Chapter 15
THANKSGIVING - PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA
Now playing: Do I Wanna Know? - BBC Live Lounge - Hozier
The live show in Philadelphia was unreal. Not only were the fans unlike any I’d ever seen, but their love for Cal was intense. He was this city’s son, their prince, and they made that crystal clear last night.
I was supposed to fly out to North Carolina afterward. It was Thanksgiving, a rare time I was off, a rare time I actually went back to see my dad and uncle. But the flight was delayed. And delayed. And delayed.
I ended up spending the night in the airport waiting, watching the departure board turn into a sea of red text.
But before things got worse, they got better.
My phone rang. Murran. Why was he calling on a holiday?
“Hello?” I answered hesitantly as I stepped to a less crowded spot in the airport. The snowfall outside was heavy, a white curtain over the glass, and there was no doubt that was the cause of so many delays.
“Reed! How are you? Enjoying the holiday?”
“Uh, yeah, how about you?”
“Just fine. I’m calling to discuss Front Lines with you. After careful consideration, and many conversations, Creative, myself, and Mr. Harlow are in agreement. We think you’re ready for a push, and we want it to happen Sunday.”
My body felt cemented to the floor. My heart dropped, my eyes widened. This couldn’t possibly be real. They thought I was ready? That I was worthy, already?
“I don’t know what to say, I—”
“No need, son, you earned it. You’ve busted your ass. And the fans see it. You’ll do great. Don’t overthink it,” Murran said, his voice brimming with a confidence I didn’t feel.
I swallowed hard, my throat clicking.
“Thank you, sir.” It was all I could say.
“See you Sunday. Happy Thanksgiving, Silas.”
The line went dead, and my world was spinning. What the hell? A push? A championship run?
Now, back to reality. How the fuck do I get out of Pennsylvania?
“Fuck me,” I muttered.
Canceled.
Canceled.
Canceled.
It was all I could see on the screens. The flight to Raleigh, which still would have left me driving three hours home, was canceled.
“I’m sorry, sir, due to the inclement weather, we’ve canceled all departing flights,” the woman at the desk said, looking exhausted.
I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face. Of course this was happening. I hadn’t slept, I was starving, and I just wanted to go home. Now, here I was, fucking stuck.
“I’ll also let you know as well, we’ve been informed that taxis and Ubers to and from the airport right now have several hour waits. I apologize, I wish there was more I could do,” the young lady added sincerely.
“It’s fine, thank you,” I said.
I groaned as I texted my dad.
Flight is canceled. Snowing its ass off. Won’t make it home. Sorry.
Go find a hotel and rest. We’ll see you Sunday.
I threw my head back in frustration. I knew this was hopeless. No transportation for hours. I was sure there were no hotels anywhere near here with vacancy. I was probably better off posting up here, waiting until things calmed down, and catching the first flight to Charlotte.
But I seriously, desperately, wanted to sleep in a bed.
I searched and searched online until I found a hotel with openings. I could book it, but a ride was the issue now.
I had no other option. I called Cal.
I felt guilty for it. I knew he would be with his family, or heading that way at least.
“Si?” He was groggy. He’d clearly been asleep. Lucky him.
“Fuck, I didn’t mean to wake you, sorry,” I said quietly.
“No, it’s alright. Are you okay?” he asked, instantly more alert, the concern bleeding through the static.
“Yeah, I’m fine, I’ve been stuck at the airport all night. They canceled—”
He huffed, a sharp exhale. I could practically feel his glare from here. “Why the hell didn’t you call me, baby?” I heard him moving around, sheets rustling, feet hitting the floor.
“I—”
He stopped me again. “I’m coming to get you. Don’t go anywhere.”
“Thank you,” I said, relief washing through me like a warm wave.
“And when I get to you, we’re arguing. Why the fuck didn’t you call me? You could have stayed at my place,” he scolded, though there was no real heat in it.
“I figured you were with your family,” I said.
“Even if I was, they wouldn’t care. I’ll see you in like forty-five minutes, okay?” Cal assured me.
Forty-five minutes felt like an eternity. I just wanted to get out of this place. It was packed, beyond claustrophobic, and I felt it swallowing me whole.
I’m here.
The text lit up on my phone like a beacon. I was finally leaving this airport, getting away from all these fucking people.
I hurried towards the sliding doors, the biting cold hitting my face instantly. As soon as I stepped out, I saw him. He was leaning against his car, a matte black Honda Civic Sport that looked like it hauled ass, because of course he had a car like that.
Cal pushed off the car, walked up to me, and took my bags without a word.
“Hey,” he said with a smile that warmed me faster than the heater ever could.
“Hey,” I said back, my shoulders finally dropping.
We tossed my bags into the trunk and slid into the front seats. The interior smelled like leather, sandalwood and expensive cologne.
Cal’s hand immediately went to my thigh, heavy and grounding.
“You’re coming with me to my parents’, by the way,” Cal said as he turned the car back onto the road.
“What?” I said, eyes going wide. “I don’t want to intrude. There’s a hotel like fifteen minutes from here I was gonna—”
“Si, you’re not staying in my city in a hotel, especially on a holiday. My folks are great, my sisters will be happy to see I brought someone with me. It’ll be fine, I promise,” he assured me, his thumb rubbing circles into my denim.
“And besides,” he said, his voice dropping an octave as he slid his hand higher up my leg, pressing his palm firmly against my cock through my jeans. “We can head back to my apartment anytime.”
My body shuddered at the feeling, and my cock instantly twitched at the sensation of him touching me through my clothes. Fuck. Even if I wanted to argue, I couldn’t. Not when he touched me like that.
“My parents live like thirty minutes out,” Cal said, removing his hand to shift gears, leaving me aching for the contact.
I nodded, my body having seemingly relaxed to the point of wanting to sleep, the exhaustion finally kicking in.
In thirty minutes, we were pulling up to Cal’s parents’ home.
It was a decent sized two-story house in an upper middle-class neighborhood.
It felt real. Lived in. It wasn’t in the woods; there were neighbors on either side, a fence in the front yard.
It was what I always envisioned real childhood homes looked like.
Anxiety shot through me for a moment. “Who did you tell your family you were bringing?” I asked before he opened his door.
Cal raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “You?”
“Do they…does your family know?” I mumbled, feeling small.
Cal shook his head. “No. I mean, they know I’m not straight, but not about you.” He paused, his tone softening. He sensed the nerves. “It’s okay, Si. Come on.”
I nodded, took a breath, and popped my door open.
There were several nicer, newer cars in the yard. Clearly plenty of people were here, and that only made me more nervous.
Cal walked right up the stairs and flung the door open. “I’m here!” he shouted.
Instantly, the house erupted. His sisters came running, giving hugs, saying hello. His mom followed soon after, then another two women whom I gathered were aunts.
“Silas! It’s so good to see you again!” Cindy said as she hurried over to me, hugging my neck tightly. She smelled like sage and perfume. “I’m sorry you got stuck at the airport. You should have called Callum sooner!”
“I told him that, Ma,” Cal said with a grin, kicking his shoes off.
We were dragged off instantly by Cindy and the oldest of the sisters to the kitchen. Cal’s dad was there, along with many other relatives who went the rounds introducing themselves to me. Somehow, this felt normal. Natural. This was a normal family, at least, it felt like it to me.
Cal looked so free here. He wasn’t guarded. He was smiling, laughing, joking. He did that with me, yeah, but seeing it here felt different. This was his foundation. This was home.
Cal’s eyes always lingered on me. Even if we weren’t sitting together or talking, his gaze was a constant weight. Not watching, admiring. I felt it. I loved it.
The afternoon blurred into a montage of domesticity I’d only ever seen in movies.
We ate a massive dinner where I was stuffed full of turkey and stuffing.
We went out into the snow dusted yard to play touch football with his cousins.
I watched Cal run routes, his breath pluming in the cold air, his laughter ringing out as he tackled his sister into a snowbank.
He welcomed me into this space so effortlessly. And for the first time in years, I didn’t feel like the lone wolf.
By evening, the energy settled down. Everyone decided to gather in the living room to watch the late game.
Cal walked in, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on me. When he saw me perched on the arm of the sofa, trying not to take up space, his face lit up.
He walked over and dropped down onto the empty cushion right beside me.
Without a second of hesitation, he grabbed my hips and pulled me down off the armrest, tugging me backward until I was sitting directly between his legs.
I sank into the cushions, my back resting flush against his chest as he wrapped his arms around my waist, locking me in.
I leaned back into him, letting the solid thump of his heart steady me. Cal nuzzled his face into my neck, pressing a soft kiss to the sensitive skin just below my ear. And just like that, we sat there, laughing and talking with his family, existing perfectly in our own little bubble of warmth.