Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 1

disguise?"
    "You just don't get it, do you?"
    Cam honestly didn't.
    "I'm not supposed to be here," Anton said. "If anyone finds out..." he trailed off. Cam had come up to him and without further ado put his hands under Anton's shirt. "Hey," Anton murmured, not seeming too keen on protesting.
    "Hey, it's exactly what you did last time," said Cam with a shrug.
    "Will you listen to what I'm trying to say?" Anton insisted, but Cam silenced him with a kiss.
    After they were done, Anton made an attempt to get out of bed, but Cam had thought of that. Casually, he threw his arm over him.
    "Um," said Anton, trying to extricate himself.
    "I don't think so," Cam rolled over lazily, grinding his hips into Anton's thigh.
    "Seriously, man. Let go."
    "Why? We can stay in bed, order room service..."
    Anton sighed. "For god's sake. Don't you ever listen?"
    Cam blinked.
    Anton rolled his eyes. "You only hear what you want to hear, don't you?"
    "Hey, what's the matter?"
    "I keep trying to tell you, but it seems to just..." Anton agonizingly searched for the right words. "In one ear and out the other."
    "All right, princess." Cam stretched and sat up. "What's the problem?"
    "If anyone finds out what I'm doing here, I might as well be dead."
    Cam raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think that's a bit of an exaggeration?"
    Anton glowered at him with undisguised resentment. "No, it's not an exaggeration, you spoiled American brat."
    "Hey!" Cam protested, sitting up.
    "My father is an important man," said Anton grimly.
    "So? My dad is a bigwig too." Cam shrugged. "On the contrary, I can get away with more..."
    Anton groaned, tearing his hand through his tangled blond ringlets. "Will you shut up for two seconds and let me finish?"
    Cam gaped at him, slightly taken aback. Anton continued, "My father is an important man. And if word gets around that his son is... is..."
    Cam almost interjected with a deliberately offensive term, but thought better of it, and just nodded.
    "Anyway. It will make him look... bad. In front of his associates," Anton finished vaguely.
    In theory, Cam supposed he could understand how that worked. "All right," he said. "Fine. It's a secret. My lips are sealed. Happy?"
    Anton nodded, got out of bed and stared to get dressed.
    "Wait a minute!" Cam exclaimed. "Didn't I just say– ?"
    Anton shrugged. "I still have to go."
    Cam had a hard time disguising his disappointment and frustration. "Well, when am I going to see you again?"
    Anton made a vague hand gesture. "Whenever," he replied curtly, and before Cam could react, he was out the door.
    ****
    It was ironic, Cam thought grimly as he paced the room. Anton had somehow managed to accomplish what Cam's own father and his 24-hour security guards had failed. Cam spent every minute in his hotel room, only going out to his sessions with the addictions therapist, not even leaving to go eat. Only it wasn't for the reason his father intended.
    Cam spent every free minute waiting for Anton.
    In the last three weeks he learned all about the joys of delayed gratification. But when Anton did show up, it was bliss. One morning Cam returned from the therapy session only to be told that someone had dropped by looking for him, and, having been told Cam was out, had left without leaving a message. Cam spent the entire day seething with rage. Once or twice Anton showed up in a near panic because Cam's security people searched him, and Cam had to reassure him they were not going to tell anyone, least of all Anton's father.
    After a while (and especially after a very long five days without a word from Anton) Cam started to wonder what it was all about. He tried to strike a conversation with one of the security people, asking him about anyone important named Orlov, but the man chuckled and told him half the country was named Orlov. That left Cam unsatisfied and only mystified him further.
    Later that week he had a rare day in the company of his father, and he had the ill judgment to bring it up. His father had frowned, eyed his with suspicion and wanted to know where Cam had heard the name. Cam hastily lied that he read it on the news.
    "The news?" his father asked. "Since when do you read the news?"
    "I have nothing to do all day. I'm dying of boredom," he said. "All I have to entertain me is the news."
    His father looked at him with disapproval. "Keep doing well in your sessions, and we might negotiate something. Your doctor tells me you're not telling him a thing lately..."
    "Because I have