Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 1

and the room swayed gently under him like the deck of a ship. He found the front door and stumbled out into the hallway, closing the door behind him, when he remembered his problem upstairs. He cursed loudly and slumped against the wall, trying to think of what to do next.
    He was in the same spot five minutes later when the door opened just a crack. Cam looked up, alarmed, only to see Anton peek out.
    "Here you are," he whispered loudly and slipped out into the hall.
    "Sorry," Cam started awkwardly, but the very next moment their lips met, and Cam forgot whatever else he was going to say. Anton's lips were as luscious as they looked. Cam tasted champagne, a hint of some girl's lip gloss... and Anton, sweet and bitter and musky. Anton's softish blond whiskers tickled his jaw. And more than that, there was some kind of urgency in the kiss, some kind of hunger that Cam, used to the blasé attitudes of his circle of friends, hadn't encountered before. It made his head spin, and not just from the alcohol.
    Just as suddenly as it happened, it was over. Cam found himself staring straight into Anton's eyes— cornflower-blue, and, right now, filled with an emotion Cam couldn't quite identify.
    He's waiting for something, a thought raced through Cam's mind. He didn't think further, he just pulled Anton close and kissed him again, and this time, he only broke away long enough to murmur:
    "Got a room?"
    Anton cast a doubtful glance at the door of the suite. He shook his head. "Yours?"
    Cam made a face. "Off limits."
    "Shit."
    The moment fell apart from there. Anton ran his hand over his blond curls. "Shit," he muttered under his breath. And then a whole bunch of words in Russian that Cam could very well guess the meaning of.
    "It's no big deal," he said with a shrug. "I'll be here for a while, so..."
    "No big deal?" To Cam's shock and surprise, Anton had him up against the wall by the collar of his shirt. "No big deal? If anyone sees us, if anyone finds out about us, well... I'm better off dead."
    He let go of Cam, as if his energy suddenly drained out of him. Cam blinked, astonished.
    "Sheesh," he murmured. "Chill out."
    "You know what? Maybe it's best if you go," said Anton, with a suddenly thick Russian accent. He was pacing the hall nervously.
    "Well, can I see you again?" Cam asked, a little hesitant in case he might set off another bout of drama.
    Anton pulled the key card out of the back pocket of his jeans and swiped it in the lock.
    "Better not."
    "But..." Cam protested, but the door had already slammed closed behind Anton.
    Cam stared at it for a few seconds until he was sure Anton wasn't coming back. Then he sighed and started shakily down the hallway. His father's security people? To hell with them. They were not going to tell him what he could or couldn't do.
    ****
    It turned out that, in fact, they could. The next morning he was very abruptly roused and dragged off to his appointment. After sullenly staring down his therapist for an hour, Cam's mood was shit, and the massive hangover did nothing to help. At least by the time he got back to the hotel, his jailers relented enough to let him hit up the breakfast buffet.
    Cam was mixing yet another sugar packet into his watery coffee when he got the unmistakable feeling of being observed. He looked up and nearly dropped the coffee cup— he was standing practically face to face with Anton.
    "Hey," said Anton, a little awkward.
    "Hey," Cam grumbled. "How was the party?"
    Anton gave a shrug and made a face.
    "I hoped you'd still be here."
    "So I am," muttered Cam, picking a limp pancake off the top of the pile and plopping it down onto his tray.
    "I just wanted to apologize for yesterday," said Anton levelly. Only now Cam noticed that he looked as baby-faced as he had last night, no bleary eyes, sallow complexion or sour mood to indicate the slightest hangover. Damn.
    "Apologize?" Cam snapped. "There's nothing to apologize for. You have some serious issues, man. You might wanna consider seeing someone." The hypocrisy of his own words struck him a second too late, which only made him angrier.
    Anton looked anguished. He leaned in and said in a hushed voice, "Maybe where you're from it works like that. Here, it doesn't."
    Aw, poor baby, Cam thought angrily. But Anton had that supplicating look in his eyes that made it hard to stay angry.
    "Look, come by my room," Cam said, lowering his voice so as not to freak him out. "We'll just talk about this. All right?"
    Anton eyed