Page 13 of The Way Home

How did someone offer a blowjob? Caleb had been so smoothabout it, but for the life of him, Jamie couldn’t remember what he’d said.

“Do you want me to… return the favor?”

Caleb eased himself into the sheets, pulling the comforter up. “No,” he said, turning toward Jamie and propping his head up on his arm. “I’d rather spoon you while we go to sleep. Do you like to cuddle?”

“Yes, but I—”

“Great.” Caleb gently steered Jamie onto his side and wrapped his arms around him from behind, pressing his clothed body against Jamie’s bare back. He kissed the back of his shoulder blade before nuzzling into the back of his neck.

Jamie frowned. “But… why?”

Silence settled over the room, the only sound the creak of someone moving around upstairs.

“Because as much as I like the image of your lips wrapped around my cock… I’d like to take you on a real date first.”

Chapter 3

“Earth to Caleb!”

Sally’s voice pulled him from his daydreaming, where he’d apparently been staring at the neat rows of foam rollers lining the wall of the trainer’s office. Daydreaming about a hot, often flustered-looking librarian.

“Sorry, what’d you say?”

Sally’s freckled nose scrunched as she laughed. “What’s got you so distracted? I just came up here for ice. Coach wants me to bring it to Angie. If I don’t get down there soon, he’ll have my arse.”

“Right,” Caleb muttered, crossing to the ice bin and scooping some into a bag. “Sorry about that.”

The Chelsea women’s coach, Halcombe, was tough on the girls. Caleb had clocked him immediately as someone not to get on the wrong side of. Week one, he’d watched him scream at the Head Athletic Trainer over something completely trivial.

“So what’s got your head in the clouds?” Sally leaned against the doorframe, ice bag in hand. “Drama? Hot date?”

Caleb lifted one eyebrow. “Isn’t Angie waiting?”

“Ugh.” She rolled her eyes and turned. “Fine. But let’s go out this weekend! We need to hang out more.”

A loud“Jones!”came from the bottom of the stairs—Halcombe, no doubt—and Sally hopped to it.

Taking a mental inventory of everything else he had to do before leaving, Caleb pulled out his phone and checked his messages.

Still no reply from Jamie.

It wasn’t like him to get this attached after a one-night stand. Was last night even a one-night stand? If he gave a blowjob, refused one in return, and then spent the night spooning a hot British guy?

Either way, it wasn’t like Caleb to get like this. He’d dated men before, and he certainly wasn’t afraid to tell someone he liked them, butallday he’d been thinking about Jamie—waiting for a reply, overthinking how long he’d taken to text that morning and the way he’d worded it.

Coffee this week?

As he picked up the last of the training equipment and put it away, he kicked himself for being such a dork about this. He didn’t play games. He asked for what he wanted and was fine when someone didn’t want the same.

He wanted to take Jamie on a date, so he’dasked.

After it became clear just how nervous Jamie had been back at his apartment, Caleb had made up his mind they wouldn’t be going any further. The last thing he wanted was for Jamie to feel pressured into anything he wasn’t ready for.

So he’d happily gotten on his knees for him, given him an exceptional blowjob (not to brag), and held him for the rest of the night. Sure, Caleb was horny as hell, and probably poked him in the back all night with his boner, but most importantly, he wanted any partner he had to feel safe. And if that meant not getting intimate, or not seeing him again, that was fine.

The only thing was: he couldn’t stomach the idea of not seeing Jamie again.

Sure, the man was sexy and smart and extremely fuckable—but there was something else about him that Caleb couldn’t put his finger on. Something intriguing about the way he lit up talking about history books, or his job at the library. And something so adorable about how flustered he got at the simplest caress of Caleb’s hand.