Chapter 3 #2
Thankfully, Anne has the foresight to tuck us in, Caleb once again wrapped around me, his face tucked into my neck, his legs wrapped around mine.
“You smell so fucking good,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my skin. My eyes squeeze shut, wanting everyone to leave. This is horrific. What must they think of me? Of him?
“Dude, we should go before they start fucking,” Sem says, and Luke nudges him.
“Yeah, we should totally peace out. Seems Whit’s got this.”
Caleb groans and rubs his nose across my shoulder, and I feel his tongue peek out and slide across me. A mishap, I’m sure, but it happened. I don’t know if I’ll ever forget how that felt.
“God, I must be into dudes, huh?” Caleb murmurs, his voice hitting my ear. “Don’t know if straight guys like cuddling with men this much. But fuck, you feel so good. Skin is so soft.” He sighs and then adds, “Nah. Can’t be gay. Must be the fever.”
“Fucking hell,” Luke says and then drags Sem and Liam out of the room. Anne and Aunt Del linger for a moment, but the soft smiles they give us make a flush ignite across my entire body.
Blessedly, they leave quickly, and I’m once again left with Caleb curled around me.
“Mmm, so good,” he moans, and I swear his lips brush across my skin in a kiss, but then he’s snoring and I’m left alone to experience it all.
And I do. I experience it, and I know that when all is said and done, I’ll tear it apart thought by thought.
When the fever breaks, and he wakes up, coherent for the first time in days, he leans up and stares down at me. His cheeks are a pretty pink, his hair a wild mess.
He looks like he’s just been fucked.
It makes my eye twitch.
“You’re awake,” I finally say, my hands slipping off his back.
His face scrunches slightly, and then he slips off me.
“Shit. Sorry, man.”
“It’s fine.” Now that he’s off me, I realize how warm I’d been. The fabric of my shirt adheres to my skin, and I know I need a long, cold shower.
“How long have I been out?” he asks, his hand scraping down the scruff on his face. The sound makes me shiver.
“Three days.”
He sighs, flopping down on the bed, his body still pressed against mine. “Shit.”
I clear my throat, telling myself to move, but for some reason, I just stay where I am. It makes absolutely no sense.
The way I react to Caleb seems to defy all reason.
“Your friends and family were worried about you.”
He peers over at me, and I force my gaze back to the ceiling. “So, I didn’t hallucinate that then?”
“No, they were texting and seemed worried, so I replied. And then they showed up. En masse. I hope you’re not upset.”
“Nah. It’s fine. There’s no stopping them anyway,” he mutters as he fiddles with the end of my shirt. “Thanks, man.”
“No problem,” I reply, and then decide it’s time to get up. He can’t continue touching me like this. The past few days were hard enough.
His bottom lip juts out slightly as he watches me stand before he rolls it between his teeth. He still hasn’t moved from my bed.
He’s still very naked.
“Probably want your bed back, huh?” he finally says.
I clear my throat and feel my palms tingle slightly. “I gave up on that about three days ago when you wouldn’t leave.”
He closes his eyes and lets out a cute little huff. “I can get a little clingy. I have attachment issues.”
My mind slips to his dead mother. That would make sense.
“It’s fine.”
He lifts his arms and stretches, the sheet slipping further and further down his chiseled abdomen. “Fuck, I smell. I can’t believe you let me sleep with you like this. I need to shower.”
I can’t look anymore. I really can’t. I turn and fiddle with the sheets on his bed, making it up once more.
Caleb is silent a moment and then says, “Go on. I know you have things to say. Just tell me.”
I really can’t say anything I’m thinking. Even I know that wouldn’t go over well.
“No, just shower and then come lie back down while I wash my sheets.”
I turn my back on him completely, hearing him stand up once I do. Knowing he’s completely naked now has my fingers curling into my palm. I need him to hurry. To disappear.
“Why am I still naked?” he says instead.
“You complained the fabric was too scratchy. I gave up trying to clothe you after the first day.”
He huffs, and I can feel him staring at me. To be honest, I didn’t try that hard. I tried very little.
My attempt at trying was nonexistent.
Thankfully, he takes my explanation and disappears into the bathroom, the water turning on. I sag against the bedframe.
I smell like him.
I need to shower and change immediately.
But first, I need to wash the sheets, to rinse away the scent and the memories caught in the fabric. I pull them off the bed with a quick flick of my wrist and throw them into the small washer.
As soon as I turn it on, I can breathe a little easier.
When he finally comes out of the bathroom, I grab my clothes, holding them tightly to my chest, and move into the small room. It, of course, smells like him. I hold my breath and wash quickly.
When I step into the room after, Caleb is tucked into his own bed, his sheets pulled up to his neck. Something akin to regret pulses through me.
His blue eyes meet mine, and he watches me through hooded lids.
“Are you hungry?” I manage to ask, shoving my hands in my pockets, trying not to do something I’ll regret. Like reach for him.
It seems my body got used to having him against me and…I miss it.
“Yeah, but I can do it when I get up. You’ve done enough.”
I shift on my feet. I should leave. I should let him do what he wants. But I don’t. I just stay and say, “I don’t mind.”
He sits up, that sheet tumbling down his chest, exposing his abdomen to me. I don’t understand why he doesn’t wear clothes.
“Why you being so nice to me, huh?” he asks, confusion lining his voice.
“Why wouldn’t I be nice?”
“Because you dislike me.”
Is that what the past few days were? Dislike? It sure didn’t feel like that to me.
“I don’t dislike you, Caleb,” I say softly.
My voice is huskier than I want it to be, and Caleb’s eyelids flutter slightly at the sound.
Absolutely not.
“Could have fooled me,” he says as he flops back down on his bed and throws an arm over his face.
“I’ll make you toast,” I murmur, walking briskly to the kitchen and holding on to the edge of the counter. My hands need to stay busy. Maybe I’ll clean the bathroom later today. Maybe I’ll deep-clean the entire apartment.
Fuck.
Fuck the toast. I don’t want to make it and then have to feed it to him. To watch his throat swallow.
It’s too much.
I should walk out of this apartment and get some fresh air, but for some reason, I make the damn toast like I’m some kind of sous chef, and when I’m done, I bring it into the bedroom.
He’s still lying on the bed. One of his legs has left the confines of the sheets, and I swallow roughly when I see him.
And instead of standing and handing him the plate, I lower myself down right next to him, helping him eat what I made. And if I brush the crumbs from his lips and feel my insides go molten from the sounds he makes when he swallows, I’ll blame it on the lack of sleep.
I am so incredibly tired.
Suddenly, his phone rings, and he eyes the phone.
“Just my Aunt Del,” he says, but I know I need to answer. She’s been worried.
So I let my hands fall from him, and I reach for it, answering with a flick of my fingers. Caleb looks surprised but says nothing.
“Hello, Aunt Del,” I say, knowing I’m blushing as I speak.
This has nothing to do with his naked body inches from mine or how good he smells freshly washed.
“Hello there, sweet pea. How’s Caleb?”
Caleb grunts and says loudly, “I’m fine. And since when is Whit your sweet pea?”
She lets out a soft laugh and says, “Since he took care of you for three whole days. Without complaining. Have you thanked him yet, Caleb?”
He huffs. “Yeah, I did.”
Not sure if he has actually, but I don’t say anything.
“Well, I’m sending Sem and Luke over with more food for you both.”
Caleb whines. “No, don’t send them.”
“They’ll be there in a few hours.”
My lips twitch at how annoyed Caleb seems. I don’t know why. Aunt Del is lovely, and his cousins, while a little much, seem to care about him.
“How is he really doing, Whit? You can be honest with me.”
Caleb grunts and falls back onto his bed.
“He’s doing fine. Much better than before.”
“Good. You keep me updated.”
We exchange a few more words and then hang up, leaving Caleb to stare at me long and hard.
“How well did you get to know them when I was out of it?” he finally asks.
I shift slightly. “As well as I could with you wrapped around me.”
“And Sem and Luke were here? Liam and Anne, too?”
“I did say they came en masse.”
He groans, and that sound makes something heat in my abdomen. “Oh, fuck me. When you say wrapped around me, what do you mean by that?”
I bite my bottom lip, unsure if I should tell him. Doesn’t he know? Do I want him to remember the way I touched him, how I ran my hands up and down his naked skin?
I take a seat on the edge of his bed because my legs are shaking slightly. I don’t know if I can stand while I’m saying this.
“It means that I got up once to let them in, and then you moaned for me to get back in bed. And when I did, you…”
“Out with it,” he murmurs, his cheeks flushed red.
I know mine are the same. In remembrance of it all. “You crawled on top of me.”
“Oh fuck. On top?”
“Yes.”
“And they saw everything?”
“Everything.”
The sound of distress coming from him makes my lips twitch. It’s either that or cry.
“Oh, come on. It’s not fucking funny, man. They won’t let me live it down. They saw me needy as fuck.”
Interesting. He’s not upset they saw him on top of another man, but that he was needy.
What the hell does that mean?
Do not overthink it, I tell myself. He said he wasn’t gay. I know he’s not.
It was the fever that brought it out of him. He just wanted to be comforted.
His finger reaches out and pokes me. That makes me jerk back, the touch unexpected. Unwanted.
I don’t want it.