He did as he’d been instructed, but nothing could drown out the voices around him.
“Mr. Stone. Mr. Stone. Is it true that you’re dating Asher Dare?”
“Mr. Stone, can you confirm the rumors that Asher Dare is gay?”
“Mr. Stone, what can you tell us about Asher Dare’s relationship with Kyle Anders?”
“Are you and Asher Dare living together?”
That one didn’t even make any sense. Obviously, they knew where Cameron lived, which meant they had to know he and Asher didn’t live together.
“Is it true that Mr. Dare employs prostitutes at his home in Preston Hollow?”
Prostitutes? Really? And the questions only became more and more ludicrous from there. Cameron had to hand it to them, though. They were imaginative—and goddamn persistent.
After what felt like an eternity, the front porch steps finally came into his limited view, and Cameron hurried up them, eager to be within the safety of his home. Unfortunately, it was then that he remembered he’d locked his front door and hadn’t brought the key with him. So, he was surprised when the knob turned easily in Ryder’s grasp, and the door opened without impediment.
Inside, he whipped the jacket off his head and passed it back to Ryder. “I swear I locked that door.”
“And I unlocked it.” Arms folded, legs splayed out in front of him, Nico reclined in one of the dining chairs in the breakfast nook. “Coffee?”
“Yes,” Cameron answered fervently. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Asher called me.”
“And I called him,” Ryder added as a man in a leather jacket and baggy jeans rounded the corner from thehallway. “Cameron, this is Tieran Mercier, a fellow ARIES.” He turned back to the man. “Clear?”
The new guy nodded at Cameron, his whiskey-colored eyes narrowed and intense. “All clear,” he confirmed to Ryder. “Any problems getting inside?”
Though he spoke quickly and without inflection, his voice held just a touch of an accent. Cameron couldn’t be sure, but he thought it might come from southern Louisiana. Tieran wasn’t as tall as Ryder, or as broad in the shoulders, but there was something about him, a hardness that was intimidating as hell.
“No problems. I kind of thought there’d be more reporters.”
“Same here,” Tieran said, carding his fingers through his dark hair. “There are more in town, though.”
“More?” Cameron nearly choked. His life had turned into a scene out of one of Asher’s books, and he appeared to be the only one unsettled by it. Hell, even Nico looked unfazed as he leisurely sipped his coffee. “This is insane.” The anxiety he’d felt since they’d turned onto his street had finally reached critical mass. “I can’t do this.”
“Right.” Nico lowered his cup to the table, then motioned toward the back of the house. “Guys, can you give us a little space?”
Without speaking, Tieran turned and made his way over to the sliding glass door that led out onto Cameron’s back deck. Ryder nodded and moved to take up watch atthe windows that looked out onto the front porch. They hadn’t even technically left the room, but at least they were trying to give them the illusion of privacy.
“Calm down, Debbie Dramatic.” Nico stood, then pointed to the chair across the table. “Sit.”
Cameron sat, nervously tapping his foot while he watched Nico head into the kitchen to prepare him a cup of coffee with lots of cream and sugar. “Thanks,” he muttered when his friend placed the oversized mug in front of him. “I needed this.”
Resuming his seat, Nico stretched his legs out and crossed them at the ankles. “Want to talk about it?”
“What? Considering I just waded through about thirty reporters to get to my front door, I think I’ve earned the right to have a nervous breakdown.”
Nico stared at him as he sipped his coffee, judgment written in every line of his face.
“Okay, so maybe it was only seven or eight reporters, andmaybeI slightly overreacted.”
“Slightly?”
Cameron snorted. “Shut up.”
“Better now?”
