Page 13

13

Caleb

N ick’s not in our room when I get back from my shift at Stella’s.

Odd. The guy usually stays in unless it’s a weekend, which he spends mostly with Rhys.

Maybe he’s sleeping somewhere else tonight so that I don’t have the chance to turn his phone off. Honestly, though, he could’ve just fucking put it under his pillow or something. He leaves it on his desk all the time, which is why it was begging for me to mess with it.

When midnight hits, I maybe get worried. I think of sending him a text asking him where he’s at, but then—we’re not friends. I made sure of that. So I switch the lights off and lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling.

I really fucked up, didn’t I?

I’m not sure how long I spend just lying here, and when I hear the door creak open, I turn towards the wall and pretend to be asleep. The darkness probably disorients Nick because I hear him stumble against something and hiss under his breath. Then everything goes quiet.

I don’t even hear him head to the shower or dive into his bed.

Huh?

I turn to look at him and—

My heart drops to my stomach because the motherfucker’s standing right beside my bed, looming over me like a goddamn creeper.

“Nick, what the hell!?” I yell, sitting up with a hand to my chest. My heart’s beating so fast, I think it’ll stop functioning altogether. “What are you doing!?”

“I’m not homophobic,” he says, and is—is he slurring?

“Are you drunk? On a Thursday night? What the hell’s going on?”

“Caleb, I’m not homophobic.”

“Yeah, yeah! I heard it the first time. Can you please go back to your side of the room?”

He doesn’t go back to his side. In fact, he takes it as an invitation to sit on the edge of my bed, and I stare at him in bafflement.

I can barely make out his face, but I can smell the alcohol on him.

“Nick,” I say carefully. “You’ve got classes in the morning.”

“You’re just going to make me late again, anyway.”

Good point.

“Are you all right?” I ask, voice softer than I intend it to be.

“I was jealous,” he murmurs.

My chest cracks open, and I don’t know what to say to that. This entire thing is disorienting. “Um. What?”

“I wanted to hang out with you.” He moves his hand against my sheets, as if searching for something, and it lands on my thigh. The tips of his fingers slip under the opening of my shorts. I jolt at the contact, but don’t push away. You know… in case a sudden movement makes him decide to kill me or something.

What the fuck is going on right now?

Nick says, “You kept pushing me away, and I thought we were finally getting somewhere. You’re okay with Schultz and the other guys on the team, even with my ex, but then… you hate me. And I let it go. But then we hung out, and I liked it. A lot.”

Nick struggles to get his words out and with the hand that’s not on my leg, he clutches at his hair and lets out an exhale.

“Nick,” I croak. “Go to bed.”

He shakes his head. “I saw you with someone else in here, then you’re talking about hooking up with him in our room, and it made me feel… jealous. I don’t know the right word.”

“Listen—”

“It threw me in a loop. Maybe the right word’s envy. Is that it? And I know it’s lame and stupid because we’re practically strangers, and you call me a fake-ass golden boy—”

“Hey.” I grab his arm. “Stop.”

“I really wanted to spend time with you. Then I said the wrong thing and things spiraled, and I pissed you off, and then I didn’t know how to fix it.”

Wow. He’s slurring, but he’s still eloquent, despite smelling like a distillery. Is there anything the golden boy can’t do?

“To be fair,” I say, “I didn’t give you a chance to explain yourself.”

“I’m sorry.”

I clear my throat. After a moment of hesitation, I say, “Sorry for the pranks. And for messing with you in practice.”

He smiles, all soft and eager and real, and I don’t know what to do—especially when he rubs his thumb against my leg. Nick looks at me in a way that nobody else has, as if he’d want to get closer to me despite me constantly giving him reasons not to. And he said exactly that, in his drunken stupor.

Slowly, he leans towards me and buries his face in my neck. The scent of tequila and his shampoo invades my senses, and I forget how to act. We’ve never been this close before. Not ever. My throat’s tight and my hands shake against my sheet. God, I feel dazed. It takes everything in me not to tilt my head and press my lips against his hair.

Nick’s quiet against me, and if it weren’t for his soft breaths on my neck, I’d think he fell asleep.

“Nick, go to bed,” I murmur.

He huffs a laugh. “I like it more when you call me Nicky.”

God, just how drunk is he? He needs to stop being so up in my space like this, needs to take his hand off my leg, because my dick’s taking all kinds of interest in whatever the hell is happening right now.

I pry his hand off my thigh—especially since it’s getting dangerously close to my crotch, and he only takes that as an invitation to place it flat on my chest instead. He shifts a bit, clutching at my shirt, and his fingers catch on my nipple piercing. I choke out in surprise and heat rushes through me and settles in my gut.

“Caleb,” he murmurs, cupping my neck and pushing our foreheads together. His breath’s warm against my mouth and I can’t move. My brain has stopped functioning. “Is it weird that I think about kissing you?”

I suck in a breath and my thoughts devolve into static. This is ridiculous. He’s drunk and not thinking right, and I need to be the better person.

Hoarsely, I say, “Hey, stop, you need to—”

The grip he has on my nape tightens and my mind stutters when Nick presses his lips against mine, hard. His lips are soft and wet, and he tastes like the tequila he’s probably been inhaling all night, and my world comes to a complete halt.

It takes too long for my brain to catch up.

He slides his warm mouth against mine, poking his tongue out and licking it against my lower lip. I almost part my lips and give him more, because I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something this much.

Fuck. No.

A hand flat on his chest, I push him away. “Stop it, Nick.”

My eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and I see the horror on his face. He rasps, “Shit. I’m sorry.”

My hearts beating so fast my ribcage aches. “It’s fine. Forget it. You need to go to your own bed now, though.”

“Caleb… I’m so sorry.”

“We can talk about it in the morning if you want to, but not right now.”

He blinks at me slowly and his lower lip wobbles. He nods, and his expression’s killing me. He’s mortified, and I don’t know what to do about it. After a long silence, he finally gets up.

Nick stumbles under his own weight and almost falls over. I put an arm around his waist and lead him to his bed, and he’s so fucking warm, and my throat constricts once more.

I help him out of his jacket. Then Nick fumbles with his jeans and I blink at him, wondering if I need to help him with that as well—and he stares at me with huge eyes and a pout, and I tell myself I’m truly and completely fucked.

“Sit down,” I say.

Nick mumbles words I don’t understand, and his bed creaks when he falls back against it. He sucks in a breath when I get on my knees to unbutton his jeans for him. I unzip him too, being careful about not touching him anywhere else, and then realize he’s still wearing his shoes.

Gently, I take his shoes off, then help him out of his jeans.

What a sight we make—hours earlier, I was ready to knock him out. Now, I’m on my knees undressing him.

As soon as he’s only in his shirt and his boxer briefs, Nick lets out a pained groan and collapses into his bed.

“I wanna be friends.” He speaks against the pillow, muffling his voice.

Judging by how he kissed me, I’m guessing that’s not all he wants—though I don’t say that. He’s drunk, and I can’t really hold him to his actions right now.

In the room’s dimness, he gives me a lop-sided smile, and I can’t help but stare at how dorky he looks and sounds. It’s… shit, it’s kind of cute.

“Fine,” I say, wondering if he’s even going to remember this in the morning. His eyes flutter closed, and I murmur, “Good night, Nicky.”

As soon as I turn my back on him, a slight smile spreads across my face, and I tell myself it’s only because of how ridiculous this night turned out to be.