They left me mostly alone for the rest of the trip back to the marina. Chris tried to include me in their conversation, but I was too riled up and exhausted at the same time to contribute. At one point, Dante eyed Chris with a clear warning. Dante seemed to understand better than the other two did, or maybe he simply didn't care if I participated or not.

The fear of their judgment shut me down from within, creating a strange tension that held until we got back to the villa. Ignoring the others, I retreated to my room and crashed onto the soft bed. They could hang out with each other—they could do anything they wanted as long as they left me alone.

Sometime later, footsteps announced a visitor walking up the stairs. Bracing myself for another round of hounding, I shut my eyes and turned to the wall. The person paused outside my door—indecisive. No knock. Nothing.

When he padded away, I let out a relieved breath and tried to forget how hungry I was. The light lunch we'd had on the boat wouldn't be enough to sustain me throughout the evening, but what choice did I have? I had choices, of course, but they were all bad ones.

Another set of footsteps. Each and every one of them sounded with startling clarity. They came closer, and this time, I was pretty sure that I would have to face the person standing on the other side.

The knock was soft at first, then firmer. "Adam. I brought some food."

Cameron.

My belly rumbled with need, refusing to be unheard.

Without replying, I got up, dragged my feet to the door and opened it a fraction, only enough to see a sliver of the man outside. Cameron offered me a plate, attempting some kind of a smile. He appeared nervous, standing back as if ready to leave.

I reluctantly widened the opening then took the food. "Thanks."

"Can I come in for a sec?"

I tensed, remembering every detail of humiliation from the incident earlier. "I'm really tired." The food didn't look half as tempting anymore, and I left the plate on the desk for later.

"I want to show you something. Please," he replied, perhaps thinking that would change my mind.

My hand dropped from the door, not to let him in, but he took that as a sign and entered. By the time I had decided on what to say, he was already inside and settled into the plaited chair by the window.

I remained standing. If I sat down, it would only mean that I accepted his intrusion. It was impossible to stand still, however, so I began to pace, my hands fidgeting.

"Adam, please sit down."

"No." I was waiting for him to tell me to leave Gabriel and how stupid I'd been to have stayed for as long as I had.

"Please, this is hard for me, too."

Shaking my head, I turned and forgot what to say when I saw his pained expression. I sat on the bed, wrinkling the cover beneath me as I twisted my hands.

"I'm sorry for pushing you, I really am. I forget that these things take time."

He sounded uncomfortable, but I wasn't about to say that it was okay—because it wasn't. I hadn't wanted him to see me like that. Him least of all, in fact.

From the corner of my eye, I saw him remove his shirt. "What are you doing?"

"I want to show you something." He stood up, straightening his back only to hunch slightly. "This is where my mom's boyfriend burned me with a cigar."

I swallowed hard before I glanced at his chest. He was pointing at a small mark right next to his collarbone.

"This scar is from when he threw a broken bottle at me." His finger ran along a light line across his stomach. "More cigar burns." He held out his hand, studying the scars beneath the soft light from the ceiling lamp.

My anger pulsed at the signs of past abuse. I rose and snatched his hand, wondering how I could have missed the light circles littering his skin.

"How old were you?" I asked.

"Seven. It was a year after my dad left. Mom was lonely and found the wrong guy."

"Did he hit her?"

"No. He controlled her, and when he couldn't control me, he gave me these. Told me he'd hurt Mom if I talked, so I kept silent."

My heart ached even as anger boiled within me. Who did that to a child?

"I'm so sorry."

"Adam. These are old scars. He can't hurt me, but... Damn it, Adam. Do you know how painful it is to see you hurting?" This time, Cameron was the one who sounded desperate.

My hold around his hand tightened. I could hardly breathe. "I don't. I don't know what to do."

He pulled me into his embrace, steady and sure. "Right now, you don't have to do anything."

I was falling. Crashing. "Why can't he just love me?"

"I don't know. I really don't know. You deserve so much better, Adam. So much better."

I clung to him, afraid my knees would give way if he left me. I heard his voice in the background, but the words escaped me. Instead, I focused on the sound of his steady heartbeat. The rhythm became something to latch onto—a mantra that settled around me like a blanket. Hiding beneath it, I tried to block my racing emotions.

"You're strong, Adam. You'll get through this."

"How?"

"You just do it. No one can tell you how." At least he wasn't giving me platitudes.

I tried to breathe slower, shutting down in the only way I knew how to do. Gradually, I regained my senses, realizing that my hands were touching bare skin. Uncomfortable, I let go and squirmed out of his hold. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Cameron and I couldn't get closer, not when I was vulnerable.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you, but I...I don't think this is a good idea."

"Adam, I'm here as a friend, nothing more."

My eyes found his warm amber ones. Friends. Had I read the signals wrong? Of course. All those dreams had fooled me. I almost scoffed at my stupidity, but the sound stuck in my throat. Who would want someone already broken?

"Good." The pain was endless. Everywhere.

He plucked his shirt from the chair and put it on. "You should eat something."

Glancing at the food, I wondered if I could stomach anything.

"Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow."

Cameron didn't move from his spot in the middle of the room, but I tried to ignore his presence. He had made his point, and we were done for the night. He had brought me to the edge, he had got my confession, and now I had to deal with my failed relationship alone. He had said it. There was nothing he could do to help, no words to say.

It's all up to me.

Friends. I could deal with that. It was what I wanted, after all. It was what I had told myself all along.

"Adam. I'm sorry for pushing you."

"You're forgiven."

"Okay."

I studied him beneath my lashes, trying to figure out why he remained. My gaze drifted to the faint circles on his left hand again. It was too much, too heavy. I couldn't deal with everything all at once even if I wanted to say something to make him understand that I cared.

Cameron let out a soft sigh, shoulders falling. "I hope you can sleep. We'll be going out tomorrow as well, so try to rest."

"I will."

"Good."

He seemed unable to leave, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He shook his head once, then he looked straight at me. "Goodnight, Adam." With that he left, leaving me with a hollow sadness that pulsed with the rhythm of his heart.