouldn’t recognize me.”
“What do you mean?”
He took a breath. “You think I’d look like I do now.”
I glanced over him and then returned my eyes to the road. “I don’t understand what you mean. Was your hair different or something?”
“No,” he murmured, “but I wasn’t who I am now.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“For starters, I never smiled. I don’t remember laughing either.”
“How can that be?”
“You always give me these compliments, and they just come out, they just—you think I’m beautiful, and I hear the words, but—did you know my sister told me I was glowing today?”
“She did?”
“Yes. And Makayla asked me if I was getting more sun in Sacramento because I looked like I had a tan.”
“But you always look like this, like, gold all over.”
He exhaled sharply.
“What?”
“It’s you, idiot.”
“Idiot? We’re name-calling now?”
“Jeremiah Wolfe, it’s you!” he shouted, and it was loud in the closed interior of the SUV. “I’ve never been this happy, and I was schooled quite thoroughly today on how that’s the way it works with us Gallaghers.”