Cam and I never got a chance to make good on our agreement.

It was hard to get into the mood when you were worried about your psychotic ex-client and the troubled teen you were harboring in your apartment. I told Cam to go back to his own place where he'd at least be comfortable, but he refused to leave me alone. By the time everyone settled in for the night, he was out on the couch, and I kept going back and forth between my room and Liz's. I fought with myself every time, knowing I shouldn't open the door and infringe on her privacy. I never did it, all through the night, but I kept going back there every time Brett crossed my mind.

Eventually I ended up on the couch with Cam--his suggestion, since he hadn't been asleep, either--and we turned on The Great British Baking Show until we both fell asleep where we sat.

I woke to the smell of soap and spice and Cam, and a smile curved my lips as I nuzzled against the warm source of the smell. My brain instantly registered that I was laying against him, though it took the feather-light brush of his hair to realize I'd apparently fallen asleep with my face buried against his neck. The little huff of breath I let out as I tried not to laugh must have tickled, because Cam shivered and slowly roused.

"Mmm," he murmured, that rumble of sound sending delicious tremors through my body.

If we'd actually been alone back at his place, I would have found another way to bring him into the world of the waking. Namely, my lips wrapped around his morning wood. Cam must have been thinking the same thing, because he turned to me with heat in his eyes.

"You have a lot more clothes on than I expected." His gaze roved so slowly over my body that I couldn't help but shudder.

"Well, you know how horny I get for cake," I said, nodding toward the screen that had long since switched to the Netflix screensaver, "but somehow, yes, I managed to keep my clothes on."

Being this close to him, feeling the warmth of his body pressed against mine made the rest of the world slip away. In that moment, it didn't matter that we weren't alone. It didn't matter that both of us were stressed out of our minds. It didn't matter that I'd made an agreement with him to keep things strictly physical. I needed something more, and when I leaned into him and brushed my lips against his, I was asking for it.

Cam responded to my soft, sensual kiss with one of his own, his lips caressing mine, tongue stroking the seam until I opened to him. We kissed as though we really had woken up naked in each other's arms, and I knew as I shifted myself into his lap that there was no way I'd be able to stick to the agreement we'd made. I wanted the warmth and the comfort and the affection that came with this kiss. I wanted it more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life.

But it was Cam who brought me back to reality, even as I felt his cock swell beneath me. "We should probably check on Liz."

I sighed against his lips, and let my head drop to his shoulder for a moment. He just kept holding me like that, in silent understanding of the fear and frustration that warred inside of me. It was hard not to think that maybe he'd been hoping for more when we made that agreement, too.

But I knew I couldn't daydream about that right now. As reason and logic overpowered my heart, I pulled away from him, the same adrenaline returning from last night. I knew I hadn't slept much, but what if something happened when I was out? What if Brett had somehow managed to get to Liz? It was insane, but that didn't stop me from hurrying to the guest room before I'd had the chance to even wake up all the way.

"Liz?" I knocked on the door and called her name before even thinking to wonder what time it was. "Hey, I know it's early, but I just want to make sure you're okay." No answer. My heart jumped into my throat and I tried to keep my voice steady as I continued. "Can I come in?"

Cam padded up behind me, his brow furrowed in concern. I exchanged one glance with him and--at his single nod--tried the handle. The door wasn't locked, and I kept my gaze averted just in case she'd been changing or something and hadn't heard me.

"Liz?" The tone of Cam's voice was enough to tell me everything I needed to know, but I looked anyway.

The bed was empty, the covers barely wrinkled as if she hadn't slept in it at all. I rushed to the bathroom, desperately hoping though I knew what I'd find. Nothing. She wasn't there. She wasn't anywhere.

"Noah," Cam said, his voice calm and steady--a stark contrast from my racing heart.

I looked in the direction he nodded and saw the open window that led to the fire escape. My heart fractured even further as reality hit me. Liz was gone. She'd gotten scared by the prospect of talking to her father--of being rejected by him--and she'd run, just like last time. I wanted to rage at Cam, to tell him we shouldn't have pushed her, but if this was anyone's fault, it was mine. I should have fought harder for her. I should have made him back down.

Why didn't I make him back down?

"I'll call Grizz," Cam said, already going for his phone, "he’ll get everyone out there looking for her.

I just nodded, my mind racing as I pictured every possible thing that could have happened. I never wanted to be a parent, and now I understood why. It was nerve-wracking enough just caring for a girl who wasn't mine. If anything happened to her...

I drew in a deep breath, trying to calm myself enough to function. My hands gripped the windowsill, and I looked out into the street below as if it might have some answers. All I saw was the phantom image of Brett beating me to a pulp, and Liz up here watching the whole thing. Had she ever really been safe here? I closed my eyes, and tried to ground myself with the sound of Cam's voice in the next room.

Slowly, I managed to get ahold of my composure. And when I wasn't struggling to breathe or thinking the worst, I remembered a conversation she and I had. It was such a small thing. Just a throw-away mention. But it was enough to cut through all of the horrible things that had made their way into my brain.

"I know where she'll be," I said, grabbing Cam before he was even off the phone.

"Hold on that. I'll let you know if we find her."

I handed him my keys as I searched for my shoes. Both of us were still wearing the same wrinkled clothes from last night--the nice clothes we'd worn to the restaurant, sans blazer in my case--and we hadn't had time to shower, but I didn't care. I needed Liz to be where I hoped she'd be. I needed to see she was all right.

"The park," I explained, pulling on a pair of sneakers. "She'll be at the park."

* * *

Cam didn't question me. He just drove to the park, occasionally shooting a glance my way, his brows drawn together in worry. I settled my hand over top of his where it rested on the gear shift, and that seemed to calm him. Honestly, it calmed me, too, and made the sudden ringing of my phone a little easier to bear. That was, until I picked up.

"Hello?"

"Is this Noah Blair?“ an unfamiliar voice asked.

"This is him. Who's calling?"

"My name's Officer Grant. We met last night, after your accident."

I drew in a breath, my free hand starting to shake so much I nearly dropped the phone. Cam squeezed the other, but thankfully he didn't slow down or pull off the road. No matter what this man said, we needed to get to Liz.

"Right, absolutely. Any news...?" I asked, holding my breath.

"I spoke to Brett Collins earlier this morning. He claims he was in the office at that time last night, and his secretary confirms it."

Of course. Brett probably threatened her, too. I closed my eyes and tried not to let too much of my frustration bleed through. It wasn't this man's fault. "So that's it, then?"

"Well, I'll be honest, Mr. Blair, my gut says there's more here than what Mr. Collins is telling me." At least I wasn't the only one who got bad vibes from Brett. Hopefully this officer wouldn't ignore them the way I had. "Now, I can't bring any of that before a judge, and the station's not going to let me devote a lot of resources to what might be a dead end, but I wanted you to know I'm not crossing him off my list. Not yet, anyway."

"Thank you," I said earnestly, "I really appreciate that."

"I'll be in touch," he said, and I could hear the sounds of a busy office in the background. The line went dead shortly after.

Cam gave my hand another gentle squeeze. "What was that about?"

"Brett gave the cops some bullshit alibi. The officer who called says he's still going to look into it."

Even as I explained, I was distracted. My gaze settled on street signs and landmarks, with every passing moment making my hope and worry rise in tandem. Cam didn't slow down; he didn't ask me if I needed him to pull over. He didn't even ask me anything more about Brett or the phone call. He just drove, and I told myself I'd make it up to him later, once I knew Liz was safe.

We got to the park around ten in the morning, and I jumped out of the car before he even put it in park. I heard him call after me, but my attention was fixed on the small plot of grass that stretched out before me, a well-worn dirt path leading from a slide to a swing set—a swing set that was currently occupied.

Breath whooshed out of me in one shaky exhale as I recognized Liz on the middle swing. She was barely moving, momentum keeping her swinging back and forth in a lazy pattern. Her hands gripped the chains on either side of her, and her legs moved just enough to keep the swing going. When I looked back at Cam, he'd spotted her, too.

"Go. I'll keep an eye out over here."

Adding one more item to the long list of things I needed to thank him for, I approached the swing set as casually as I could. I had no idea what it looked like for a man to walk with some kind of agenda, but I tried desperately not to be that man. I stayed in Liz's peripheral, though I know she saw me. Her green eyes flicked over to me before they faced forward again, and I took a seat in the empty swing beside her.

For a long time, neither of us said anything. All I could hear was the creak of the swing set, and the sound of her shoes and mine as they skimmed the ground. I had no idea what to say to her, so at some point I just started talking.

"When I came out to my parents, my dad didn't talk to me for three years. After I moved out of the house, the first time he called me was to let me know Nana died. And to tell me it would be better if I didn't go to the funeral."

It felt like forever ago, but really it had only been a few years. Somehow, not being able to say goodbye to my grandma still hurt more than my dad shutting me out completely.

Liz glanced over at me, then down at the ground. My own gaze turned that way, and I watched my shoes as they rose and lowered in front of me with the movements of the swing. "My mom still calls. Once or twice a month. We don't ever talk about my sexuality or my job or anything like that." I shrugged a little. "It's better that way, for both of us."

"If this is supposed to convince me to call my dad, it's really not working," Liz finally said. The corner of her lips betrayed the slightest twitch, and I smiled.

"Not that part of it, no. But I can't imagine how my life would've played out if they didn't know at all. My mom pretends like that conversation never happened, but that's her choice. Not mine. They both know the truth--they know who I am. If they can't accept it..." I shrugged. "Their loss."

Liz's hands tightened around the chains, and she leaned forward in her swing, shifting the momentum. "You're stronger than I am if you can handle that."

"Oh, honey." I gave her a sad smile. "I'm really not. I think about my parents all the time. I wonder if I could've been a better son; if I could've done something different to make them accept me as I am. It's not that I don't ever doubt myself, it's just that I know me. I know who I am, who I want to be, and everything I do goes back to that."

"I'm not even sure I know who I am," Liz admitted softly. Her toes dug into the dirt below her swing, and she came to a stop.

"Maybe. But I think we both know who you're not." Stopping my own swing, I leaned in and spoke quietly. "You're not this person you've been trying to be. Right?"

She nodded, not looking at me.

"And if you're ever going to figure out who you are, it has to start with you being honest with yourself--and the people you care about. What they do with that honesty is their business, but calling your dad, telling him what you know, deep down? That's for you, sweetie. Not him."

When she looked over at me, her eyes were red-rimmed and tear tracks streaked down her cheeks. I had no idea how long she'd been there, but I could imagine the torment she'd put herself through. "You really believe that?"

"With all my heart," I said, reaching for one of her hands. She didn't pull away from me this time, and I gave her hand a little squeeze. "You're right. It sounds a lot easier than it is. But maybe your dad will surprise you. Some people can do that, you know? You put your faith and your trust in them, and they come through. Even when everyone else lets you down." My heart squeezed in my chest as I instantly thought of Cam. I searched him out, finding him sitting at a picnic table nearby, his gaze fixed on me, too. Had he heard that? Was he thinking the same thing? "You deserve the chance to have your father in your life, Liz. And if he turns you down after that... at least you'll know so you can move on."

She was quiet for a long time, and her hands moved lower on the chains, her thumbs hooked over the base of the swing. I didn't say anything, and neither did Cam from his watchful spot at the picnic table. Finally I heard the sound of the chains rattling and the seat snapping against itself as she stood.

"Okay. I'll do it." She let out a ragged breath, and looked from me to Cam. "Can we just... do it now? I'll lose my nerve if we wait."

"I'll set it up," Cam said with a nod, swiping through his phone. "My office will connect you, so he won't know where you're calling from."

"Just remember, Liz, this is for you," I said. "If at any point it’s too much for you to handle, just hang up. We won't force you to stay on the line."

We both moved over to the picnic table. I sat beside her, my hand rubbing soothing circles on her back as Cam set up the call. He took the phone from his ear and pressed his hand over it to cover the microphone before holding it out to Liz.

"Are you ready?"

She swallowed and looked between us, an uneasy smile on her lips. "No," she said with a laugh, "but let's do this."