He’d missed the way the top step on his front porch creaked, and the way the paint was fading on his deck. He had missed the one cabinet door in his kitchen that hung a little crookedly and never quite closed all the way. He’d missed the way the sun sparkled off the water of the lake, and he’d especially missed the sounds of laughter and music that floated down the shoreline from the Boardwalk.
Asher’s house was big and beautiful and ridiculously perfect. Nothing creaked or squeaked. Everything shined liked new, and it had every extravagance he could possibly want, but it wasn’t a home. The only sounds of laughter came from the television, and nothing but classical music filled the rooms where Asher was working. Not that Cameron had anything against pianos and violins. He just didn’t find it inspiring the way Asher did.
Well, not unless being inspired to sleep counted.
Over the years, Asher had filled his house with art of every kind, expensive antiques, and techy gadgets, but none of it meant anything. Cameron understood why Asher didn’t have pictures of his family on the mantle, but there wasn’t a single personal item anywhere in his massive mansion. He didn’t even keep copies of his own books in the house. Cameron knew, because he’d spent days during his self-imposed house arrest searching every room for one.
He’d also discovered it was indeed possible to live with someone, and barely ever see them. During the past week,Asher had spent every evening working feverishly to complete the last Marshall Kane book. Then, he’d pour himself into bed just as Cameron was waking up to start his own stressful day, and he’d sleep until the afternoon—restlessly, if the state of the bed was any indication.
Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
He was glad Asher had found a renewed passion for the mystery series, but Cameron didn’t like going to bed alone every night. He’d gotten used to Asher curled up against his back, and he missed it. He missed Asher.
God, they needed a break. Not from each other, but from deadlines and problems and people wanting things from them. They needed a break from their lives and time to actually betogether, not just in the same vicinity.
Unfortunately, he didn’t see that happening any time soon.
He finished tying his shoelaces on autopilot, his mind cluttered with a to-do list as long as his arm. Lost in thought, he didn’t hear his cell phone chime with an incoming message. Hell, he might not have noticed it at all if the screen hadn’t illuminated just as he reached for it.
Asher: It’s Friday.
It was probably the shortest text he’d ever received from the guy. So short, in fact, he didn’t have enough information to form an intelligent response.
Cameron: Umm…yes?
Asher: You’re not here.
Ah, now they were getting somewhere. It was the first weekend they hadn’t spent together since they’d met, and frankly, Cameron had been feeling a little lost himself. As much as he’d missed his home, he hadn’t slept well during the night, and waking up to an empty house had felt strange and lonely.
Cameron: You’re up early.
The clock in the upper right corner of his screen showed just past nine. Cameron pursed his lips and typed out another message.
Cameron: Have you slept yet?
Asher: A little.
He shook his head and sighed. He could easily picture Asher sitting in his favorite chair by the fire, drinking insane amounts of coffee, and glaring at his laptop as if it had personally offended him.
Cameron: You need to sleep.
Asher: I slept for like four hours. I’m good.
As much as he wanted to argue, he knew it wouldn’t do any good. Not while Asher was in “writer mode” as he liked to call it.
Asher: What are you doing today?
Cameron: Meeting Linda.
Asher: About the book signing?
Cameron: Yep.
Asher: I think I should be there. It is my signing after all.
Cameron bit down on the inside of his cheek so as not to laugh, even though there was no one around to see him. If he laughed, he just knew Asher would sense his amusement, and it would only encourage his behavior.
Cameron: Go write.
