Chapter 22 Jack
“What’s his deal,” Ty asked just as the shower turned on.
Nick stared at the closed bathroom door and sighed. “Cal’s got stuff he’s dealin’ with. I know you like to give everyone shit, Ty, but maybe go easy on him for a minute.”
“Ha. Fuck that. Everyone gets one setting from me.”
“Asshole.”
“Exactly. Can’t be ruining the rep I’ve worked hard for.” Ty laughed but glanced at me before lying flat on his bed. I appreciated his concern, his caring, but I’d been the asshole this time, and I was determined to fix it.
The cabin was a bit chilly being out in the middle of nowhere in early November, but the next morning as we yawned our way through breakfast and hustled onto the fields with hundreds of squealing kids, it was cold enough my balls retreated.
During the first hour, we ran warm-up maneuvers, then moved into games until lunch.
After that, we broke into smaller groups for more one-on-one time.
Ty and I were running soccer drills while Cal joined Nick and a few others for football activities.
I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t fun, and by dinner, I was worn-out but in a better mindset.
The counselor tables were sprinkled here and there among the ones filled with kids. Even though Cal and I weren’t near each other when we sat down for pre-packed turkey sandwiches and chips for dinner Saturday night, I kept an eye on him.
When he got up before everyone finished and left the large hall, I darted my gaze toward Ty, who’d also noticed Cal leaving.
I raised my brows and jerked my head toward the door with a silent request. Ty nodded, understanding I needed some time with Cal alone, so I slipped out of the noisy room to follow him.
He hadn’t made it far, and I trailed behind him on his way to our cabin. A few seconds after he closed himself inside, I entered the dark room. He hadn’t turned the light on, just stood next to his bed, with his face aimed at the ceiling and shoulders tense.
“Heard about you and Sasha,” I said as an opener to confirm the rumors and the motive behind her bitching. “She, uh, she thinks I’m the reason you two broke up.”
Cal dropped his head, didn’t reply, then shoved his hands into his bag as if he were searching for a way out of this room through it.
I kept racing, headfirst, into this thick atmosphere I didn’t fully understand. “Something about our fight distracting you away from her.”
Impossibly, he tensed further. “Be glad you’re not on any social apps,” he snipped. “She’d probably harass you more.”
And he knew I wasn’t because he must’ve checked.
“You okay?” I asked after a quiet minute.
He whirled to face me. “Why’re you talkin’ to me? This ain’t us.”
I snickered and pushed off the door. “Don’t be an ass. I’m trying to be nice.”
“I’m not an ass,” he snapped. “Look, despite Trent’s useless projects to fix us, you know nothing about me, okay? I’m …” He trailed off and blinked before sighing heavily and returning to dig through his bag again. “I’ve got shit going on.”
I took a step closer. “Yeah? So tell me.”
Cal scoffed.
“I’m serious.”
He shook his head.
“Tell me,” I pushed again, hoping I could get him angry. We just worked better like that. As if only a jet fuel explosion could get us where we wanted to be.
Cal stopped rummaging, then exhaled and said, “My parents got divorced last year.”
Not the revelation I’d hoped for.
I waited. Keep going, Cal. Tell me. Tell me everything.
The dam broke.
He spun around, face a mask of anger and hysteria.
“They only talk to me when they’re bitching about me or each other,” he fired off, arms waving and jerking.
“They want me taking care of everything they don’t.
Myself, Cara, errands around the house …
Fuck, I’m just one person, and they don’t even care how I’m doing, how I’m coping with it all.
I broke up with Sasha, and I can’t talk to them about it, about her. She won’t …”
When he trailed off, my heart sank. Was he about to confess he wanted her back?
“She won’t leave me the fuck alone. Texting me. Calling me. We broke up weeks ago, that night of the party at the Beach. She— I didn’t say anything to anyone about it because she was so pissed at me. I didn’t want the drama, didn’t want her going off, and she did anyway!”
Cal sucked in a deep breath, looking more crazed with every second.
“She started harassing Cara. My fuckin’ sister.
I blocked her number on Cara’s phone, all her socials, and now she’s coming after you?
The fuck? She won’t stop. She—” He interrupted himself again and wheeled around, giving me his back, while I clung to the ledge with my toes, anxious of what more there could be but ready to pitch forward into his abyss to have it all.
“She what?”
“She hurt me,” he whispered, then choked on a disgusted laugh. “Like injured me, and now I’m afraid of her, of what she might do.”
I jolted back a step, shocked he’d admitted it and ready to run home to kick her ass this very second. How fucking dare she? Standing right in that hallway, accusing me, bullying me, getting in my head, when she’d been fucking hurting him?
His words stung my heart, but the emotion rolling through me scored my soul.
The first breath to settle myself did nothing.
The second one brought the room back into focus.
I needed to say something, but doubts choked me.
Conflicting desires kept me rooted. The need to go to him, to soothe, to kiss it all better, warred with old enemies clutching at my ankles, dragging me down, keeping me down.
Fear. Fear of a past I never shook off, fear of a future that might never happen.
Memories, old and ugly, waned as new ones flooded my bloodstream. Cal smiling, his smirks, that fucking wink … The blue of his eyes and the touch of his lips … His voice when he called me Princess … Every silent glance and every greedy moan he made for me …
“Princess,” I mouthed more than whispered. My poor, sweet Cal. In pain. Alone and in pain.
For months, Cal had been telling me in our unique way everything I was too afraid of saying right back, but no longer.
If he could be brave enough to admit something like this in the face of his enemy, then I could stand up to those old torments for a need so deep, I couldn’t find the bottom. A need for him.
“Yeah, so.” He sniffed and turned to face me with watery eyes. “My parents breathing down my neck, the school on my ass about the trouble we caused, then Sasha’s drama … I’m done. Just so done with their shit. Then you start fuckin’ with me.”
I snickered as a familiar pang struck in my chest. “Me fucking you? Okay.”
Cal huffed. “You know what I meant. Just leave me alone so I can work this out on my own.”
“Nope.” I can’t leave you alone anymore. I’m not sure I ever could.
“Jack.”
“I can help.”
“No, you can’t.”
I took another step and lowered my voice. “I think I can.” Another step put me at the end of his bed. “Let me help you relax.”
Cal rubbed the back of his neck. “Impossible,” he mumbled, eyes boring into mine and making no move to regain distance between us.
“I’ll prove you wrong. You know I’m all about giving you more reasons to hate me.”
He slowly lowered his arm and swallowed hard enough shadows played over his throat, practically begging for my tongue. He let out a winded chuckle. “You would, wouldn’t you.”
I stopped in front of him, close enough a deep breath from either of us and we’d be touching. He didn’t stop me when I rubbed across his delts, moving to his shoulder blades, then down his back. He kept his arms loose at his sides, watching me, probably expecting some kind of trap.
But I was done playing around.
“God, you’re so tight.”
Cal smirked. We were nearly the same height, so his lips curved only inches from mine. “Yeah? Thought you said you could help. What’re you gonna do about it?”
I didn’t answer, just moved my hands to his wrists, trailed my fingers all the way up his arms, and then into his silky hair. I’d wanted to touch him like this since the first time I saw him on the football field. I’d wanted to trace every line and arc. I’d wanted to taste every slope and dimple.
Cal stood so still, he might not’ve breathed as I scraped my nails over his scalp, then down to his ears, circling the shells. A shuddered breath escaped, proving he was alive, when I lightly trailed my fingertips over his temples, his brows, and down his nose.
What I’d intended to help was now a raging need in my sweatpants. An inch closer and he’d know it too. I rubbed hard along Cal’s jaw with my thumbs, his throat, softly over his Adam’s apple when it bobbed, and then even lighter across the hollow.
“Stop teasing me,” he whispered.
I clawed down his meaty pecs. “You know how to stop me.”
He didn’t, so I didn’t.
We were in T-shirts and a little sweaty from the long day. His nipples were hard. I pinched them, and he slapped my hand. It only made me chuckle and drag my nails to his sides. Cal hissed and jerked away from me.
“Ticklish?”
He nodded once, slowly, then parted his lips.
Fuck this.
I surged forward and wrapped a hand around his nape, grabbing his shirt with my other just as my mouth crashed against his. We were good like this, fast and hard. He gripped my hips in his big hands, keeping me in place, as he opened for my demand.
Silky hot. His tongue on mine made sense, made everything right in the world. We were evenly matched. The same frame of mind was shared between us. The speed, the intensity, we just meshed. We slanted our heads, seeking a better angle, a deeper angle.
I pushed him toward his bed and slid right on top of him, straddling his thighs. He grinned as I leaned over him to get adjusted before pushing him all the way back as I kissed him once more.