Chapter 9 #2
“I guess that would be me?” He indicated the can and smiled. A dimple appeared in his right cheek, and Caleb felt like he deserved a fucking medal for earning it.
“Yeah. You love to make fun of my Americanisms.”
With a small chuckle, Jamie’s eyes continued their exploration. His gaze landed on the fridge. “Oh, shit. Your birthday…”
Goddamn it. The fridge calendar. Caleb hadn’t bothered to change it to February, with all the chaos of the accident, and it still had a big circle on it with hearts and balloons and screamed Caleb’s birthday!
Caleb shuffled in front of the fridge to block it.
“Oh, it’s fine. Sorry, I tried to clean up before you got here.
” He winced, thinking about having to toss away all of the birthday decorations that Jamie bought for his surprise party.
Or all those cupcakes that he didn’t have the appetite to enjoy. The risotto ingredients…
“I’m sorry,” Jamie said quietly. “I’ll get you something for your birthday, I promise.”
“You actually already did.” Caleb turned and opened the door to the hall closet. He pulled out the brand new, way-too-expensive athletic bag that Jamie had presented to him a few days before his birthday, too impatient to wait.
“Oh.” Jamie’s eyes locked on the bag. He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it. With a sniff, he said. “Right.”
Right.
Caleb was starting to hate that word.
He tucked the bag back into the closet. “I know it’s kind of late, so, uh, well, everything’s in the bedroom for you. I put your bag in there. I’m still off work for the next few days, so I will be around. If you, uh, need anything.” When had he become so fucking awkward?
“Thank you.” Jamie stared down into his tea and then glanced at the bedroom. “Will you… Are you also going to—?”
“Oh, no. I’m sleeping on the couch,” Caleb said quickly, pointing towards the pillow and blanket he put out for himself.
“What?” Jamie’s gaze snapped up in alarm. “I’m not going to make you sleep on the sofa in your own home.”
“It’s our home, and I don’t mind. It’s important for you to get sleep and rest. Our couch is perfectly comfortable. Trust me, we fall asleep out here all the time.”
Jamie’s gaze flicked to the couch, as if he were conjuring an image of them snuggled up and watching a movie. His green eyes softened with something that looked a lot like longing.
If this were any other day, Caleb would move around the counter and slide his arms around Jamie’s shoulders.
He would pull him tight to his chest until the tension melted out of him and press his nose into his curls.
Jamie’s mouth would open on a sigh, his thick eyelashes fluttering shut over sleepy eyes, and Caleb would say into the skin of his neck, “It will be okay, sweetheart.”
But this wasn’t any other day. And Jamie wouldn’t want that. Would he ever want that again?
Caleb quickly killed that miserable train of thought and said, “I’ll just brush my teeth real quick, and then the room is yours.”
Caleb bolted to their bathroom and quickly freshened up.
With great determination, he tried to avoid looking at his reflection.
He hadn’t been getting much sleep lately and probably looked like actual garbage.
A shower would be needed in the morning, and he’d have plenty of time to take one while Jamie was on his morning bike ride—
He froze with his toothbrush hanging from his mouth. Shit. Jamie wasn’t allowed to bike. What would Jamie do tomorrow if he couldn’t go for a morning ride? Caleb had never known a Jamie who couldn’t go on his morning ride.
This whole fucked up situation was so hard for Caleb, but he couldn’t even fathom how hard it was for Jamie.
How miserable it must be for him to not be able to do the things he loved.
Or, even, feel like himself. Caleb was so focused on how this affected him and his future with Jamie—their wedding plans and all of their dreams.
Forcing himself to look in the mirror, Caleb made a promise that, no matter what, he would help Jamie get back to feeling like himself.
Even if it meant losing him.
Jamie stood frozen beside the telly, tea cooling in his hand.
He couldn’t stop staring at the framed photograph that hung on the wall.
It was centered between a photo of Caleb holding a football at Ohio State and one of him with a woman.
A family member, perhaps. She had the same warm, brown skin and brown eyes, possibly a few years younger than him.
In the center photo, he and Caleb were dressed up for some sort of function—a wedding, maybe—caught mid-laughter over a long-forgotten joke.
Photograph Jamie stared straight into the camera, eyes squinting with laughter.
Caleb had an arm around his shoulders, staring at Jamie like he was the sun itself.
A hurricane of emotions slammed into Jamie so hard he wobbled. For a split second, he swore he could feel the ghost of Caleb’s hand around his shoulder.
A flicker of joy bloomed in his chest for the version of himself who looked so bloody happy, quickly crushed by a pang of… jealousy? Resentment? He couldn’t be sure.
Photograph Jamie looked so comfortable in his own skin. Confident and assured and extremely not how he felt today. Or any day, really.
The last feeling to settle into his chest was a deep, endless sadness. What had happened to the love in that photo? To what those two men shared? Had it vanished the moment the bus took him off his bike?
This moment was gone. Gone. And he could never, ever get it back…
“Jamie?”
“Yeah?” Jamie sniffed and wiped his face. Fucking hell, when had he started crying?
“Jamie?” Caleb’s voice turned more urgent and was a bit closer now. Jamie turned his head away from it.
“Oh, love—” Caleb’s hand landed on Jamie’s shoulder. It lingered a moment before he pulled it back, as if he thought better of it.
Jamie felt its loss immediately. “I’m okay. I’m so sorry. Not sure why I’m getting so bloody emotional over a photograph.”
When he turned, Caleb’s brown eyes were narrowed with concern. He glanced at the photograph and then back to Jamie.
“I know it’s a lot. I’m sorry, I tried to take anything down that might be… triggering. I forgot about this one.”
“No, no.” Jamie turned toward Caleb. He’d donned a tight, black shirt that fit him perfectly. It looked soft to the touch. “I really don’t want you to go through any more trouble. I’m just adjusting. I’ll be okay.”
Jamie’s heart flipped as Caleb’s gaze traced the tears slipping down his cheeks and then dipped to his lips.
He was closer now, his hands dangling uselessly at his side, as though he couldn’t decide what to do with them.
Jamie had to fight the urge to close the distance himself, to rush straight into Caleb’s arms.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Caleb asked.
“I…I’ll be okay.”
The most unexpected part of the amnesia was the constant war inside Jamie. A tug-of-war between instinct and reason. His mind urged him to step away from a stranger, while his body pulled him closer, desperate for safety.
Who are you?
I want you.
The push-and-pull was exhausting.
Caleb seemed to be fighting a similar battle. After a moment’s hesitation, he made up his mind and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his joggers.
“I should probably go to bed. I’m knackered,” Jamie whispered, though his body seemed to gravitate even closer to Caleb’s. His head felt a little dizzy, and he realized he could feel the warmth radiating from his body.
“Right,” Caleb breathed. Maybe Jamie was imagining it, but his eyelids looked heavier, eyes a bit darker.
Taking a step back, Jamie turned to the sofa and froze.
Images of that night flashed in his mind.
The way Caleb had pulled him close, dropped to his knees, and wrapped his soft mouth around Jamie’s cock.
The way he’d sucked him off slow and torturously, and then brought him to the bedroom and held him—
Jamie swallowed.
“Everything okay?” Caleb asked, stepping up behind him. Jamie blinked, embarrassed to be caught staring dumbly at a sofa.
“Erm—yes. Yep.” He spun around and bumped straight into Caleb’s chest.
Strong hands caught his shoulders to steady him, and Jamie felt his ears burn. God, he was such a bumbling idiot.
“Goodnight,” he blurted.
Caleb’s hands slid down Jamie’s arms until their fingers met. His eyes dropped to their joined hands for a breath. With a soft squeeze, he let go and stepped back.
“Night, Jamie.”