Chapter 19
Caleb
Nash is waiting for me to call. He texted an hour ago to say the house felt too quiet without the kids since they’re at their mom’s house.
I told him I’d let him know when I finish reading to Sam, who’s nearly asleep but isn’t ready to stop fighting it just yet.
He’s curled into my side, blanket pulled to his chin.
“Just one more page,” he mumbles with barely open eyes.
“Alright,” I whisper, flipping the page. My voice drops to a softer tone to read to him, and a minute later, his breathing finally evens out.
Even though I can’t wait to talk to Nash, I stay by Sam’s side a little longer, brushing my hand through his hair.
These moments don’t last forever. He won’t always want me to read to him or sit in his bed with him or lean against me when he’s tired.
So I let my hand rest there for a bit longer, soaking it in before I go talk to the other person who’s started taking up space in my heart.
When I finally slip out of bed and make my way down the hall to my room, I climb under the covers and call.
“Hey.” Nash’s voice beams through the phone.
“Hey, sorry that took so long. Sam wanted a second chapter of his book. Then a third.”
Nash chuckles. “I don’t mind. I like imagining you doing the bedtime thing.”
“Oh yeah?” I tease.
“Yeah,” he says with adoration in his voice. “Just you being you. Taking care of Sam. Being the best dad.”
My eyes water slightly at that because being seen like this catches me off guard in the best way.
“So, what’d I miss over there?” I ask.
“Nothing at all.” He sighs. “It can be nice to have the house to myself, but a lot of the time it just feels empty and lonely. I miss them when they’re with their mom.”
“Sometimes I wish I had someone to help me with Sam, but the thought of him not being here with me at all times also feels unimaginable.”
“It’s a double-edged sword, that’s for sure.”
I nod to myself as my mind drifts. For most of Sam’s life, it’s just been the two of us. I’m used to being the one who does everything, used to holding it all together. And I’ve never really let anyone else in—not past a certain point.
But Nash is different. He’s gentle and thoughtful, and when I picture him here, it doesn’t feel like a disruption to our lives. It feels right. He feels like the perfect addition.
“Hey, Nash,” I start. “I just thought of something. Would you want to come over? You could stay the night. As long as you’re okay with leaving before Sam wakes up?”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line. “Yeah, of course,” he says. “I’d love to, Cay, and we should probably talk about a few things anyways. Good things, I promise.”
“Yeah,” I say, my throat tightening unexpectedly once again knowing he wants to talk more about us. “We should. Thank you.”
“Send me your address, and I’ll be over soon!” he says excitedly before hanging up, and I do.
The house is hardly dirty, but I panic clean anyway—remaking my bed, tidying up the bathroom to make sure I don’t look like a slob. It only takes a couple of minutes, so I jump into the shower after to freshen up.
There’s so much energy coursing through me, especially with the looming conversation we agreed to have.
Are we talking about the kids? About what this is?
What it might become? What if I come on too strong and he realizes he doesn’t want to be with me?
He said it was good things, but my mind is stirring with so many thoughts as I wait for him to get here.
About twenty-five minutes later, my phone lights up, and I reach for it quickly.
Nash:
I’m here.
I walk toward the door and tug it open to see Nash standing there in a hoodie and jeans, and he wraps me in a hug.
His arms are strong and steady around my back, and I melt into his embrace until he pulls back to capture my mouth.
It’s the kind of kiss that feels like exhaling after holding my breath all day.
It’s hungry and desperate, and the second his hand comes up to cup the side of my face, I lean into it even more.
Even though he’s kissed me before, this one feels different. He’s here, at my house, ready to spend the night and hopefully try new things with me. I chase his lips for a second longer before I finally break away, breathing hard.
“Missed me, huh?” He grins, a little breathless.
“Obviously.” I take his hand and lead him to my room. I feel equal parts giddy and nervous as usual.
Once we’re in my room, I click the door shut behind us, and I pull him toward the bed. We both drop down, and Nash leans in again, and I meet him halfway. The kiss is slower this time. His hand cups my jaw again and mine slips beneath the hem of his shirt, fingers skating over the skin of his back.
But just as my heart starts pounding louder than my thoughts, I pull back.
“Wait,” I pause, my palm resting on his chest now. “Before this goes any further, can we talk?”
He pulls back immediately, eyes searching mine. “Of course.” He shifts so he’s sitting in front of me and reaches for my hand. “I’m ready when you are. Where do you want to start?”
“Well, for starters, I haven’t dated since the divorce,” I admit, diving right into it. “And that scares me. Not just for me, but for Sam. If this gets messy—or if it doesn’t work—I don’t want him to get hurt. He’s already been through one parent walking out.”
Nash’s face softens as he brushes his thumb across my knuckles.
“I get that,” he says. “Believe me, I do. I’m always thinking about that line too—the one between what I want, and what’s best for Benji and Emma. I think about what it means to bring someone into their world and how it’ll affect them.”
“But I like you,” I blurt, hoping he knows that’s where I was going with this. “A lot. And I think I just needed to say that out loud.”
“I like you too.” Nash grins back at me. “A lot. I think about you all the time, Caleb. I know we’ve only just started getting to know each other, but I feel like you fit so perfectly in my life.”
“So… what do we do?” I ask.
“Just keep moving at a pace that works for us.” He shrugs. “I’d like to be part of your life in whatever capacity you’ll have me. Sam’s too. I don’t want to do something casual, I want to be all in.”
A sense of relief washes over me when I hear those words, and my face breaks out into a huge smile. “Me too,” I agree, my cheeks burning up. “What do we tell the kids? Or when do we tell them?”
“We don’t need to rush anything, still,” Nash comforts. “When the time feels right, we’ll talk to them. But for now, we can keep exploring and doing group activities with the kids. And if things don’t work out like we want them to, we’ll figure out what to tell them then too.”
I nod, heart full. “Thank you. For communicating with me about it.”
“I’m not sure I know how to be any other way,” Nash says with a small smile.
I lean over and kiss him, letting him feel how grateful I am before the heat quickly builds between us.
His tongue presses between my lips into my mouth, and I welcome him.
I want more of him, and I immediately think back to how good it felt to have his cock in my mouth.
The thought makes me moan as he yanks me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me as I lean forward.
My hips start grinding on top of him, and I can feel his erection under my ass.
He told me he wanted me to be shameless with what I want, and I want to be, especially after he told me he’s all in.
I want to take everything he’s offering, everything I’d spent so long pretending I didn’t want.
I want him to show me how good this can be.
His hands reach for my shirt, pulling it over my head, and I do the same to him. The second his shirt is off, he flips us completely, so I’m on my back on the bed, and he’s on top of me, licking at my neck without sucking.
The urge to have him mark me is now rising, but I’m a dad; I can’t walk around with a fucking hickey on my neck. Still, it doesn’t stop me from tilting my head to give him better access as I grind up against him.
“Fuck, baby. You’re really horny for me tonight, huh?”
“Yes. Please, touch me,” I whine.
He wastes no time, pulling down my pants and boxer briefs, stripping me bare.
He climbs back over top of me and grinds into me with his jeans dragging along my sensitive cock.
The roughness feels incredible. I can’t help but press my hips up into him, grinding, until he pulls away. I whimper at the loss.
“You’re so sexy laid out, hard and aching, beneath me.”
“I need more, please,” I beg. Allowing myself to ask for everything I want.
“Lube?” he asks, and my eyes widen and my lips part. I forgot about the bedside table drawer and what’s in there besides the lube.
“Don’t be shy now. And if you don’t have any, it’s okay, my mouth works perfectly. We can always just do blowjobs.”
“No, that’s not it at all,” I rush out. “It’s in the nightstand next to you.”
He leans over, still on top of me, and I wait as the drawer is pulled open.
“Oh fuck, baby. You’re dirty, aren’t you?” he says as he looks at me with a smirk, eyes dark with heat. He reaches into the drawer and pulls out my large silicone dildo with balls molded to the base. “Do you like to fuck yourself on this, Cay?”
I wasn’t sure what I expected from him finding that, but it wasn’t this level of desire.
“Yes,” I admit.
He pulls out the bottle of lube next, setting it on the table.
“That’s fucking hot. If I get you all warmed up with my fingers, will you show me how you like to be fucked?”
The way I could come from those filthy words leaving his lips. Holy hell.
Nodding is the only form of communication I think I’m capable of in this moment as he leans forward and grabs my bottom lip between his teeth, biting it. I hiss, but love the sharp, fleeting pain of him claiming me and taking what he wants.
“You want me to tell you what to do?”
I nod again.