Page 60 of The Way Home

“I’m brilliant,” Jamie said into sweaty palms. Suddenly, he was very,verytired.

“I settled the bill. We can head out whenever you’re ready.”

Jamie nodded and tried his best to move his legs as Caleb led him outside into the bitter cold. The frigid air helped, and as they walked towards the Tube, he felt his mind clear.

“I made youa cup of tea,” Caleb called from the kitchen as he poured a drop of milk into Jamie’s favorite mug. It had a stack of books painted on the side and was horribly chipped. Jamie refused to part with it.

“Thank you,” Jamie called from the bedroom. As Caleb approached, he set the book he’d been reading down and turned, accepting the tea from Caleb’s hands. He looked cozy and warm in his flannel pajamas. The lilies from the restaurant were in a vase beside the bed. Jamie insisted they bring them home.

“Thank you for everything tonight. I had a wonderful time.”

Caleb resisted the urge to laugh. What a fucking disaster. Jamie had hardly spoken two words on the train ride back to their flat, and Caleb wanted to punch a wall.

It wasn’t Timothy’s fault. And, to his credit, he had feltreallyfucking bad once Caleb explained the situation. But he still hated that the night ended that way.

“I can drive you to your appointment tomorrow,” Caleb said, gently sitting on the edge of the bed. “It’s on my way to work.”

“Okay. What doctors do I have to see tomorrow?”

Caleb pulled out his phone and opened up the appointment app. “You have occupational therapy and then physical therapy.”

“Right,” Jamie said, chewing on his lip.

Caleb frowned. “That okay?”

“Is all of this therapy… covered by NHS?”

“Yep,” Caleb said quickly. “All covered.” Technically, the National Health Service covered care for traumatic brain injurieslike Jamie’s. That wasn’t a lie. Now, there may have beensomenonessential fees that Caleb was paying for out of pocket. But Jamie didn’t need to know that.

Jamie’s eyebrows pinched together, like he was doing mental math, but after a few moments, his face relaxed. Sipping his tea, he leaned back into the pillows that were propped up on the headboard.

“Hey, Caleb?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really sorry about your mum. I don’t think I said that enough tonight.”

Caleb’s heart squeezed in his chest. “Thank you.”

Jamie scooted down the bed and turned toward Caleb, trying to catch his eye. “If you ever want to talk about her, I’d like to hear,” he said quietly. “I want to know everything I can—about her.” He hesitated, then placed a hand on Caleb’s arm. “And you.”

The warmth of Jamie’s hand seeped through the fabric of his shirt. He hadn’t bothered to change when they’d gotten home, jumping straight into making Jamie tea instead, and now he could feel the lingering arousal from dinner stirring again.

His mind flicked back to the week after his mom died. Jamie had shown up unannounced, knocking on his door with a bottle of non-alcoholic wine in hand and a basket of food.

“Caleb,” Jamie whispered, voice thick with desire. Caleb shivered as Jamie slid his hand to his wrist and closed it there.

Jamie used to joke that Caleb had him memorized. He could read the man like a book. And now, the way his bright green eyes were wide and open, Caleb saw the longing in them.

Fuck, he was horny for Jamie.

The pout on his lips was fucking irresistible, and in another world, Caleb would pull Jamie onto his lap and spend the next few hours making him moan. But, this wasn’t another world. This wasn’t a world where Jamie was ready for that. And maybe Caleb wasn’t either.

Standing abruptly, Caleb almost knocked the tea from the side table. “Goodnight, Jamie,” he said quickly, turning to the livingroom. His bedroom for God knew how much longer. “I—uh, I had fun tonight.”

“Right. Uh, goodnight.” The disappointment in Jamie’s voice made him want to punch a wall.

Closing the bedroom door behind him, Caleb sat in the living room and stared at the wall. When he was sure Jamie was asleep in bed, he snuck outside for his first cigarette in months.