Page 63 of Caden & Theo

“Not long,” he says, pulling out of the lot. His eyes flick toward me. “I’ve gotta be back in my own bed by tomorrow night. Game’s early Sunday.”

Disappointment hits hard, but I nod. “Still… I can’t believe you came.”

“Yeah, well.” He slips his fingers between mine over the center console. “Phone tag sucks. And I needed to see you. Thought I’d surprise you.”

“You did,” I say, voice soft. “Best surprise ever.”

We drive in silence for a few minutes. The city thins around us, turning from clamor to hush. The windows are cracked an inch, and the February air curls around us, clean and cold. The buzz in my head from the club, from the drinks, from the ache of missing him, it all starts to ease. I can breathe again.

“I’m alone tonight,” I tell him. “Housemates are all out. You’ve got me for the whole night.”

“Perfect,” he says, voice low and thick, like that means more than I can even begin to process. “I plan to take full advantage.”

I laugh. I can’t help it. Then I glance at him, sobering. “Hey, so… how’s everything going? With the team?”

He’s quiet for a beat, then exhales, like he’s been holding that question in his chest too long. “Good,” he says finally. “Better than expected. I’ve been getting more minutes lately. Couple of guys got banged up, so Coach pulled me into rotation. He told me today.”

“That’s huge,” I say, heart swelling. “That’ssohuge, Cade.”

“I mean, I’m not starting. And it’s not guaranteed. But it’s something. They’re saying if I stay consistent, there’s a shot they keep me up through the end of the season.”

“I knew it,” I whisper. “You’ve worked your ass off for this.”

He shoots me a quick look—something soft, like pride edged with disbelief. “Coming from you, that means everything.”

We pull into my building’s lot. He cuts the engine and just sits there for a second, eyes trained on the wheel. I watch him in the glow of the streetlamp—his jaw tight, shoulders tense under the hoodie.

“You okay?” I ask.

He nods. “Yeah. Just… tired. The travel. The uncertainty. I don’t want to get sent back down, Theo. I want to stay. I want tobelong.”

I reach for him and let my hand rest on the side of his face, thumb brushing his cheekbone. “Youdobelong.”

He turns into the touch, eyes fluttering closed. “Say that again.”

“You belong, Caden.”

He leans across the console, and this time when he kisses me, it’s different. It’s not rushed. Not hungry. Just… real. Full of everything we don’t say face-to-face often enough.

Once we’re upstairs, the door barely shuts behind us before we’re on each other again. My jacket and his hoodie hit the floor. Shoes get kicked off. Our mouths crash together in the low light of my bedroom. There’s laughter in it, the kind that comes from relief. From finally being in the same place again.

Caden backs me toward my bed, his hands slipping beneath the hem of my shirt, rough palms against skin. “You feel so good,” he murmurs, kissing down the side of my throat. “You always do.”

“I didn’t know I could miss someone like this,” I breathe. “I thought it would get easier.”

He pulls back to meet my eyes. “Me too. I thought I’d get used to it.”

And then we’re kissing again—open-mouthed, deep, messy in a way that makes my knees weak. His tongue slides confidently, slowly against mine. He knows what I like. What makes me gasp. What makes me melt. My fingers curl into the hem of his tee, dragging it upward, revealing warm skin and the curve of his waist. He helps me strip it off, and then we’re chest to chest.

When he pushes me gently down onto the bed, he follows, bracing himself above me with a smile that’s all trouble. “I’ve got you,” he says, voice thick with promise. “All night.”

“Prove it,” I challenge, grinning up at him, even as my chest tightens around something deeper—need, trust, the ache of weeks apart.

His eyes darken, but it’s not just lust. It’s that quiet, serious focus he only ever gives to the things that matter most. “You think I came all this way not to?” He kisses me again—longer thistime. Slower. His hand cups my jaw, thumb brushing along my cheekbone.

“I missed you,” he murmurs into my skin as his lips move lower, trailing across my jaw, down the line of my throat. “God, I missed you.”

I close my eyes and tilt my head to give him more. “It’s been too long.”