Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Cal walked into Austin’s house on Friday evening for their first-date redo wearing his most comfortable jeans and holding a six-pack of beer and a bag of Twizzlers. That not right feeling from last week was nowhere to be found, perhaps owing to the fact that he felt comfortable in his own skin in jeans and a T-shirt, perhaps because dinner at Austin’s made him feel less exposed...
Or because, last week, he’d still been half on the fence about dating Austin at all.
He wasn’t on the fence anymore, but he was still worried about how this would change things between them.
The truth was, though, that things had already changed. From the moment Austin had asked him out, things had been different. It had tilted their relationship sideways, giving it a new facet. A new angle. It was like picking up a favorite snow globe and noticing a new detail on the statue inside for the first time.
So while the not right feeling had dissipated to nothing, the nerves sure were making themselves known. Cal wasn’t sure he’d ever been this nervous for the admittedly few first dates he’d been on, and reminding himself that this was Austin didn’t help.
Because it was Austin .
He was dating Austin .
It was both weird and amazing.
Since Cal had had an earlier than normal start to his workday, he and Austin had eschewed their weekly Friday morning ass-crack-of-dawn walk. Because, in Austin’s words, Four a.m. isn’t a time of day I want to see unless I’m taking photos or being fucked.
Cal had nearly swallowed his tongue when he’d read Austin’s text. Then he’d had to explain to Ewan and Orson—who did seem to be getting along much better now—why he’d tripped over his own feet.
“Aus?” he called, banishing Austin’s text from his immediate thoughts. He closed the door behind him and kicked off his shoes.
“In the kitchen,” Austin called back.
Cal sniffed the air as he walked down the hallway to the back of the house. “Smells amazing. Are you making that chicken dish thing?”
“Why does everyone keep calling it a chicken thing ?” Austin muttered, adding diced tomatoes to the pan on the stove. “It’s called orzo chicken skillet.”
“Same difference.”
“I’m gonna kick you out in a second.”
Chuckling, Cal placed the beer and the Twizzlers on the counter. “Can I help?”
“It’s pretty much done.” Austin added broth and seasoning, then covered the pan and reduced the heat. “It needs to simmer for fifteen minutes, then we can eat. Believe it or not, it calls for spinach too, but?—”
Cal made a face.
“Yeah.” Austin laughed and pointed at him. “Exactly.” He pulled two beers out of the six-pack and handed one to Cal. “You can help me set the table while it finishes cooking and tell me about how you got that.” He gestured at the bruise on Cal’s arm.
Cal held it out in front of him and sighed. “Ewan and Orson challenged me and Gwen to an archery competition. Losers get to muck the stalls for a week.”
Austin passed Cal a couple of plates. “Who won?”
“Are you kidding? You think any of us could hit the target?”
“Who gets to muck the stalls then?”
“Ewan and Orson. Obviously.”
Austin grinned and set the cutlery on the counter for Cal to grab. “And that—” He nodded at Cal’s arm. “—is a war wound?”
“You should see Ewan’s.”
“Why didn’t you wear the arm guards?”
Cal shrugged. “Couldn’t be bothered.”
“Couldn’t be bothered,” Austin repeated with an eye roll. “Seriously, what is it with the men in this town?” Before Cal could ask what Austin was talking about, he continued. “I ran into Las and Marco when I was at the ranch shooting some photos earlier this week, and they were also having a go at archery without arm guards. Las came out unscathed, but Marco’s arm looks like a horse trampled over it. And Derek has a bruise that looks like what yours will look like in a few days.” He checked on his simmering dish, nodded once, and jerked his chin at a nearby plate. “Do you think that’s enough cheese to sprinkle on top?”
Cal eyed the small mountain Austin had already shredded and shook his head. “Definitely not.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Austin got the brick of cheese out of the fridge while Cal sliced bread, and they worked side by side like they always had.
It was in that moment, when Cal had a minute to himself, that he realized the nerves were gone. Because this was them. Just them. It was a date, sure, but it didn’t feel like one. Instead, it was like any other Friday evening.
He both loved that and hated it.
Loved it because this was natural. The easy conversation, the segue from one topic to another, the way they navigated the kitchen without bumping into each other... it was familiar and uncomplicated.
Hated it because... Well, weren’t first dates meant to be special? Wasn’t that what Austin had tried to do last week? Make their first date special by dressing up and going somewhere nice?
Christ. And Cal had shit all over that because...
Because why?
The answer, which had been so clear a week ago, eluded him.
He was an asshole for ruining Austin’s big night, and he hated himself a little bit for it.
But he’d make it up to him. Somehow, someway, he’d make sure Austin got the date he deserved.
They sat down to eat a few minutes later, and before Cal had swallowed his first delicious mouthful, Austin said, “What are your thoughts on Norway?”
Cal cocked his head. “The country? Wait, is this like that alien thing you asked me about the other day? A question with no purpose?”
“Excuse you, my questions always have purpose.” Austin jabbed his fork in Cal’s direction. “Now that you bring it up, you never did answer that question. So? What are your thoughts on aliens?”
“I think there’s virtually no chance that we’re the only intelligent life in the universe.”
“And what about Norway?”
“Can’t say I’ve ever had any burning thoughts about Norway. Why do you ask? Is that where the aliens live?”
Austin choked out a laugh. “Uh, no.” He sat back and stared at his plate for a moment before lifting his gaze to meet Cal’s. “I was offered a teaching gig at the Norwegian School of Photography to backfill a two-term absence.”
Cal’s stomach dropped to his toes at the same time as excitement for Austin swelled in his chest. He was used to Austin leaving for short stints abroad for one of the magazines he freelanced for.
He wasn’t used to Austin being gone for months at a time.
“Did you learn to speak Norwegian when I wasn’t looking?” Cal snapped his fingers as though the answer had just occurred to him. “The Norwegian aliens must have a universal translator.”
Throwing his head back, Austin laughed, the sound booming throughout the kitchen and sending bells of pleasure ringing across Cal’s skin. “If only such a thing existed. But no. Some of the courses are taught in English. Hedda says they have a large international student population.”
Cal had met Austin’s mentor only once, and his first impression had been fierce coupled with kinda scary .
There was a light in Austin’s eyes Cal hadn’t seen in a while. Not since Austin had told Cal about the course proposal he’d submitted to Central Wyoming College. It was the light of new opportunity mixed with excitement and yearning.
Cal set his fork aside and didn’t let the pending loss show on his face. “You want the job.”
“No,” Austin said quickly. Too quickly. At Cal’s raised eyebrow, he made a face—seemingly at himself. “I mean... maybe. It sounds like a lot of fun. And it’d be great experience, making me more employable to Central Wyoming College. But...” He pushed the orzo around on his plate.
“But?” Cal pressed.
Austin shrugged one shoulder. “It’s Norway. And the fall term starts mid-August. It’s bad timing.”
“Because of your workshops? You can probably bribe Carine to teach the last few.” Austin’s former assistant was now a stay-at-home mom, but while she’d worked for him, she’d sometimes taught Austin’s workshops when they conflicted with a scheduled out-of-town shoot. Cal didn’t doubt she’d happily help out now if Austin asked.
“Sure, the workshops. But also...” Austin waved a hand between them. “This. Us. We’ve barely gotten off the ground, and I don’t want to nip it in the bud before we’ve even had a chance to try. That’s not fair to either of us.”
Cal was about to tell him that he didn’t have to choose between him and the job—the timing sucked balls, Austin was right about that, but Cal would still be here when Austin’s contract was up—when Austin added, “I’ve had feelings for you for way too long to let anything get between that.”
Cal nearly choked on what he’d been about to say.
Feelings...
Way too long...
“How long...?” he managed to croak, unable to finish past the dryness in his throat.
Austin shrugged like it was no big deal, but twin spots of pink colored his cheeks and he glanced away, poking at his orzo again. “Since we were fifteen or sixteen.”
Cal’s heart tripped over itself. He’d had feelings for Austin for just as long, and when he thought of all that wasted time between then and now...
But...
“You married Lindsay,” he blurted thoughtlessly.
“Uh...” Austin frowned. “Yes?”
“You married her... when you had feelings for me?”
Austin’s expression cleared. So achingly gentle that it formed a lump in Cal’s throat, Austin said, “It’s not unheard of for a person to be in love with two people at once.”
The lump grew. Cal swallowed roughly, his palms going damp. Austin... was in love with him?
“But back then, I didn’t think you and me would ever be a possibility,” Austin added. “Mostly because I was too afraid to try. Too afraid of messing up our friendship.”
The reason Cal had been so reticent when Austin had first asked him out. They were on the same wavelength, only years apart.
“So what changed?” Cal asked, his voice like gravel.
“I didn’t want to wait anymore. If Lindsay’s death taught me anything, it’s that we don’t have nearly as much time on this earth as we think we do. And if we want something, there’s no time like the present to grab it. Plus, I figured...” Austin’s smile was rueful. “We’re older now. Theoretically wiser. If we’d dated as teenagers and it hadn’t worked out, what are the odds we would’ve stayed friends?”
“Not high.”
“Exactly. Now though? I think we’d be okay.”
“Sure. After a lengthy period of grieving what could’ve been.”
A glint entered Austin’s eyes, and his smile turned smug in a way that shouldn’t have been attractive, yet somehow was. “You’d grieve if we didn’t work out?”
Cal casually sipped his beer. “Maybe for a day or two.”
Austin laughed, bright and airy, and Cal grinned back at him.
“Getting back to the Norway thing,” Cal said. “Everything you just said is why you should take the job.”
Austin pushed the orzo around again, this time piling it onto his fork and popping it into his mouth. “What do you mean?”
“You said, and I quote, ‘If we want something, there’s no time like the present to grab it.’”
Austin didn’t look pleased to have his words parroted back at him. “That’s not the same thing.”
“It’s exactly the same thing. You want the job, Austin. Take it.”
Blowing out an audible breath through his nose, Austin ran a hand through his hair. “Hedda invited me to visit the school so she can introduce me to some of the faculty, the students, and the town.”
“When are you going?” Cal asked, not bothering to ask if he was going. The desire was written all over Austin’s face.
“I don’t have any workshops scheduled for the week of the Fourth of July.”
So in about a week, then.
“You’ll miss Windsor Ranch’s annual Fourth of July party,” Cal pointed out.
Austin snorted a laugh. “Considering how many people flock to the ranch for it, I doubt anyone will miss me.”
“I will,” Cal said quietly.
Austin’s gaze snapped to his. He swallowed visibly and his lips quirked in the tiniest of pleased smiles that made Cal’s breath catch. “Come with me to Norway.”
“Christ.” Cal groaned, wishing for perhaps the first time in his life that he had a normal nine-to-five job and could take off for a week without too much trouble. “I’m sorry, Austin. I wish I could.”
“Yeah. I figured.” Austin didn’t look disappointed, more resigned, like he’d known Cal’s answer before he’d even asked. “Couldn’t hurt to ask though.” He waved his fork at Cal. “Speaking of reasons you can’t take a week off on short notice, how was your day?”
They chatted through the rest of dinner, about their days, their weeks, and about Cal’s mom, who of course Cal made time in his day to help. He’d felt guilty as hell, so instead of sending her the link to The Mountain Peak Diner’s app like he’d said he would, he’d arrived early the day after her fall to prep two days’ worth of lunch and dinners. That way he wouldn’t have to see her every day, just every other day when he went back to meal prep for the next two days. He was lucky he hadn’t been asked to do her laundry or change her bedsheets or take the garbage out, but those summons likely weren’t too far off. And they’d arrive, as was habit for Barbara, in the middle of his workday because it has to be done now, Cal. I expect you in the next twenty minutes.
Maybe, someday, Cal would get a thank-you for his troubles. A tiny bit of acknowledgment that his support was appreciated.
“Why not prep breakfast too?” Austin asked as they cleaned up after dinner.
“How hard is it to pop bread in the toaster?”
He expected Austin to laugh. Instead, he was bent over the Tupperware drawer, muttering to himself about whether Cal’s leftovers should go in a glass container or plastic and “Should I make extra orzo? We ate most of it. I can’t send you home with just chicken. Then it’s just chicken. Not an orzo chicken skillet.”
“Uh...”
“I should definitely make more.” He closed the drawer, then opened the cupboard next to it, extracting a pot. “Can you grab the bag of orzo out of the pantry?”
Cal squinted at him, noting the jerky movements, rapid-fire speech, and uncharacteristic rambling. “Austin?”
“Hm?”
“Why are you nervous?”
“Because!” Austin kicked the cupboard closed. “I don’t know what I’m doing. Dinner’s done and... what now? Do I take you to bed? Do we watch a movie? Do I offer you dessert, or do I offer you dessert ? Should we go for a walk? Should we sit outside with a beer?”
“You could walk me home,” Cal interrupted before Austin could work himself up further.
The disappointment that swept over Austin’s features and left his shoulders drooping came on so fast that it left Cal momentarily stunned. “Oh. Home. Right. Sure. I can?—”
“Isn’t that how first dates normally go? One person takes the other home, walks them to their door, and they share a first-date goodnight kiss?”
Austin blinked once, the light coming back into his eyes. “Yes. Yes . That is absolutely how every first date goes.” He gently slapped Cal across the chest with the back of his hand as he marched past him to the door. “Let’s go, Calvin.”
Cal went.
* * *
Austin didn’t know where this sudden bout of nerves had come from, but he wasn’t a fan. Just that it had occurred to him, as they’d been cleaning up, that the after-dinner portion of the evening was usually when things happened. And he didn’t know how to approach that. Frankly, he was convinced he’d missed his chance. When they’d been talking earlier, about how long Austin had had feelings for Cal, that had been Austin’s moment. With Cal looking at him like he was the answer to his every question, Austin should’ve leaned over the table and kissed him.
But he hadn’t—mainly because the table was wide, and leaning over it to get to Cal would’ve put him practically in his plate—and he’d squandered his opportunity.
At least, he’d thought so, anyway.
Dusk had turned to night, and though the temperature had cooled, Austin’s skin felt hot. Stars winked around scattered clouds above, and as Cal walked under one of the few streetlamps lining their street, he handed Austin the bag of Twizzlers Austin hadn’t noticed he’d brought along.
Austin had never wished more for his camera than he did in this second. Cal’s outstretched arm dusted with dark hairs and corded with muscle, holding a bag of candy neither of them apparently liked all that much... it symbolized so much more than the sharing of a treat.
It was a hand to reach for in the darkness.
It was a shoulder to lean on when things were tough.
It was a phone call when a friendly voice was needed.
It was unconditional friendship and immediate support—and a willingness to go along with the other when one of them had a dumbass idea. Like dating.
Austin wanted a photo of Cal’s arm reaching out to him with that bag of candy.
Because it was and always had been about more than that.
Since he didn’t have his camera, Austin took a mental snapshot and added the photo to his mental Cal album that was already brimming with candids.
Austin wrapped his fingers around Cal’s wrist. With the other hand, he took the Twizzlers from Cal but didn’t pull one out. Just let the bag dangle from his fingertips as he tangled the fingers of his other hand with Cal’s. “What changed your mind?”
Cal’s steps slowed until he stopped on the sidewalk in front of his house. His gaze slipped down to their hands, then met Austin’s. “About?”
Austin squeezed their fingers. “This. I sensed some reticence when I first asked.”
Cal regarded him in silence for so long that Austin began to fidget.
“You said you’ve had feelings for me for a long time.” Cal’s voice was a breathy murmur in the darkness, sending shivers down Austin’s spine. “Well, I’ve had feelings for you for just as long.”
Austin’s heart skipped a beat, a second, before catching up to itself in a speed best reserved for physical activity. “What? But I... You... I didn’t know that.” Had never suspected. How had he never suspected?
Cal’s lips quirked. “You don’t know everything about me.”
“Lies!”
Cal chuckled. “My point,” he said, tugging on Austin’s hand, drawing him an inch closer, “is that this is important to me. Our friendship. It’s the most important thing in my life. So yes, there was reticence, but it came from a place of fear. Because I can’t lose this, Austin. I can’t.”
“You won’t.” Austin surged into Cal’s space, closing the distance between them. “You won’t. I promise.”
“You can’t make that kind of promise.” Cal’s other hand came up to rest at Austin’s hip. “Neither of us knows what tomorrow will bring.”
“But I can promise you won’t lose me.” Austin untangled their fingers and dropped the Twizzlers to the ground so he could clutch the front of Cal’s T-shirt with both hands. “No matter what happens between us or how this plays out, I can promise that, unless I get hit by the proverbial bus tomorrow, you won’t lose my friendship. It’s the most important thing to me too.”
Cal squeezed his hip. “Friends first.”
“Friends always,” Austin vowed.
“Okay,” Cal said softly. He brought his other hand up, palm flattening against Austin’s lower back.
Austin gulped.
“Still going to walk me to my door?” Cal asked, his mouth against Austin’s cheek.
“Uh-huh,” Austin managed.
“Still going to kiss me goodnight?”
“Uh-huh.”
Austin wasn’t sure how it had happened—Cal becoming the pursuer and Austin the pursued—but he was totally here for the role reversal.
Cal swept his hand up Austin’s back and pressed against his spine. Austin’s head—hell, his entire body—went floaty.
“Think we’ll make it to my door?”
Austin smiled against Cal’s lips. “Doubtful.”
Their lips met, and they skipped past tentative and ran right to smoldering.
That first taste was electric. Turned Austin’s bones to liquid as he held on to Cal, the heat of him nearly burning through Austin. They were the same height, but since Cal was muscle on top of muscle, Austin felt surrounded in the best way possible. In a way that made him want to surrender to this man who was now both friend and something more.
Cal cupped his jaw, coaxing him to open wider, and practically devoured Austin’s mouth. Austin moaned, the top of his head flying off when Cal dipped one hand down the back of his jeans. His cock plumped faster than it ever had, pressing against Cal’s thigh, and he could feel Cal’s erection against his own thigh, hard and hot, and fuck . Austin was tempted to sink to his knees right here on the sidewalk and give the neighbors a show.
God. Cal kissed him like he was starving. Was there anything sexier than that? Than being the sole focus of Cal’s attention and desire?
“Jesus,” Austin gasped, coming up for air.
Cal guided his head back where he wanted it with a murmured, “Come back,” then captured his mouth again, his tongue tangoing with Austin’s. Christ, if Cal taking what he wanted wasn’t the sexiest thing ever.
Cal had always been one of the few people in Austin’s life that he’d lay down his life for. Now he’d happily lay his body out too. His heart. His soul.
All of it was Cal’s, for better or worse.
Austin carded his fingers through Cal’s hair and tugged. “Come back home with me.”
“Mine’s closer.”
They tumbled into Cal’s house a minute later, all searching hands and heavy breathing and muttered curses as they tripped over their own feet. Laughing, Austin landed with his back against the wall next to the door. Cal fell on top of him, and even in the darkened foyer, he found Austin’s lips without effort.
Austin groaned into him and wrapped his arms around Cal’s back, hiking his T-shirt up until he got his hands on hot skin. Cal reared back for the second it took for him to yank the shirt off. Then he was back, giving Austin full access to his naked chest. God, Cal was hard everywhere and there was a mat of fur between his pecs that?—
Cal squeezed Austin’s erection through his jeans and his head fell back, thumping against the wall. “Fuck. Cal. Want to taste you.”
“Later,” Cal said, low and rough, his voice dragging sensually over Austin’s skin. Cal unzipped his own jeans and tugged out his dick. Austin’s mouth watered, and he might’ve whimpered in desperation, but then Cal unzipped Austin’s pants and got his dick out. The sight of their erections nestled together in Cal’s large hand was probably the hottest thing Austin had ever seen.
Cal spat into his palm—which, gross, but also so hot—and using a combination of spit and their pre-come, jacked them.
Austin made an incoherent ungh sound and held on to Cal for dear life.
Heat shot down his spine to pool in his balls, and with Cal’s hand on his dick and Cal’s grunts filling the air, Austin lost it. He lasted an embarrassingly short time, but, gratifyingly, so did Cal. They came almost in tandem, spilling over Cal’s hand.
Sweat trickling into his eye, Austin slumped against the wall. When Cal slumped against him , tucking his face into Austin’s neck with a sigh, Austin found the energy to wrap one arm around his shoulders. He let out a soft laugh because—Jesus. He hadn’t expected that . Not tonight.
That was the thing about Cal though—it could take him eons to make a decision, but once he did, he was all in, no looking back.
“Man, I wish The Mountain Peak Diner delivered after eight. I could really go for their strawberry shortcake right now.”
Cal lifted his head and stared incredulously at him. “ That’s what you’re thinking about?”
Austin grinned. “Think about it. Sex and dessert? What’s better than that?”
“I have?—”
“Don’t say Twizzlers. Especially since they’re somewhere out on the sidewalk.”
Cal clacked his mouth shut. Thought for a second. Said, “Crackers and peanut butter?”
“I’ll take it.”
* * *
They cleaned up first. They were sticky and messy and sweaty, so they stood shoulder to shoulder in Cal’s tiny bathroom, washcloths in hand, furtively sneaking glances at each other’s junk like they were teenagers in a locker room. The whole thing was so silly that when Austin caught Cal’s eye in the mirror, he couldn’t help but laugh.
“What?” Cal asked.
“Just... nothing.” He shook his head, chuckling under his breath. It’d been a long time since he’d felt this good. It wasn’t the kind of good that came with an amazing orgasm, although that was certainly true too. It was the kind of good that came with being deliriously happy. The kind of happy that reminded him of champagne bubbles and balloons floating up to the clouds and the first stars winking to life on a cloudless evening.
Once they’d washed up, they sat on the couch in boxer briefs and T-shirts, crackers, a jar of peanut butter, and several butter knives cluttering up the coffee table. Austin sat sideways, his feet tucked under Cal’s butt, and licked peanut butter off his knife.
“How did I know you would do that?” Cal picked one of the clean knives off the table and handed it to Austin. “Here.”
“I already have one.”
Cal narrowed his gaze. “You’re not putting that back in the jar.”
“Think about what we just did and say that to me again.”
“That’s different.”
“Why?”
“Just use a clean knife if you want more peanut butter, will you?”
He sounded so fondly exasperated it made Austin grin.
“Fine.” Austin took the clean knife and wiggled his toes to tickle Cal’s butt.
Cal shot him a look .
Austin’s smile widened. “So tell me... when did you know?”
“That I had feelings for you?” Cal slathered peanut butter onto a cracker, then pressed another cracker on top, making a sandwich. “You just want me to stroke your ego.”
“Maybe a little,” Austin admitted.
“Well, I hate to break it to you, but I don’t know. Truly,” Cal added when it was Austin’s turn to shoot him a look . “They developed gradually over time. There wasn’t a single defining moment where I said Him. I want him. Or if there was, I don’t remember what it was. How about you?”
“Eleventh grade biology,” Austin said promptly. “You were paired with Sarina on the frog dissection, remember? My god, the way she flirted with you...” He stabbed his knife into the peanut butter jar and swirled it around. “At first I thought I was jealous because you were my best friend. You should’ve been laughing like that with me . But then one day she leaned closer to say something in your ear, and she put her hand on your arm, and...” Stab, stab, stab. “I wanted to commit murder.”
“Okay.” Cal pried the jar out of Austin’s hands and set it aside. “No more peanut butter for you. I don’t think it can withstand your murderous instincts.”
“When I saw that message from AmeliaJ,” Austin went on, as though Cal had never interrupted, “it was Sarina all over again.”
“AmeliaJ?”
“The woman who messaged you on the dating app.”
Frowning, Cal stared at him for a moment before it seemed to hit him. “Right. I remember. I canceled that date.”
“I should hope so.”
“So that’s why you asked me out. Then, I mean, and not six months ago or two months from now.” Cal smirked, and it lit up his eyes. “You were jealous.”
“Uh, yeah ,” Austin said shamelessly. “If you’re going to date someone, it’s going to be me. Not someone named Amelia .”
“That’s a perfectly reasonable name,” Cal said, clearly trying not to laugh.
“She sounds peppy.”
“Maybe she is.”
Austin pulled one foot from under Cal’s butt and poked him in the thigh with it. “But we’ll never find out,” he said pointedly.
“No, I don’t suppose we will.”
The easy agreement settled something in Austin’s chest. “Can I have the peanut butter back now?”
“Only if you promise not to murder it.” Cal handed it back.
“Only with my mouth.”
They stared at each other for a moment, a light dancing in Cal’s eyes, his lips twitching like he wanted to laugh.
“That made more sense in my head.”
Cal did laugh then, the sound enveloping Austin like a hug. “Sure, Austin.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, munching on crackers and passing the jar of peanut butter back and forth. It reminded him a bit of evenings spent in Lindsay’s dorm room, watching a movie or working on a project while eating bad cafeteria pizza.
There’d been an easiness with Lindsay too, similar to the one he shared with Cal, yet different. With Lindsay, especially at the beginning, there’d been the joy of discovery and learning all about another person. Their quirks, their values, their dreams. With Cal, that part was already done, so there was a familiarity and coziness between them that settled into Austin’s skin like a tattoo.
What must it have been like for Cal when Austin brought Lindsay home for Christmas vacation their sophomore year? Cal had never dated much, and Austin couldn’t help but wonder... Was that because he didn’t want to? Because he didn’t connect easily with other people?
Or because he’d been carrying a torch for Austin all these years?
That thought made him incredibly sad, but as much as he wanted the answer to that question, there was one he wanted more.
Setting his plate on the coffee table, he placed the jar of peanut butter on the couch between them. “How did you feel when Lindsay and I got married? Was it bad for you?”
Cal had been Austin’s best man. He’d had to stand by Austin’s side while Austin married someone else. Had to stand up in front of everyone and give a speech as though his heart hadn’t been breaking.
Lindsay, you fit Austin like an old cowboy boot , Cal had said during his speech. He couldn’t have found someone better to love him.
Austin blinked back tears at the memory. At the time, they’d brought him so much joy and comfort. Now, they were shadowed by knowing Cal had to have been hurting.
“No, it wasn’t bad,” Cal said. He, too, set his plate aside, and he cupped one of Austin’s knees with his big hand. His palm was rough against Austin’s naked skin, sending goosebumps up his leg. “Your wedding was inevitable,” Cal continued. “I always knew you weren’t meant for me. You said you didn’t think we could ever be a possibility back then? Well, neither did I. So you getting married...” He paused there and ran his free hand over his face, gaze going distant.
“It must’ve hurt you,” Austin said quietly.
“No,” Cal said quickly. “Like I said, I always knew you weren’t for me, so when you got married, it was like being proven right. You were so goddamn happy, Austin. I was just happy that you were happy, and I would’ve continued being happy for you even if Lindsay had lived and you’d had those two-point-five kids and a dog you guys wanted.”
“Screw the dog,” Austin muttered, his attempt at levity to rid himself of the tears in his eyes. The joke fell flat between them, sagging like a popped balloon.
Cal had always been selfless, but this... This was on another level.
He brought a hand up to cup Cal’s face, sweeping his thumb over his stubbled jaw. I love you , he wanted to say. I love you so fucking much .
But he couldn’t. This was too new, too fresh, barely a few hours old. If he wanted this to work long-term— god, he wanted this to work long-term, wanted it forever—he needed to take things slow. One day at a time. Make sure they fit as a couple as well as friends.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
But Cal shook his head. “There’s no need to be sorry. You were living your life; I was living mine. Just like we were supposed to. No sorry needed.”
“And now we’re living it... together.”
“Yeah.” Cal dipped forward to kiss him softly. “I suppose we are.”