Page 45 of The Way Home

Caleb smiled. “Yes, it’s called anime. You actually… really like it.”

“I do?” Jamie sounded horrified, and Caleb remembered having this conversation years ago.

“Yeah.” Caleb chuckled. “Trust me, give it a shot.” He plated their eggs and toast, then pulled the sriracha out of the fridge for himself. Sliding the dish over to Jamie, he said, “Eat up.”

“Wow,” Jamie said, swiveling back around. “Do you usually cook for us?”

“Yeah, usually. I love to cook. And you…” He bit his lip to keep from sayingsuck at it.

Jamie’s cheeks flushed. “Oh, I know. I’m a moron in the kitchen.”

An adorable moron.

Caleb sat down and dug into his food, trying to keep himself from staring at Jamie’s sleepy face. He loved him like this—soft and cozy. He wanted to hold him to his chest and never let go.

“Is that good?” Jamie eyed the sriracha suspiciously as Caleb drizzled it over his eggs. “On eggs?”

“Yes,” Caleb said. “But it’s too spicy for you.”

“Mm, makes sense.” Jamie was a wimp with spice, the sweetheart. He wanted to like it, but even a little bit of heat had his eyes watering. He pressed his glasses up his nose and went to town on his plain eggs.

“So, I know I said I had the next few days off,” Caleb said. “But my assistant athletic trainer is sick. So I might have to go in tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Jamie scratched his head. “That’s fine. You don’t have to, like, entertain me.”

“I thought maybe you’d want to come with me. To practice. It will be super chill; it’s just a captain-led practice. Some of the women bring their kids sometimes. It’s actually pretty fun.”

You used to come all the time.

“At the Chelsea stadium?” Jamie asked.

“Yeah. Again, super chill. Doctor Wilson said you could go out a bit, as long as it isn’t stressful. And it’s supposed to be pretty nice tomorrow. Cold but sunny, I think.”

Jamie chewed on his lower lip, then took another sip of coffee. Caleb knew the telltale signs of Jamie’s nerves. The way he picked at his fingernails or sucked his top teeth. He was doing all of them, currently, and Caleb tried to tamp down the little bit of hope that was inflating in his chest.

“No pressure—”

“Okay,” Jamie said with a nod. “Yes. I’d like to come.”

“Okay.” Caleb couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face. It stayed plastered there even as Jamie turned back to the TV and cautiously watched their show.

Chapter 11

“Why are youwalking like my granny?” Sally asked right before she embraced Caleb in a big hug.

Caleb laughed into her strawberry blonde. “Why are you still the meanest Brit I know?”

“That can’t be right. We are all bitches.”

Caleb snorted. He missed Sally. With a grunt, he dropped the enormous netted bag of footballs on the ground. “I’m still sleeping on the couch. It’s killing my back, Sal. Hurts like a motherfucker. I feel as old as your granny.”

Her eyebrows tugged together in confusion. “Why are you still sleeping on the sofa?” Her jaw dropped. “You mean you two haven’tslepttogether yet? No sex atall?”

“Shush.” Caleb’s eyes flicked to Jamie, who, blessedly, was too distracted with Ellie to hear. “Shut up, okay? We are taking it slow.”

“Why?” Sally looked horrified. “Did the doctor say he couldn’t—?”

“No, Sal, he’sallowedto. We just haven’t.”