Page 41 of Caden & Theo

Clothes come off in uneven bursts: a sock here, my shirt over my head, his hoodie tugged with a shared grin. Clumsy. Beautiful. Our fingers keep brushing, catching, like we’re drunk on permission.

And when his shirt lifts, and I see him,reallysee him, I forget how to breathe.

He’s changed since he left for college. Iknewhe had, saw it for myself last night and this morning, plus he’d mentioned that the coach said he’s grown an inch and that he’s been lifting harder since training, but seeing him now, bare skinned, it hits me like gravity.

Caden’s chest is cut, lean muscle carved in sharp, clean lines down his torso. His abs catch the soft light from the window—not gym-rat ripped, but athlete strong, all fluid strength and purpose. His shoulders are broader, arms thicker with power he wears without trying. Everything about him feels refined, sharpened. Like the boy who first caught my eye has quietly grown into the man I can’t stop looking at.

His skin glows dark brown in the low light, warm and velvet smooth. I reach without thinking, running a hand along his side, just under his ribs. He shivers. “I could stare at you all the damn time,” I murmur, almost without meaning to.

He laughs, low and shy, ducking his head. “Yeah? I thought I was imagining that.”

I shake my head, smile tugging at my lips. “Nope. You’re just… unfair.”

His hand skims the waistband of my boxers, thumb brushing just beneath. “Still okay?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

We trade pieces of ourselves in touches and half sentences. My fingers skim the inside of his wrist, and Caden stills. His pulse jumps beneath my thumb.

“You’re shaking,” I murmur.

He huffs out a laugh, breathless. “So are you.”

I lean in and brush my mouth along his jaw. His eyes flutter half-closed, lips parting as though he’s already waiting for me. “You’re beautiful” slips out before I can stop it.

He turns toward me, smile quick and shy, and then it’s gone when our mouths meet. His lips are soft, hesitant, tasting of peppermint gum. I cradle the back of his neck, holding him there, and he exhales against me like the air’s been punched from his chest.

“God, Theo,” he whispers into the kiss, pulling me closer.

The kiss shifts, grows deeper. I take his bottom lip between my teeth and his breath stutters—then he presses back, hungrier, desperate. My hand slides down, over the curve of his hip, and I feel the muscles twitch beneath my palm. He gasps, sharp, and bites his lip to swallow the sound.

“Don’t hide from me,” I whisper, kissing down the line of his throat until I find his collarbone. My words spill against his skin. “I want to hear you.”

His fingers cling to my back. “You’re going to ruin me,” he says, but it’s a laugh, too, trembling and soft.

I press my lips harder to his collarbone, tongue tracing the ridge there. He tilts his head back, offering me more. His breath comes faster, uneven.

“I like when you do that,” I tell him, and he groans, a sound I feel more than hear.

“Is this okay?” he asks again, softer now, voice threaded with awe.

I nod, heart full. “Yes. Every part of it.”

“God,” he murmurs as he grazes his fingertips over my chest. “You’re perfect.”

I laugh, a little breathless. “I think your standards are broken.” But my voice hitches when his palms skim my ribs. I run my hands down his back, feeling the slope of muscle, the ridges of his spine. He’s solid and warm and right here. The realness of him undoes me.

When our mouths meet again, it’s slower. More deliberate. A different kind of hunger, one that’s deeper and aching. My whole body feels lit from within, like someone struck a match inside me and the flames are licking through my veins.

Caden pauses as he unpacks the lube and condoms, awkward as hell, and then glances at me with a sheepish look that’s too endearing for words. “You know I haven’t done this before,” he says, voice low.

“I know,” I say. I’m trying to stay calm, to not let nerves override the way I’m shaking with need. “Me neither.”

He hesitates again, then reaches out like he’s afraid of rushing, of hurting. I lie back on the bed, trying to still my breathing. Every nerve in my body is tingling and wide open.

“You okay?” he whispers.

I nod, pulse pounding in my ears. “Yeah. Just… ready.”