Buzz (The Riley Brothers Book 1) (12 page)

The road stretched before Cameron and Ontario became Quebec, the signs French, and the drivers angrier.

He kept his energy up by changing the radio station and trying to understand French talk radio. He'd skipped French class because he was an athlete, but whenever he was in Quebec he regretted it.

His drive had started at seven after a quick A&W run, and he was still tired despite it being just after one. He wasn't quite halfway home, but he'd gotten through the snarl of Montreal traffic. He kept a sharp eye out for diners. By the time Cameron spotted one, he was in Trois-Rivières and his stomach growled.

Mindful of his extra momentum with a trailer attached, he changed lanes and signaled to exit. He was already tingling with anticipation. He wanted a warm cup of coffee and something filling for lunch. Maybe not too filling, though... soup and bread? God, that sounded nice.

The highway had been bare and sandy, great conditions for this time of spring, all the way out here. Once he crossed into New Brunswick, all bets would be off. The province was too fuckin' broke to fill in their potholes.

Cam pulled in near the back of the parking lot with the larger vehicles. He took a look around at the wooded area and restrooms powered by solar panels. Sketchy. He wasn't out to get his dick sucked; he'd wait for a bathroom in the diner.

Once the trailer was backed up against the woods so tightly only a team of professional lifters could jack it, he hopped out of his truck and locked it up. Then, he strode for the diner to pursue his daydreams of coffee.

“Hello-bonjour.”

“Afternoon,” Cameron greeted the waitress who met him at the front of the diner. She guided him to a table near the window. There were a few couples and groups of friends, but mostly single guys – truckers and the likes. None of them were even hot enough to risk watching.

It was a good menu: simple, hearty road food, with the names of the dishes in English and French. The descriptions were only French, but “tomato soup” was self-explanatory. There was something about bread in the description, and he was pretty sure
beurre
was butter.

Did Noah know French? Growing up in Ottawa, there was as good a chance he did as Cameron. Maybe he'd been a French immersion kid. He seemed like the classy type. And was he working for the government, or was that a private art gallery? If it was a government job, he'd know it.

He smiled, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he waited for the waitress to bring coffee. He sent a quick text to Noah. '
In Trois
'-- He made a face at his phone and guessed.

Trois Riviers
.

It didn't bother auto-correcting and he muttered under his breath, “Useless thing.” Before sending it, he added one more sentence.

Hope your day is great :)

He hesitated, then pressed send. The waitress delivered coffee first. Before he'd even finished the first cup, he had his soup with bread and butter. Her French accent was thick as she wished him “bon appetit” with a wink and bustled off to take care of another table.

She thought he was straight? Or was that a friendly wink because she'd guessed he wasn't? Either way, Cameron smiled to himself, glad for the human contact in his long day of road noise. His hands still vibrated a little from the wheel.

When he finished his soup, bread, and coffee, he left a couple bills for the meal and a tip. He went to use the restroom inside since it was cleaner than he guessed the one outside would be.

On his way back down the hallway towards the restaurant, a young guy with a shock of dyed-blue hair approached. Cam didn't even need to pay attention to his gaydar. Cam wanted to give him a smile of camaraderie, but the other guy kept his eyes down. He made a wide berth around him, his shoulders rising defensively.

Oh, shit. I do come off straight.

Cameron headed out of the restaurant, zipping up his jacket against the spring chill. He'd been planning to stick around and stretch his legs, but now he just wanted to drive.

It was weird: it wasn't like he was out to the world, but he wasn't closeted, either. As he merged back onto the highway, Cameron wondered for the first time if everyone on his team
had
known.

Maybe Nathan was right. Maybe people hadn't known about them and he'd been accidentally inviting attention from others. Or was there something wrong with
him
that Nathan hadn't wanted to show him off? It had been a mutual decision not to discuss their relationship status...

Cameron turned up the music.

The moment a purr of an engine stopped outside his house, Jackson switched off the TV and jumped to his feet. He'd been waiting all evening, drinking a few beers and watching a Storage Wars marathon. That could only be the person he'd been waiting for: his little brother.

He pushed aside the curtains to glance out into the dark evening. Yep, Cameron's SUV was parked on the curb in front of the house, hitched to an orange and white trailer.

A grin spread over Jackson's face. He strode to the foyer and shoved on his shoes just in time to hear footsteps on the porch. He yanked open the front door before Cam knocked.

“Welcome home, little brother.” He pulled open the screen door and stepped outside to hug him, then help him get his stuff inside.

Fuck, Cam looked exhausted. He had dark circles beneath his eyes, a shock of hair pushed up at the back of his head from the car headrest. It wasn't as bad as at the hospital, but it was a close second.

“Thanks,” Cam chuckled, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat. “Just gotta bring in a box from the car with the important shit. Everything else can wait. I'll load them inside... next week, while you're at work. I've got the rental 'til Monday.”

“I'll get it,” Jackson told him, walking down his driveway with Cam. “How was the drive?”

“Can't complain. Long, though. Remind me never to do that again.”

Jackson laughed. He'd never driven straight through to Ontario before. He'd gone there with buddies now and then, and to Montreal, but they'd always taken turns driving. Cam must have had a real fire under his ass to take it all in one day like this.

“I can get the box,” Cam grumbled. Jackson grabbed it from the SUV anyway while Cam slammed the back hatch and led the way back up to the step. “I hope you have beer. I could use one.”

“Yeah, of course. I picked up a case yesterday.”

“That's my brother,” Cameron approved.

Jackson laughed. He thought his brother had gone through his partying phase by now, but maybe not. In any case, there was reason to celebrate tonight. Speaking of which... “Did you have your season end party?”

Cameron winced and Jackson frowned, then kicked himself. Of course it would be touchy. “Yeah. Lively as always. Matty got picked.”

“Holy shit, no way.” Jackson had only met Matty a couple times, but the guy seemed decent. According to Cam, his agility was second to none, but he'd still scored fewer points that season than Cam. Which meant...

“They were gonna draft me,” Cam added, his voice carefully neutral.

Jackson didn't quite know what to say. He set the box down in his living room while Cam shut the door, then hauled Cam in for a tight hug.

Cam clapped his back a few times and squeezed Jackson before letting go and jutting his chin out. He threw his coat near the closet and kicked off his shoes while Jackson kicked his off, too. “Where's that beer?”

Jackson took the hint: don't mention the fucking team for a day or two. “Lemme grab them. Want anything to eat?”

“I'm starved. Something quick would be awesome.”

“A couple sandwiches?” Cam always had two. His appetite... well, he had to feed an athlete's body, like Jackson had to feed a blacksmith's muscles.

“Thanks, man.”

As Cam browsed his phone, Jackson put together two sandwiches just the way their mom had made them for school. Two slices of ham, thick slices of cheddar cheese, a slice of lettuce, and a slice of tomato. Extra mayo and butter on the bread. Cut into halves. Served with a cold beer. Well, that was a new addition.

He shoved them both onto a plate and handed them over as Cam put away his phone and wolfed them down.

Once Cam had eaten and finished half his beer, they moved back to crash on the living room couch. “So everything got packed up fine? Utilities cancelled?”

“Yeah, I took care of most of that by phone,” Cam told him. “The landlord's walking through today and I'd better get most of my deposit back. I didn't wash the walls or anything.”

“You slob.” Jackson smirked and swigged his beer.

Cam groaned. “Get off my back,” he bantered, jabbing an elbow into Jackson's arm. “But yeah, it all went fine. Nate was already in to pick up his shit so I had half the work.”

“Oh... Good?”

“Yeah. I didn't have to look the prick in the eye.”

Jackson let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Cam
was
over him, at last. “I worried about that.”

Cam nodded. “Don't. He's gone. I dunno how great New Brunswick will be for dating, but... I want to have a family of my own, and that was never gonna happen in Ontario with everything I had going on. Especially not with him.”

Kids? Or just a husband?
Jackson watched his little brother with a smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. What about you?”

Jackson shifted, unsure how to answer. It wasn't like he wasn't interested in dating, but... things just came up. His art show project, staircase posts, snowstorms... He knew it was all excuses, but he hadn't met anyone who was worth getting over those excuses.

“I'm happy for now,” he finally answered. “I
do
wanna meet someone, but... it'd take someone to put up with me.”

“Yeah, it would,” Cam teased, finishing off his beer bottle and setting it aside on the coffee table.

Jackson kicked him. “You little brat.”

“Glad your little brother's home?” Cameron rose to his feet, eyeing the staircase up to the guest bedroom.

Jackson stood up, too, to gather up the empties in the living room. He gave Cam a sincere smile. “Very.”

Cam turned a little red and punched Jackson in the shoulder as he passed by. “Me too. I gotta crash. Night, man.”

“Night,” Jackson said, bringing the bottles to the kitchen to rinse out and slide into the case of empties.

He grimaced at Cam's coat on the floor and picked it up to at least hang it on the hooks that were
right there
... Living together wasn't easy, but his brother needed a place until the house closed.

A crumpled piece of paper left on the floor caught his eye. He stooped down to pick it up, and though he hadn't meant to read it, he scanned it to see if it was his or Cam's.

The answer was clear: Cam's. He scanned the last line twice, not sure he'd read that.

Maybe they can help you grow enough balls to come out, properly.

Jackson's jaw dropped. “That asshole,” he whispered, the blood heating up in his veins. He wasn't one for fighting unless he had a good reason, but this was a
great
reason to kick the shit out of Nathan.

He had to fight to calm himself down, patting Cam's jacket down for a pocket to shove the note into.

The worst part was that he suspected Nathan might be in touch again, and Cam might not say no. Cam was the type to need someone around. Not for his ego, but because he got lonelier than even he knew.

His heart heavy, Jackson climbed the stairs for bed.

As the pillow rustled under his ear, Cameron groaned. It had to be no later than six-thirty.

Fuck his body's routine. He didn't
need
to wake up early... but once he opened his eyes, it was too late.

He rubbed a hand across his eyes to wipe the sleep away, then rolled out of bed. He crept downstairs and brought his box of essentials up to the guest bedroom. Once he found a t-shirt and jeans, he headed for the shower and changed into them, then dug out a hoodie for warmth.

The drive had exhausted him enough that he eyed the bed as he dressed, wondering if he could make a rare exception and climb back in.

No... I've got somewhere to be.

He glanced out the living room windows to make sure his SUV and trailer were still parked there. They were, of course. He was in his hometown, not Toronto, where they'd knock him over the head to unload the trailer behind his back.

After coffee, cereal, and peanut butter toast, Cam grabbed his phone and wallet and he was ready to go.

He even skipped the jacket that morning. The brisk early May air was refreshing, but as soon as the sun peeked over the tops of the trees that lined Jackson's street, he overheated. Sunshine on his face made him smile with anticipation for the summer ahead. Renovations, backyard barbecues, and more awaited.

He unzipped his hoodie, then caught his breath. It was one of his Toronto team shirts.

Oh, crap. Noah better not notice it...

It wasn't that he was hiding it, exactly. He just didn't want to get into a full explanation of all the shit of the last month. Even Jackson's question last night had made his gut twist. That little voice in the back of his mind shouted,
Come on, Riley, push through it. Don't be a coward. Why fear?

Cameron turned his face toward the sun as he ambled. It didn't take long to smell the distinctive mix of cinnamon, samosas, and hot dogs that heralded the Saturday market. He smiled as he strolled through the light crowds of people with canvas totes full of veggies.

He tried to remember where Noah's uncle's honey stand was. It took him a while to work his way over until he spotted the yellow signs. An older man stood behind the stall, his hair up in a cowlick. He had wide brown eyes like Noah's. The similarities ended there, but it was enough to convince Cam that this was the right guy.

Unlike the last time he'd visited the market, it was quiet enough to approach the stall right away. “Hello, sir. Do you have a minute?”

The beekeeper seemed startled to be approached so directly. “Well, hello. I do.” He scanned Cameron's face as if trying to place it.

“I'm Cameron. I met your nephew, Noah...”

“Oh, you're his Toronto boy! I'm Bill.” The man's face warmed up immediately as he reached out to shake hands.

His Toronto boy.
Cameron's heart lurched, but he tried to move past the excitement the phrase instilled. Noah had been talking about him. “Pleased to meet you.”

“I understand you're interested in an apprenticeship this summer, and possibly carpentry?”

“Yes, sir. I'm just looking for any kind of work right now. I grew up here but I'm moving back to town, so I'm job-hunting, you could say.”

Bill nodded. “You look strong enough to lift fifty pounds at a time.”

Cameron bit back his amusement and licked his lips. Coach Walker would have laughed in his face. “Yes, sir.”

“Oh, it's just Bill.”

“I'll try to remember that. It's a hard habit to break,” Cameron admitted. He “sir”-ed everyone from the ref to his coaches and the docs. It opened doors that even talent didn't.

Bill laughed. “Toronto fan, eh?”

Cameron glanced down at his shirt and smiled. There wasn't a good way to admit he was more than a fan... but shit, now he
was
just a fan. “Uh huh. You follow the minor leagues?”

“Oh, yes. Best way to spot talent.”

It's not like I'm hiding...

“Any draft picks?”

“Um... I haven't decided yet,” Cameron admitted. Shit... if he knew the team that well, he might recognize him. He had to tell Noah before Bill did, but he was the failure who'd blown their best shot at the Cup in years. He hadn't even been on Twitter or any of the fan sites, too worried about what he might see there.

“Well, I'll be watching. Season's over for them, now, eh?”

“Yep.” Cameron offered another smile. “Shame.”

“It is. They had a great run. Anyway, how about dropping by tomorrow to help build some supers? We can talk more there and I can show you one of the yards.”

Cam wasn't sure what a super was, but if it would get him an in with Bill, he'd do it. “Of course. What's your address?” He pulled out his phone to take note of it.

“One PM work for you?”

“Yes, sir—Bill.” Cameron reached out to shake hands again. “It's a pleasure to meet you. I'll let you get to it,” he nodded at a couple people in his peripheral vision waiting for a chance to talk to Bill.

From hockey player to beekeeper: who the fuck made these kinds of life decisions? It definitely wasn't to get closer to Noah.

He smiled, taking out his phone to see if Noah had responded to his texts from last night.