Chapter 3
THREE
THEO
Kissing Caden is hands down the best thing in the history of ever.
For real. The time I won the school science fair with a Mentos and Coke volcano?
Second place. The feeling of a perfect three-point swish on the court?
Not even close. The night I finally beat him at Mario Kart?
Okay, that’s top five. But this? Kissing him? Undisputed gold medal.
Which is wild, because this time yesterday, I thought the only kiss I’d be getting anywhere near prom night was if someone spun the bottle wrong and panicked.
And now we’re on my bed. Kissing.
It’s still early afternoon the day after Caden’s prom, and the sunlight coming through my window is warm and soft, like the world is giving us this moment on purpose.
I’ve showered, thrown on clean clothes, and tried (but failed) not to replay every second of last night on a loop.
Caden showed up half an hour ago, looking like a Rocawear model with his hoodie sleeves shoved up to his elbows and hair a little damp from the shower.
He brought muffins, like we’re a couple that brunches.
My little sister, Amelia, poked her head in when he first showed up, stealing one of the muffins out of the box before he could set it down.
“Seriously? Do you live here now?” she teased, grinning at him like she always did.
Caden just smirked, muttered something about freeloaders, and she rolled her eyes on her way out.
It was barely thirty seconds, but it left me buzzing—because even she had no idea what he really was to me.
And then we somehow migrated from muffins to making out. As you do.
Out there, we’re just teammates, just neighbors, just best friends who trash-talk over Mario Kart.
That’s the script everyone knows, the roles we play so well that no one thinks to question them.
On the court, in the halls, even on the walk home, we’re the version of ourselves that fits what everyone else expects.
But in here… in here, it’s different. The walls hold our secrets.
The blinds erase the outside world. I don’t have to laugh too loud or keep my hands to myself.
He doesn’t have to pretend I’m only his buddy.
Here, he’s mine. And I’m his. And that truth is enough to make me greedy for every minute we get.
His hand is under my shirt, splayed warm and steady over my ribs, not moving—just there.
I’ve got one hand in his short strands, the other resting on the side of his neck.
Our kisses are soft and slow and a little sloppy because we keep smiling into them like idiots.
Every time we pause to breathe, one of us says something stupid or sweet, and then we’re back at it again, like we’re magnetized.
I pull away for a second, breathless. “So, just checking… you’re not under the influence of post-prom foam toxins, right?”
When I shift a little, my elbow knocks into the book on the nightstand, the bookmark jutting out like a reminder of what my Saturday afternoons usually look like. Reading, hiding in stories. Not this. Not him. The contrast is dizzying—in the best way.
Caden chuckles against my mouth. “Pretty sure I’m lucid. Unless I dreamed your grandma’s floral body wash in the shower.”
“That stuff lingers, man,” I say, grinning.
He grins back. “I like it. You smell like lavender and sass.”
I hum, tilting my head. “That sounds like a bad indie band.”
“Would still headline Coachella,” he murmurs, leaning back in.
The next kiss is deeper—more deliberate—and my chest goes tight in the best way. I don’t know how to describe this feeling except that it’s all-consuming. I’ve wanted him for so long, and now that I have this—him—it’s like a thousand little fireworks going off behind my ribs.
We break apart again, just slightly, foreheads brushing. “I really like you,” I say, voice quieter than I meant it to be.
Caden eases back to look at me. His eyes search mine. “Yeah?”
I nod, suddenly shy. “Like… it’s not new. It’s just been sitting in my chest for years, getting louder.”
He’s quiet for a second. Then his hand brushes my cheek, thumb tracing just below my eye.
“I think I started noticing stuff a couple of months ago,” he says softly.
“Like… weird stuff. The way I’d look for you in every room.
Or how I’d zone out during practice because I’d be thinking about that dumb way you hum when you’re focused.
Or the way your hair curls behind your ears when it’s wet.
It wasn’t… sudden. It was more like I looked up one day and you weren’t just my best friend anymore. ”
My heart absolutely stutters. “Cade,” I say, barely a whisper.
He smiles gently. “I still don’t know what to call it. Like, labels. But I know I want this. I want you.”
I bite my bottom lip, trying to keep it together. “I’m not asking you to call it anything. I just… I’m really happy right now.”
He leans in again, nose brushing mine. “Yeah. Me too.”
Another kiss, this one slower, and I slide my hand under the back of his hoodie, fingers tracing the curve of his spine.
His weight shifts just slightly, enough for his thigh to press into mine, and my brain short-circuits again in the best way.
It’s not rushed or messy—just charged. Close. Intimate.
I pull back a little, grinning like a goofball. “This is such a weird flex, but I can’t stop smiling. Like, my face might actually crack.”
“Please don’t crack,” Caden says. “I really like your face.”
I snort. “Smooooth.”
“You love it.”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
He kisses me again. Quieter this time. Sweet. The kind of kiss that says, I’m not going anywhere. And yeah… maybe that’s the best part.
We fall into silence, the kind that feels easy. My fingers trace lazy lines across the inside of his wrist where our hands are tangled between us. His thumb strokes the back of my hand. It’s all stupidly perfect, the kind of moment I’d roll my eyes at in a movie if I weren’t currently in it.
Still, there’s this question buzzing at the back of my brain. Not because I need labels or anything. I really don’t. But… well, I’m curious. And this—we—aren’t exactly what either of us expected.
I shift a little, turning more onto my side to look at him. “So, like… do you think you’re gay? Or bi? Or something?”
Caden shrugs, totally casual. “No clue.”
Just like that. No flinch. No tension. Just honesty.
“I mean,” he continues, brushing his fingers through my curls, “I liked girls. Still do, I think. My last girlfriend? I was into her. Physically, at least.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Right. You got to second base with Ava.”
His grin goes full smug. “You remember the base count?”
“You told everyone, Caden.”
“I did not.”
“You did. You told Cam, who told Shane, who told basically the entire basketball team and most of AP Chem.”
“Okay, fine,” he says, laughing. “I might’ve been proud.”
I glare at him. “So what, it was good?”
“I mean, yeah,” he says with a shrug, and for some reason, that sets something off in my chest.
It shouldn’t. Really, it shouldn’t. But it does.
He sees it instantly. “Wait—are you jealous?”
I try to cover it. “No.”
He gives me the most obnoxious, knowing look.
I roll my eyes. “Shut up.”
“You’re jealous of second base?”
“You’re bragging about second base!”
“I wasn’t bragging!” He’s laughing now, big and bright. “Oh my God, your face!”
“Caden,” I groan, hiding under a pillow.
He tugs the pillow away and kisses me. Just plants one right on my mouth and shuts me up in the most effective way possible.
He pulls away to speak, lips still brushing mine. “I’m not into her, Theo. I’m here with you. This—” He gestures between us. “—is better than any base I ever got to with anyone else.”
That stops the petty jealousy in its tracks. I blink. “Yeah?”
He nods. “I think… bi, maybe. That makes the most sense right now.”
My chest goes warm.
Then he says, voice quieter, “But I’ve never thought about another guy like this before. Not even close.”
I try not to let the ridiculous grin stretch across my face, but it’s a losing battle. “That’s…. I hella like that—a lot.”
He laughs softly and leans in again, kissing the corner of my mouth, then my jaw, then—just because he can—nuzzles his nose against my cheek until I’m laughing too.
We’re quiet again, but the air feels different now. Charged. Curious.
I glance at him. “So, is this just… kissing? Or have you thought about more?”
His cheeks go pink. And considering he’s got rich brown skin, it’s super noticeable. Adorable, really.
“Definitely more,” he says, voice just a little hoarse.
That fries my brain for a hot second. I should probably be embarrassed. I should feel awkward. But this is Caden. He’s the person I’ve told everything to. The person I’ve loved, secretly and not-so-secretly, for years. If I can’t talk about this stuff with him, who the hell else could I?
Still, I clear my throat. “Okay, so… not, like, now or anything. We don’t have to—”
He nods quickly. “No, yeah, same. I mean, not that I don’t want to. Obviously. I do. A lot.”
“Yeah,” I echo, trying to sound cool and chill and not like I’ve fantasized about seeing him naked since I was fifteen. “Definitely. But also… I’m good with just this right now.”
He smiles. “Me too.”
But then he adds, under his breath, “Although, if you did want to see my dick….”
“Caden!”
He dissolves into laughter, arms wrapping around me as I half push, half hug him in retaliation. And yeah, okay, do I want to see it? Hell yes. But we’ve got time.
And right now, the way his mouth finds mine again—gentle and sure that it’s his—is more than enough.
Caden’s mouth is still warm against mine, his hand splayed across my waist like he’s memorizing the shape of me.
My fingers are curled in the fabric of his hoodie, and every few seconds, we pull apart to breathe before diving back in like we’re making up for lost time—for every day we didn’t do this sooner.