“I missed you,” he finally mumbled into my shoulder.
I clung tighter, needing him to need me. “I’m here for you. Always.”
“You’re the only one.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Want to fuck?”
He snorted a laugh, and I grinned against his ear. Cal didn’t answer but twisted his hands in my sweater. I wiggled out of my coat, then wrapped myself back around him. He snuggled closer.
“Should I be worried?” I asked.
“No. I just don’t want to talk.”
“I’m good with that.”
No talking. No fucking. I turned us and untangled his arms so I could sit on the sofa, then patted my thigh. Cal slumped heavily forward, collapsing along the length of the cushions. As I’d instructed, he laid his head on my lap and curled an arm around my leg.
Without asking, I reached for the hem of his shirt. He didn’t protest as I lifted it to inspect the damage Sasha had done, but he did hold his breath.
She’d aimed for the same spot each time, and thank fuck she hadn’t actually had a knife.
A good-sized bruise had formed on Cal’s left pec. I traced the outer edges of purple tint, staying away from the darker red splotches at the center.
“Does it hurt?”
Cal exhaled and nodded as I lowered the material into place with shaking hands.
This had to end. If he wouldn’t speak up, then I fucking would. Maybe it’d hurt what we had, but I’d rather put a strain on us, what we had together, than see him suffer any more. I couldn’t do it. Iwouldn’tdo it.
I blinked back angry, frustrated tears as I sniffled and scratched my blunt nails through his thick hair, using the repetition to help calm my breathing.
Cal hummed and closed his eyes. God, he was beautiful. All big and muscular with striking features and colors making him so unique. His wavy locks were so bright against his caramel-honey skin. His tan lips were full and soft. His regal nose had a natural flare that almost made him seem pissed at any given second, but then his eyes told the truth. So light blue, like a summer sky, like a dream, they seemed unnatural but weren’t. When taking his features individually, Cal could almost be pretty, my pretty princess. But put together, he was the sexiest man I’d ever seen.
And this beyond-gorgeous man lay broken in my lap. In this moment, I hated the world on his behalf. He cared too much,carriedtoo much. The world needed Cal’s smiles but seemed to despise them.
I laid my head on the cushion and closed my eyes, content to let him rest on me as I played with his hair. We sat like that, unmoving, existing, until we both fell asleep.
Cal jerked upright when the garage door slammed.
“Fuck,” he whispered as he scrambled off me to stand.
I wasn’t quite to my feet yet when his dad marched into the room. I’d never met Martin Winters formally, and for a secondor two, we sort of stared at each other. Cal and I weren’t caught doing anything, just here together—in the dark living room—but his glare was full of accusation.
Mr. Winters clamped down on whatever he’d been thinking and turned to face Cal. “Tell your friend to go home,” he said, then flipped a switch on the wall, flooding the room with light.
Cal winced with the bright intrusion. “Daddy, this is—”
“I didn’t ask, and I don’t care,” Mr. Winters barked. He scrubbed a hand through his dark hair, so unlike Cal’s. “You’re in a heap of trouble this time, Calvin. Do you really want your friend to witness this?”
My mind spun a few rounds. What did he mean? It was only detention, not suspension. I stood frozen, waiting for Cal to tell me to leave or stay. I wanted to reach for him, to hold his hand, to press against his back, anything to show him I was here, that I’d be in his corner no matter what he needed.
The pause must’ve been too long, toosomething. Mr. Winters wrestled his coat free as if it offended him and slung it over a chair. He pivoted back to us with his hands on his hips, then paced left and right.
“What in the hell has gotten into you this year?” He didn’t seem to want answers since he never allowed one. “Pranks, fighting, detentions, and not just fighting with athletes but your girlfriend?”
