Page 6

Chapter 6

Caleb

O reos.

Guy almost dies of poisoning, and he asks not for something substantive like beef or potatoes, but chocolate cookies. Apparently, Caleb’s houseguest had the self-preservation instinct of a magpie.

Caleb stared at the wall of milk in the grocery store. He only ever bought the whole kind. Did a tiny guy who spent all day in the gym want the low-fat one? He looked down at the packs of cookies in his basket and shook his head.

No way. The regular full-fat kind it was. He grabbed a gallon instead of his usual half gallon and tried not to think about the plastic waste. It wasn’t like he was going to buy a cow, so there wasn’t much to be done about it.

He still wasn’t sure what he was doing. Why hadn’t he called someone to come take Jasper Jones off his hands, since he clearly needed help Caleb couldn’t provide if he thought poison flowers were going to “fix” him?

Jasper Jones. He sounded like a cartoon character and looked like one of those twinky little internet models with his messy blond hair and come-hither eyes.

He’d also looked at Caleb like he wanted to eat him alive, and not in a cannibalistic kind of way.

Under that hooded gaze, all he’d been able to do was grab his keys and run out the door as fast as possible. The man had almost died. Caleb was not going to fuck him when his body was already so overtaxed.

Even if it was tempting.

He filled his cart as he wandered through the store, not in his usual efficient way, reading items from a list compiled in order of when he passed their aisles on his regular route through the store, but at random, and whatever struck his fancy.

Apparently, his fancy was a lot of carbs and not much else. He was going to get home with the ingredients to make a bread sandwich. Or a cookie one.

That seemed like an excellent plan.

He sighed and took another turn through the entire store, trying to make better choices.

More time around people, and all because his entire day had been thrown into an uproar over an adorable twink who thought he needed to be “fixed.”

When he got home, Jasper was wrapped in a throw blanket from his couch, looking through a list on his TV. He hadn’t realized he had such a thing on the television. Maybe he didn’t, though, since in the corner it said, “Welcome, Jasper.”

He looked over and glanced down at the floor. “I hope you don’t mind I connected it to my account. You didn’t have any logins for streaming services stored, so I used my own.”

Caleb stared at him blankly for a second before shrugging. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” He headed for the kitchen counter with his back to Jasper, so the man wouldn’t see him blush as he admitted, “I’ve never actually turned the thing on. It was in the cabin when I bought it. My sister had a dish installed, but she’s the one obsessed with TV.”

There was a short silence, followed by a hesitant, “Did you just buy the place?”

“Ten years ago,” Caleb muttered, but he didn’t turn around to see if Jasper had heard.

The silence returned for a long time, so maybe he hadn’t and was still waiting for an answer. Caleb turned after putting the vegetables in the crisper, to repeat himself, and almost jumped to find Jasper standing in the kitchen, blanket still wrapped around his shoulders.

“Can I help?”

Caleb grabbed a glass and the gallon of milk and set them in front of Jasper, then slid across a bag of cookies. “You can eat. You look like you’re going to fall down.”

Jasper gave him a sad smile but did as commanded, pouring a glass of milk and opening a bag of cookies as Caleb finished putting the groceries away.

Something about the younger man’s posture, the slump of his shoulders and hang of his head, set Caleb’s teeth on edge. It was wrong. They guy was young, good looking, and obviously had money, going by his designer ripped jeans and brand new hiking boots. Nobody like that should be so unhappy.

Just as Caleb was finishing with the last bag, Jasper spoke up again. “Would you like to watch some TV with me? I guess it’s not your thing, but there’s this show I bet you’ll like. You remind me of one of the characters.”

Caleb wasn’t sure why a show with a character like himself would be entertaining, but he turned to Jasper, and there was this heartbreaking kind of hope in his eyes. Like he’d asked this same question to dozens of people, and they always said no. He was expecting negative, but still, he asked.

“Sure,” Caleb agreed.

Without asking if Jasper even wanted any, he made hot chocolate for both of them and thrust a mug into the man’s hands as they headed for the couch. What was the point of having company if he couldn’t feed them his favorite things?

He went over to snatch the heavy blanket off his bed and laid it across both of them on the couch as he sat down next to Jasper.

“I’m trusting you not to play some show about a lawyer and tell me how I’m just like him,” he grumbled, and Jasper giggled and shook his head. The sweet smile looked good on him, so Caleb gave him an affected scowl and muttered, “Or a mob boss.”

That earned him an outright laugh. When Jasper finished, he shook his head. “Can’t think of a single one of either you remind me of, promise.” He took one hand away from his two-handed grip on the hot chocolate—like he couldn’t keep his hands warm, Caleb thought with a frown—and took up the remote to scroll through, finally selecting something and hitting play.

Caleb supposed the show wasn’t too bad. For television. Lots of swordplay and swearing. And the lead character might have been a little... taciturn. It wouldn’t have been the first time Caleb was compared to someone grumpy, but it was hard to deny. Also, at least this guy was good looking. He seemed to want to see the best in people, even when they let him down. Jasper was giving Caleb an awful lot of credit.

When Jasper set the remote on Caleb’s lap and leaned into him, head on his shoulder, it seemed even less awful. Weird, how that kind of closeness seemed so natural to the guy.

A few episodes into the show, Jasper dozed off. Caleb pulled the empty mug from his hands and set it on the table at the end of the couch, but he didn’t rouse him or push him off. It was comfortable.

He also didn’t turn the television off. The show wasn’t too bad, really.