Chapter 21 #2
Jamie stood there like a sap, watching the disco lights flicker over Caleb’s smooth skin, his strong jaw, and…
bloody hell, Jamie wanted him so bad tonight.
It made him hard just thinking about the possibility of Caleb doing things to him in bed tonight.
His body was ravenous for this man, and, by the looks of a few others on the dance floor, he wasn’t the only one.
A small jolt of insecurity flooded his system.
Why me?
Anytime he watched Caleb out in the world, charming every single person he interacted with, Jamie couldn’t help but think those two words.
Why would a gorgeous, talented, kind man like Caleb want… Jamie? He was so ordinary. There was nothing really spectacular about him.
Swallowing hard, Jamie tried to keep both his emotions and his randiness under control. If he were honest with himself, he wanted to be properly fucked tonight. But he understood why Caleb was hesitant, and he was willing to wait.
Willing to show him he wasn’t going anywhere.
“What can I get you, handsome?” the barkeep asked, leaning across the bar. Striking blue eyes dipped to Jamie’s throat and back up, complementing their dyed blue hair and an enormous neck tattoo of a flower.
“Oh, erm… do you have any mocktails?” Jamie asked, his eyes flicking briefly to Caleb. An extremely tall man was approaching him. Did Caleb know him?
“What?” the barkeep yelled, drawing Jamie’s gaze. “You don’t drink?”
“Oh, erm, not really.” Jamie sort of hated having to explain not drinking. With Caleb’s sobriety, it was second nature to always order a mocktail. He pondered if there was a reason Caleb didn’t drink. He hadn’t asked, though surely at one point he knew…
“Do you like lime?” The barkeep asked.
Jamie shrugged. “Sure.”
“Alright then, sweetheart. I can make you something.”
“Two, please.”
Waiting for drinks was awkward. He leaned forward, bracing his hands on the smooth wood, and took a few breaths. Oddly enough, the last time he remembered being in a pub like this before the accident was the night he’d met Caleb.
It wasn’t lost on him how easily he might not have met Caleb that night.
Once Ellie had spotted the Chelsea women’s team, Jamie had decided it was time to leave. Helmet tucked under his arm, he said his goodbyes and turned to go before he’d spotted him.
A tall, confident man standing just behind the team, managing things as the girls posed for selfies and signed autographs. The rest of that night was mostly a blur. He wasn’t sure how long he’d stood there like a lemon, staring at Caleb. Completely entranced.
Caleb always placed himself between the players and strangers, his hands gently resting on shoulders or backs, guiding the flow of movement and space. So aware, and yet incredibly respectful.
And Jamie, like a complete weirdo, had just… stared. When Caleb had caught him looking, he came over and introduced himself politely and offered to have a drink. Jamie didn’t even remember what they talked about, just that his legs had turned to jelly.
That night had changed everything. And now, standing in this dark basement bar, two plastic cups in hand, he felt more committed than ever not to take that night for granted.
With a renewed sense of determination, Jamie turned back to Caleb only to stop dead in his tracks.
Caleb was still swaying to the music, but he wasn’t alone. The tall man stood behind him, arm wrapped low around Caleb’s waist. Caleb smiled softly and leaned back into his embrace. Time slowed to a crawl as Caleb moved lazily in time with the beat, pressed flush against the stranger’s chest.
Jamie’s heart shot into his throat, and, for a moment, he thought he might vomit. His eyes dropped to Caleb’s hips, watching as they ground gently back into the man behind him.
Caleb stiffened and spun in the tall bastard’s arms. As he turned, Jamie saw a series of emotions play over his expression—first confusion, then horror.
Jamie just stood there, mouth open. Hurt and betrayal burned hot in his chest. But as his brain registered Caleb’s panic, it morphed into something much hotter.
Fuck this.
Jamie lifted his chin and stormed toward them, head held high. The tall man turned his head, eyeing up Jamie, before turning and puffing out his chest. He’d never punched anyone before, but tonight might be a first for putting his bloody hands—
“Back off,” Caleb said to the man, stepping between him and Jamie. “Don’t fucking touch me again, understand?”
Jamie swallowed through the hot anger rising in his throat, wishing he could will all the angry words in his brain out. He’s mine. Back the fuck off.
It was too late. Like an idiot, he stood there while Caleb angled himself protectively between Jamie and the tall guy. The wanker rolled his eyes and wandered off with a muttered whatever.
Turning around, Caleb grabbed Jamie’s forearms. “J, I’m so sorry. I thought it was you behind me. I’m a fucking idiot.”
Jamie’s fingers tightened around the plastic cups in his hands. “Are you okay?” It came out more of a squeak, drowned out by the beat of the music. “Did he—?”
Caleb shook his head. “No. I’m fine. I just…” He had to yell over the music. “You know I would never—”
“I know.” Jamie studied him for a moment longer, then pressed one of the mocktails into Caleb’s hand. “Here. It has lime in it.”
He stepped in, reclaiming his place inside Caleb’s strong, perfect arms. They went back to dancing, but by the sway of Caleb’s hips, Jamie could tell he was still feeling bad. All because that stupid wanker thought he could come over here and put his hands on him.
Feeling bold, and maybe a bit possessive, Jamie turned in Caleb’s arms and stared up at him. He sipped the mocktail, hoping he looked somewhat sexy. Something fluttered in his chest as Caleb stared down at him.
He looked at him with a combination of desperate longing and blazing heat. Dipping his head down, Caleb spoke, low and thready. “Jamie.” His breath ghosted Jamie’s neck. “Thank you for tonight.”
Turning his head to the side, he spoke directly into Caleb’s ear. “I’m crazy about you, Caleb,” he said, praying Caleb heard just how serious he was.
“Fuck,” Caleb breathed, pulling back just enough to look at him. His dark eyes dropped to Jamie’s lips. A large hand slid up Jamie’s back, over his shoulder, until it settled along his jaw, thumb brushing the stubble there.
The soft stroke of Caleb’s thumb filled Jamie with a dizzy, blooming joy. Judging by the way Caleb was staring at his mouth, he was probably smiling like an absolute idiot. But he couldn’t bring himself to care. In Caleb’s arms, he felt nothing but warmth and safety.
Caleb didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve the way Jamie did. His emotions lived deep in those dark brown eyes. And right now, they were full of hunger and something that looked dangerously like fear—fear of losing him… again.
“I know you think I don’t know you the way I used to,” Jamie said, pressing closer until their chests touched. “But I do. I feel like I know you. My… my body does.”
Caleb leaned back just enough to study his face, searching for any crack in his resolve. His hand slid to the back of Jamie’s neck and squeezed.
Kiss me. For God’s sake, kiss me.
Caleb’s lips parted. Then, like something inside him finally gave way, he surged forward and captured Jamie’s mouth. At first, it wasn’t soft or sweet, but desperate and hungry. A claim staked in the middle of a crowded dancefloor.
Caleb kissed him like he’d been starving, like his restraint had finally snapped. Jamie’s brain went blissfully blank as his body sang that he had found his way home… finally.
He gasped into Caleb’s mouth, barely keeping hold of his drink as Caleb’s fingers threaded into his hair and tipped his head back, opening him up for more. This was every touch they’d denied themselves, every almost that had ended with them pulling apart.
His knees nearly gave out, and Caleb’s hand slid to his back to keep him upright. Jamie’s cock stirred to life, apparently not understanding that the middle of a dancefloor was not the place for that.
Caleb’s chest vibrated with a low chuckle. “You okay there, J?”
A soft, helpless sound slipped out of Jamie as Caleb eased back. A cheeky grin tugged at his mouth.
“I—that—” His brain was foggy with arousal, words hopelessly out of reach.
Caleb’s thumb brushed over his lower lip, his eyes darkening as he watched the movement.
“Do you have anything else planned for us tonight?” he asked, still a little breathless.
“No, I—that was it,” Jamie managed.
“Good.” Caleb’s lips twitched. “Because I think I’d like to take you home now.”