Page 51 of The Leaving Kind

Given Victor’s expression, Cam might as well have said it. He reached for a different word and found, “Convenience.”

“Mm-hmm.” Victor looked him up and down, his light blue eyes glinting with interest.

“Stop that,” Cam said.

“Stop what? Measuring you for my next sketch?”

Cam jerked his chin toward the closed sketch pad. “The one you’re drawing in your mind?”

“I’m conceptualizing.”

“More like objectifying.” Cam lifted his brows but kept his expression light and humorous.

“You don’t strike me as the sort of person who minds being looked at. You’re fit, attractive, outgoing, able, and not averse to a little objectification yourself.”

Cam huffed as he stalked toward the table. “When have I looked at you the way you just looked at me?” Of course, he wanted to now, and the fact he’d only be reminding himself of assets he’d already catalogued did not pass him lightly. “Okay, maybe I have. I’m ... You’re ...” How had Victor put it? “Fit, attractive, outgoing, able, and not averse to a little objectification.”

Shaking his head, Victor smiled widely. “Not. At. All.”

They were standing too close. As close as they’d been in the garage. Cam leaned forward and Victor drew in a short, sharp breath. Smirking, Cam snatched the pencil off the top of the sketch pad and rocked back on his heels.

He spun the pencil through his fingers. “Fine. What do you want me to draw?”

Victor exhaled. Smiled. He flipped the sketch pad open to a blank page. “Whatever comes to mind.”

Cam frowned at the stark white rectangle of paper. Whatever comes to mind? Right now, that would be how Victor might taste. How firm or soft his kisses might be. How he liked to fuck. The sounds he might make. Would he scream or yell?

Squeezing his eyes shut, Cam breathed quietly and deeply as he sought alternate inspiration. Then again, he could draw a cock and balls and be done with it. Except, he didn’t want to end up in bed with Victor, up against a wall, or with one of them bent over a table. He did not want to sleep with this man.

When he opened his eyes, Victor hadn’t moved. He stood as still as Cameron, as though shifting would break a spell. His eyes, though. God damn, the way Victor looked at him.

Cam pulled his attention away from Victor and stared through the paper on the table. Then he gripped the pencil and put the point down. Sketched.

He’d doodled before. But he’d never tried to draw much more than stick figures or perhaps a crude map. He’d diagramed an engine repair, once, with instructions.

Sensing Victor would prefer something less dry, Cam drew a doughnut; a fat toroid with a wavy line around the outer edge. Then he put ears on it, floppy ones like Honey’s. A face beneath, the snout outlined against the doughnut’s edge. Paws, four of them, little nubs in pairs. A tail curving up and out ... No. He turned the pencil over and used the eraser to correct the angle of the tail, sketched it curling close to the head.

It was the worst drawing he’d ever seen. Silly too.

Cam put the pencil down and grinned at Victor. “There.”

Victor’s smile already lit his whole face. He laughed and shook his head. “Very good.”

It was Cam’s turn to laugh. “Good? It’s terrible. Worst drawing in the history of drawing.”

“Not so terrible I can’t tell what it is.”

“I’ll try harder next time.”

Victor smiled softly at the dog curled onto the cat bed in the corner. Thankfully, Honey was small and the cat bed on the large side, because she only just fit. She looked cozy and content, as though she’d always lived in this house, and when Victor knelt to stroke her head, she barely cracked an eye.

“Good little doughnut,” Victor crooned.

“Maybe I should change her name.”

Victor stood. “But Honey is such a perfect name.”

Cam opened his mouth. Closed it. Fought the prickle of heat moving across his cheeks. Spinning on one heel, he prepared to stalk back to his modeling corner. The sooner they finished this session of whatever, the sooner he could go home and figure out the rest of his Saturday-night plan. Because this wasn’t it. He’d wanted to hook up—with someone other than Victor.