Chapter 28
Worst Wingmen Ever
CALEB
The sounds of the New Year's party are pulsing through the floor beneath me as I stare at my ceiling. After failing to talk to James, I couldn't stomach going back to the celebration to watch everyone after they all paired up for midnight kisses. So here I am, hiding like a coward.
Except I'm not wallowing. I'm on a mission.
Flipping open my laptop, I crack my knuckles. What I'm about to do crosses several ethical lines I've always respected, but my father crossed them first. I need to know if he dug into James's past and used it to manipulate me.
Accessing my father’s home computer isn't particularly difficult. Over the years, I've set up all his security systems, installed his firewalls, configured his VPN, and created his passwords. He thinks I did it to protect him. I did, but I also left myself a backdoor, just in case.
"Don't you dare…" I click through his mess of folders. “Lecture me about integrity ever again." I’m talking to an empty room like he could actually hear me.
Starting with his email, searching for James's name. Nothing. Then I try "Hunter" and "Rainbow Haven," with the same result. Either he was careful, or I'm wrong about it. Wait. There's a folder labelled "CH3 Potential Concerns." CH3. Caleb Huntington the Third.
A folder about me. Fucking Lovely.
The door swings open, and I quickly minimize the window as Jaren bounces in, looking flushed from the party.
"Man, it's after midnight! Come back downstairs!" He tilts his head when he sees my expression. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing... Research." I wave vaguely at my laptop.
Jaren flops onto his bed, eyeing me suspiciously. "Dude, it's New Year's Eve and you're what... hacking into government servers?"
Pausing for a second before I decide I can trust him. "No, just my family's computers. There's a difference."
"Yeah, one gets you arrested, the other disowned."
A snort escapes me. Dammit. Jaren may be perpetually cheerful, but he's not stupid.
"So let me see if I’ve got this straight," he continues, sitting up. "You broke up with a guy you're in love with because your dad said some stuff, and now you're breaking federal laws to prove your dad's a liar?"
"It's not federal—"
"That's not the part you should be focusing on, man."
He has a point. I close my laptop with a sigh.
"Look," Jaren says, his usual pep replaced with surprising seriousness, "I don't want to overstep, but you've been miserable since it happened. I should know, I live with you. And the way you look at him when you think no one's watching..." He shrugs. "That's not 'I want to be friends' territory."
"I know." Saying it out loud is scary, but it’s what I want. "I messed up. I apologized tonight, but it's not enough."
"Why not? What did you even fight about?"
My fingers drum against my thigh. No one's heard the whole story yet. "My father basically investigated James's background without telling me, then fed me information designed to make me doubt him. And I..." Swallowing hard. "I believed it."
Jaren whistles low. "Damn. That's cold."
"It gets worse." My nails bite into my palms. Physical pain's easier to deal with than this. "I accused James of using me to get to my family's money and connections." The memory makes me wince. "I was so afraid of being used that I didn't stop to think about who I was actually accusing."
"Man, that's rough," Jaren says, and somehow the understatement makes me laugh.
"Yeah, it was a stellar moment in the Caleb Huntington relationship playbook."
Jaren studies me. "So what now? You apologized, he didn't accept...?"
"He said he forgives me but only wants to be friends now." Running a hand through my hair, tugging at the sides until they stick straight out, held by whatever gel's left. "Which is fair. But, I... don't want that."
Jaren's eyes light up. "So you have a plan?"
"Working on it."
He settles in, clearly not planning to leave. "How can I help?"
"You can't. I don't want anyone picking sides."
"I'm not picking sides. I think you're both being idiots." Jaren grins. "But you were a lot less... you... when you were getting laid regularly."
A surprised laugh bursts out of me.
"What?" Jaren shrugs innocently. "You didn't come back some nights, and the walls in this place are thin. Plus, a happy Caleb plays less depressing music."
"Jesus Christ." My smile won't go away. Dammit.
"Seriously, though," he says, "how can I help? I want my roommate back, the one who occasionally smiled and didn't glare at me when I said good morning."
"I never glared at you."
"Dude, your morning face could curdle milk."
Throwing a pillow at him doesn't work when he easily catches it.
"See? That's the Caleb I pledged with. Not this moping robot who's been haunting our room."
His sincerity sucker-punches me. I hadn't realized Jaren was paying attention, let alone cared.
"I'm sorry… I've been a terrible roommate."
"Nah." He tosses the pillow back to me. "You've been heartbroken. Different thing."
Studying him for a moment, I weigh my options. "Can you keep a secret?"
"Like a vault." He mimes locking his lips.
"I want to fix things with James. I..." The words catch in my throat. I've barely admitted this to myself. "I think I'm in love with him… I’m in love with him and I want him back. I'll do whatever it takes."
Jaren's expression softens. "Well, shit. That's worth fighting for."
"Yeah, but I don't know how. I'm not exactly..." Both my hands do some weird jazz-hands thing that makes me want to die. "...good at this stuff."
"You're overthinking it. What does James care about?"
The question is so simple that it surprises me somehow: "He cares about people. He's about making a difference. He volunteers for LGBTQ+ youth all over. It's important to him."
Jaren nods encouragingly. "So start there."
"I've been working on something for Rainbow Haven House."
"That youth shelter place where we did the gingerbread?"
"Yeah. James is a volunteer. They need repairs badly. I've lined up a contractor who has a lesbian daughter. She's coming next week to assess and donate some professional work."
"Did you tell James?"
Turning back to my laptop. "I want it to be a surprise. But I also don't want it to seem like I'm trying to buy his forgiveness."
"Is that what you're doing?" Jaren asks, his tone neutral.
"No!" The word comes out too fast. "At least... I don't think so. I genuinely want to help. When I was there after Christmas, I saw how rundown the place is, and I know they're tight on funding."
Jaren studies me. "Are you doing this for James or the kids?"
The question is one I should have been expecting, but it still surprises me. I know a month ago, I'd have answered differently.
"For the kids. But I wouldn't know about the place without James. He loves RHH, and I..." I swallow hard. "I love him. So I want to help."
Jaren nods, looking impressed. "That's pretty cool, Huntington." He stands, stretching. "I'll tell the guys to back off on the whole taking sides thing. You fix what you broke."
"Thanks."
As he reaches the door, he turns back. "For what it's worth, I think James would be an idiot not to give you another shot. You made a mistake, but at least you're trying to make it right. That's more than a lot of people do."
His words stick with me after he leaves.
Opening my laptop again, returning to the "CH3 Potential Concerns" folder.
Inside, I find a series of reports on James, his foster care history, notes from interviews with distant connections, and financial assessments.
My stomach churns as I read how clinically they dissected his life.
The worst is an email thread between my father and someone named Richards—presumably his "investigator."
Subject: Re: Hunter Background
C—
As requested, focus on unstable home life and financial motivations. Subject has a history in the foster system (details attached). Currently independent but with minimal assets/income. Recommend leveraging CH3's insecurities about being used for family connections.
—R
Dad's reply is brief: Perfect. I'll handle it from here.
I head downstairs and make my resolution; it's after 1 am, but it should still count. I'm getting James back and cutting my father's puppet strings once and for all.
I get to Friday's frat meeting ten minutes early, completely on purpose, and grab a seat where I can watch James's usual spot without being obvious. Drew catches my eye as he sets up, giving me a knowing look, but mercifully, he says nothing.
Rechecking my phone kills about 30 seconds. The contractor confirmed everything is set for tomorrow, but my nerves are still jangling. What if James doesn't show up? What if he does, but won't even look at me?
"Nervous?" Drew asks quietly as he arranges papers beside me.
"No." It's automatic to lie when someone asks you a dumb question.
Drew raises an eyebrow.
"Fine. Yes. Is it that obvious?"
"Only to anyone with eyes." He straightens up. "Look, I'm not getting involved in... whatever this is. But as president, I have a vested interest in both of you being functional human beings again."
"We're functional,"
"James has been coding for 72 hours straight, and you've been walking around looking like someone kicked your puppy. That's not functional, Caleb."
Before I can respond, the brothers begin filtering in. Some give me sympathetic nods; others pretend everything's normal with painful, obvious obviousness. Cameron pats my shoulder as he passes, like I'm a terminal patient.
It's hard to keep my eyes on my phone until I sense rather than see James enter the room. He takes his usual seat, pointedly engrossed in conversation with Tyler.
Drew calls the meeting to order, but he clears his throat dramatically before diving into the agenda.
"Before we start, a new house rule. No moping in common areas. Take it to your rooms or take a walk. The collective sighing is affecting house morale."
Everyone looks pointedly at James and me.