Page 65 of The Way Home

“It’s alright.” Caleb fidgeted under the scrutiny. The truth was his shoulder hurt like hell, but he was too stubborn to rest it. It always ached when he worked it too hard, and normally, he did take good care of it, but lately, he needed to get his energy and frustration out more than he needed a functioning shoulder. Mostly, his sexual frustration.

And the source of that sexual frustration was standing in front of him now, looking like a hot professor.

Desire pulsed between them as Jamie stepped closer. Caleb’s fingers twitched at his side, unsure whether to pull him in or push him away.

His whole body had been caught in a constant war lately—torn between his need to protect his heart and his burning want for Jamie. He wanted more than Jamie could give him right now.

Before the accident, that heat in Jamie’s eyes ignited a burning fire in Caleb, often leading to Jamie pressed against a wall, a whimpering mess. Or held onto the mattress, begging to be fucked.

If Caleb let himself become aroused, his brain couldn’t tell the difference betweenthatJamie and this one. This one wasn’t ready. He didn’t know Caleb like that.

At least until his memories came back.

Even so, the heat in Jamie’s eyes right now was the same irresistible shade of dark green that Caleb recognized. But he reminded himself that sex didn’t mean the same thing to Jamie anymore. This was simply a release for him. A way to work through the mood swings and anxiety from after the accident.

It hurt like hell, but seeing the anxiety in Jamie hurt way more.

Caleb’s chest heaved as Jamie stepped closer and brushed his fingertips over the coarse skin of Caleb’s shoulder.

“You still haven’t told me how you got these scars.”

Caleb inhaled at the contact. “Shoulder surgery.”

“From football?” Jamie’s green eyes flicked up to his. He could always tell when Caleb was holding back.

Caleb swallowed and nodded. The pine smell of Jamie’s aftershave was making his head fuzzy.

“Did someone, um, tackle you too hard?” Jamie knew nothing about American football.

“Many someones, yes.”

His brows pulled together. “Is that allowed?”

Caleb shrugged. Jamie didn’t need to know that it was his own teammates who had done it to him, while his father watched.

Jamie frowned, reaching forward to trace it with the tip of his finger, sending zaps of electricity down Caleb’s arm. “Do you need to see a doctor? I can tell it’s bothering you.”

“How can you tell?”

Heavy-lidded eyes locked onto his. “You wince when you reach into the upper cabinets. And anytime I…” He swallowed. “Anytime I put weight on it, you look like you’re in pain.”

Caleb reached out and brushed a curl from Jamie’s eyes. Jamie’s breath hitched as they both thought back to last night—Jamieperched up on his knees, hands on Caleb’s shoulders, Caleb jerking him off. It hadn’t felt great on Caleb’s shoulder, but, at the time, was pretty fucking fantastic.

“What if I like it when you put weight on it?” Caleb said, dropping his voice a little lower.

“I shouldn’t have—” Jamie’s breath caught, but the way his pupils dilated gave him away. “I didn’t realize it was hurting you that much, Caleb.”

Caleb leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Worth it.” His hand, on its own, slid up Jamie’s back and into his hair. It was so soft, and now he was practically pressed up against him—sweat and all.

Jamie’s eyelashes fluttered as he melted into Caleb. His eyes locked onto Caleb’s lips, and he could feel Jamie’s hard cock digging into his thigh.

Caleb brushed his lips against Jamie’s jaw. “You want to go upstairs? Maybe to the bedroom?”

“Y-yes.Please.”

Caleb couldn’t say no to such a sweet request.

Every night that week, Caleb found some excuse to go into their bedroom to see how Jamie was doing. Check in on his symptoms, bring him a cup of tea. But then Jamie would give him those bedroom eyes, and it was over.