Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 1

that, indeed, he was suspended ten floors above ground, and, quick as a flash, hopped down onto the balcony. He tugged on his shirt, self-conscious.
    "What are you doing?" asked the blond guy. It took Cam a couple of seconds to process the words.
    "Uh..." he started. He almost said "I lost my key" but realized how ridiculous that was.
    "Mistress's husband show up?" asked the sequined girl. Her English was way worse than the blond guy's, and Cam could barely understand the mangled words. Everyone else, though, seemed to find this hilarious.
    "All right, it's secret, I get it," said the guy, and held out his hand. "I'm Anton."
    "Camden," he replied. "Cam."
    "We're having a party. It's my birthday. I'm twenty," said Anton with a grin. Cam couldn't help but raise his eyebrows. This Anton was several inches taller and his shoulders were wider than his own. He would have looked older than twenty if not for the full, rosy lips and smooth white skin that added to the angelic look. "Want a drink?"
    Since, as far as Cam knew, this was how they said hello in this country, he gladly accepted.
    Anton beckoned for Cam to follow him into the suite. The heavy bass of the house music pouring from the stereo shook the floor, and everywhere Cam looked he saw cute, tipsy girls and guys in expensive clothes. He had to pause a couple of times, seeing a face he recognized— from billboards and perfume ads in magazines. Who was this Anton, anyhow? He had half the models of this month's Vogue getting drunk in his living room.
    Anton led him to a bar in the corner, where he poured vodka into two heavy glasses. Cam hesitantly picked his up and clinked it against Anton's. "Zdravie!" said Anton with a wink and emptied the glass without cringing.
    Cam imitated him exactly, downing the contents of the glass in one gulp. The liquid burned down his throat like fire, and the next thing he knew, he was doubled over, coughing and sputtering, while Anton laughed and patted him on the back.
    "American," Anton said when Cam had caught his breath for long enough to stand up straight. It wasn't phrased as a question. Cam could only nod.
    "Can't hold your liquor," said Anton matter-of-factly, but Cam was already beyond caring. The familiar warmth was starting to spread through him, and his limbs felt light and his mood improved considerably. He started looking around the suite with new eyes, checking out the eye candy, when yet another girl with waist-length hair extensions and a tiny gold dress made an appearance— and immediately jumped onto Anton, wrapping long, tan legs around his waist and kissing him hard on the mouth. A lot of Russian banter followed, then the girl snatched up a glass of bubbly and went on to socialize with the crowd on the balcony.
    "Girlfriend?" Cam asked Anton in a lowered voice.
    Anton shrugged and grinned mischievously. "Nah. She thinks she's going to be, eventually. Me, meanwhile, I'm enjoying the blow jobs."
    For some reason, watching Anton's lips move as he said the last two words was way more appealing than it had any right to be. Cam found himself staring at the Russian's mouth, mesmerized, until Anton snapped his fingers in front of Cam's face. "Hello. Anyone home?"
    "Uh," Cam choked out. In normal circumstances he would have tentatively tried to kiss him, and then act according to the guy's reaction. But he had to remind himself that this was not his usual crowd. Last he'd heard, they had little tolerance for that sort of thing here, and the last thing he wanted was to start an international incident by being beaten to near death by a bunch of the local nouveaux riches. So instead he requested something he knew he wouldn't be refused: more vodka.
    The evening progressed. The flashily dressed Russian kids showed some faint interest in the American guy, but not for long, once it turned out he didn't speak their language and they didn't speak English half as well as Anton. Cam briefly wondered what was up with that.
    In his increasingly inebriated state, he wandered around the suite, determined to ask him. Instead, he stumbled upon Anton and the girl in the gold dress— minus the actual gold dress— going at it in a dark bedroom. Cam let out a soft shriek and stepped out, but Anton looked up and their gazes met for just a millisecond before Cam shut the door.
    He leaned against the wall, mortified. Shit! Talk about awkward. He should get out of here right this second. He couldn't even remember how much he'd had to drink,