Page 28 of The Way Home

A small smile tugged at Jamie’s lips.

Settling back against the headboard, Caleb guided him between his legs until Jamie was tucked comfortably against his chest, his back resting against Caleb’s torso.

“That was amazing.” Caleb kissed the soft skin beneath his ear. “You’re incredible.”

An adorable little blush dusted Jamie’s cheeks, perfectly complementing his rumpled curls. He turned slightly and kissed Caleb’s bicep, then let his eyes linger on the scar stretching across his shoulder. Blinking a few times, he closed his eyes and turned his head forward with a sigh.

Caleb’s heart hadn’t felt this light in years.

Jamie slumped back into Caleb’s chest, his breathing beginning to slow as Caleb traced lazy circles on his hips with his thumbs.

“Are you sure I can stay?” Jamie asked in a sweet, sleepy voice. “I can go. I just…I need a moment.”

“You’re sleeping here,” Caleb said into his jaw, pressing gentle kisses there. “If you want,” Caleb clarified. “Like, I’m not kidnapping you. I just… want you to stay.”

A small dimple formed in Jamie’s cheek, and Caleb had to place the pad of his finger there.

“Okay,” Jamie sighed.

A few quiet breaths passed between them before he added, “I’ve never felt like this before.”

For a moment, all he could do was look at Jamie and marvel at the impossible fact that this person existed, that he was here…

He pulled Jamie closer, his heart swelling as Jamie settled fully into his arms, eyes fluttering shut.

“Me either, J.”

Chapter 6

In the firstfew months of dating, Caleb learned that holding Jamie’s hand was its own kind of language.

When Jamie was nervous—likeanytimehe ordered coffee when they were out—he squeezed. When flustered, Jamie’s palm grew warm and slightly damp. When Jamie was lost in thought, he simply held onto Caleb’s hand, gently tracing idle shapes along the soft skin of Caleb’s hand.

If Jamie appreciated something, he touched it.

Like the flower petals of the bouquets Caleb bought him. Or the cardboard sleeves of the coffee cups Caleb left with notes anytime he stayed over.

Jamie would trace the words with the tip of his finger, as if that would commit every single detail to memory.

The most expressive communication of Jamie’s hand language was excitement. When excited, Caleb gotdragged.Like he had at the Christmas markets in London in December. Booth by booth, Jamie tugged Caleb, smiling the entire time, to every single piece of handmade art he could find.

Caleb had absolutely zero shame in being hauled around by his boyfriend. Anywhere Jamie wanted to go, Caleb would happily follow.

Because instead of things getting boring between them—like,admittedly, every relationship before this—Caleb found himself falling harder and harder for Jamie Collins.

Every sweet, nerdy little facet of him.

He loved learning new ways Jamie expressed his feelings. Like when he got tipsy, Jamie becameparticularlyhandsy.

One night, Jamie came home tipsy on rosé after being summoned out with Ellie and her friends for some kind of “girl emergency.” When he’d arrived back at Caleb’s place, he couldn’t get Caleb out of his clothes fast enough.

Caleb happily obliged.

He became obsessed with the way Jamie came apart beneath his hands, each time better than the last. Whether he got to fuck Jamie, finger him, or give him a lazy, morning blowjob—it didn’t matter what it was. Caleb couldn’t think of anything more perfect than the tension of Jamie’s stomach as he orgasmed down Caleb’s throat, hands fisted tight in his hair, his bare chest shining with sweat. Or the way Jamie’s confidence had begun to bloom, how he reached for what he wanted, how he asked, sometimesbegged.

Jesus, it was fucking addictive.

The language of Jamie’s hands became Caleb’s main focus of study, and before long, he could read it almost as easily as spoken words.