Page 134 of Should the Sky Fall

Dawson’s eyes begin to burn, his throat closing up. Cal remembered. Dawson mentioned it during one of their cooking sessions—about his mom making the best French toast when he and Olivia were little. So…Cal just went and made him some.

“Where…where did you get the brioche bread?” He’s sure they didn’t buy it during their last grocery run.

“I woke up early, so I took Donut for a walk and we stopped at a bakery on the way.” He tenses when he sees Dawson’s about to cry. “Dawson? I’m sorry, I didn’t—I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“Come here.”

“What?”

Dawson takes the plate from him and sets it aside on the nightstand. He reaches for Cal’s wrist, giving it a tug. “Come here.”

Confused, Cal listens. He climbs on the bed, and once he’s close enough, Dawson takes him by the neck and pulls him into a needy kiss. Cal’s noise of surprise is muffled against his lips.

Dawson falls back, taking Cal with him. They collapse against the pillows, the kiss breaking. Cal looks down at him, eyes blown wide and pupils expanded. His lips are parted, glistening. Dawson wants to feel them again. He fists the front of Cal’s shirt, pulling him down. Cal goes willingly, accepting Dawson’s kiss with delighted little sounds that send a zing through Dawson.

He wraps his arms around Cal, deepening the kiss. He tastes like sugar and home and all things good, and fuck, Dawson wants more of him. And he would have gotten more, if Donut hadn’t decided to bulldoze his way between them, grunting and licking their faces.

They pull apart, staring at each other for a long moment, then bursting into giggles.

“I believe someone doesn’t like not being the center of your attention,” Cal remarks with humor.

“He’s a little attention whore,” Dawson says, patting Donut’s back and turning his head away when Donut tries to slobber all over his face.

Chuckling, Cal pushes up and moves away. Dawson instantly feels cold.

“Is it okay that I made you French toast?”

“Yeah, Cal. It’s okay. More than.” He leans forward for another kiss. Cal obliges, taking Dawson’s mouth with a gentleness that threatens to completely destroy him. “Now, bring me a fork and a knife, will you? I want to dig in.”

Cal grins, kissing him one more time. “Yes, sir.”

Chapter 22

“That’squiteacommotion,”Cal comments when they arrive at the Paint ‘n’ Sip studio. He’d expected a peaceful, harmonious setting, so he’s a little startled by the noise a group of women can make.

“I did warn you,” Dawson reminds him. “And it will get worse. Look at all that wine.”

“We’re better off. We have kombucha and crackers.”

“That we do.”

“Hey, guys!” A young, blonde woman skips towards them, holding a notepad. “Welcome! Have you been here before?”

Dawson shakes his head. “First time. We have a booking under Dawson Reeves.”

“Lovely.” She ticks their names off and smiles. “I’m Jo. I’ll be guiding you through the painting process today. Take a seat.” She points at two empty seats at the end of the long table. “We’re waiting for a couple more people, but we’ll start soon.”

“That’s a lot of brushes,” Cal says as he peruses the set up. A canvas, a jar of water, a palette with several colors and four—four!—brushes.

“Relax, Cal,” Dawson says with a chuckle. He unzips his backpack and pulls out their drinks and the crackers. “It’s supposed to be fun. And don’t forget it was your idea.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Another two girls arrive in the next few minutes, and when everyone finds their seats, Jo begins the instruction.

They paint a faint line through the middle of the canvas and start mixing the colors for the sky first. That partisquite fun, and Cal’s intrigued by all the color combinations he can create. He runs into a problem when his sky turns out patchy, with areas of white seeping through. He turns to Dawson for advice, but stills when he sees a look on his face.

Dawson’s jaw is tight, and he’s gripping the brush too hard, hovering it over the canvas like he’s never done this before.