Page 121 of Should the Sky Fall

As for Cal’s memory, the test results didn’t show any changes. That wasn’t surprising, given that nothing so far has triggered a single memory, but Dawson was still worried about how Cal would react to the official news. Cal took it in stride, though, and when Dawson asked about it, he replied that he doesn’t care about his lost memories because he’s already made new ones with Dawson.

Cal can be damn smooth, Dawson will give him that.

He can also be restless as hell.

Similarly to yesterday and the day before that, Dawson wakes up to cold, rumpled sheets and an empty apartment. When Cal doesn’t come down in the next twenty minutes, he goes to look for him. He wouldn’t bother him normally, but they have the shelter today and if they don’t want to leave without having breakfast first, Cal will have to drag his ass back.

There’s no one else in the pool apart from Cal. That’s not surprising, since those people who actually go for a morning swim do so in the pool on one of the lower levels, not the rooftop where there’s no protection against the sun. Not that Cal cares about that.

“Still haven’t had enough?” Dawson calls out when Cal finishes a lap.

Cal turns towards him, rubbing water from his eyes. He smiles when he sees Dawson.

“It just feels so good to be able to do something.”

“I know.” Dawson would go crazy without his running. It helps him clear his mind. “You might want to wrap it up, though, or we’ll be late.”

“Oh, sorry.” He swims towards the steps. “I’m coming out.”

Dawson’s throat goes dry when Cal climbs out, water streaming down his body in rivulets. He runs his fingers through his hair, squeezing the water out. Dawson must be staring like a moron, but Cal just smiles and says, “Can you hand me the towel, please?”

Dawson nods, then takes at least five full seconds before he actually makes a move to get it.

“Thank you,” Cal says when he takes the towel from him and starts running it over his chest.

Dawson averts his eyes. What’s wrong with him? He’s seen Cal shirtless before. Only about a million times.

“I’m making scrambled eggs. That good with you?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I’ll see you downstairs.”

Dawson doesnotrun, he just adds a little spring to his step to get everything ready before Cal comes down. And they really need to hurry if they want to make it to the shelter on time.

He’s already transferring the eggs from the pan to the plates when he hears the front door open.

“Right on time!” he calls.

“Smells good,” Cal says, walking into the kitchen.

Dawson rolls his eyes. “It’s eggs. And toast.”

“Well, it smells good.”

Dawson doesn’t even have the strength to argue, too busy hiding a smile. Cal liking his food has turned him into a good little housewife. It’d worry him if he didn’t actually enjoy it.

They polish off their breakfast quickly, with plenty of time to spare.

Now that he’s better, Cal’s started to take on more tasks at the shelter. On Monday, he even cleaned and dried the kennels, but Dawson is still apprehensive about letting him carry heavier stuff. He likes working with Cal, though. Not that they always work together, but it’s nice seeing him around, making friends with the dogs and other volunteers. The dogs have finally started warming up to him, with a few exceptions. Lola hates everybody, so that’s no surprise, but Donut seems to have some personal vendetta against Cal. Dawson attributes it to being jealous, because he’s so fond of Dawson and doesn’t like sharing him.

Aubrey greets them the second they walk in, but there’s something about her today that sets off Dawson’s alarm bells.

“Hey, Aubrey.”

“Hi, boys.” She smiles at them tersely. “Could I talk to you a sec?”

The alarm bells ring louder. Something’s definitely going on.