Page 14 of The Way Home

The feeling was strangely familiar, like the urge to smoke a cigarette after he’d quit.

Except it was a softer feeling than that.

Thinking about Jamie’s chocolate curls and those bright green eyes, hidden behind his glasses. The heat in his eyes and the uncertainty in his touch as he reached for Caleb…

He desperately wanted to take care of Jamie. Make him tea, or soup, wrap him up in a blanket. And,Jesus,he wanted to learn more ways to make him squirm and moan like that—

“Jesus.” Caleb palmed his face for a moment, then gave the space one last once-over, grabbed his bag, and headed for the metro station.

The Tube,he corrected internally.

As he stepped onto the platform, his phone buzzed. Like an idiot teenager, he fumbled for it, a flicker of excitement sparking in his chest at the thought that Jamie had finally replied…

Tay

Did British man agree to a date?

Caleb sighed. In a moment of weakness and, admittedly, a bit of desperation, he’d told his sister about last night, and now she was texting him every hour asking for updates. He typed back:

Nope. I think I’m getting ghosted.

Tay

Oh please. It hasn’t even been a day. Give it a few more hours.

Caleb rolled his eyes and shoved his phone back into his pocket, pulling out his headphones and popping them into his ears.

Jamie could runthis exhibit ten times better than Clarence.

But alas, here he was, helping the old wanker set up a large poster board in front of the replica of the Lindisfarne Gospels that read:The most spectacular surviving manuscript from Anglo-Saxon England.

Obvious and cheesy.

All he wanted was the chance to show his boss what he could do with one of these exhibits. He was patiently waiting for his chance to design one of his own, and yet he was still stuck working under Clarence.

“A touch to the left, lad,” Clarence instructed, leaning back and narrowing his eyes at the board. Jamie nudged it a fraction, even though it was perfectly straight already.

“Perfect, don’t move another nanometre! Very good. Very,verygood.” Clarence held up one finger and pranced off toward his office, muttering to himself as he went.

Work had been unusually chaotic today—with that kid cutting his hand open, Jamie nearly passing out at the sight of blood, and now Clarence being… well, Clarence.

He was far too tired for it.

Most of his grumpiness, though, came from the fact that he hadn’t slept at all. He’d been up most of the night, tucked into the warmth of Caleb’s arms, wondering what the actual bloody hell was going on. Then, this morning, he’d slipped from bed and biked back to Islington, only to turn around and rush to work.

It wasn’t that he’d been uncomfortable. The bed had been ridiculously soft, and Caleb had been very accommodating, but… he felt confused.

He couldn’t tell if Caleb had rejected him by refusing his blowjob, or if he’d simply been too nice to kick him out.

Or if he reallydidwant to take Jamie on a proper date.

The thought made that small kernel of hope flicker to life in his chest, and he immediately tried to stamp it out. Bit late for that, really, considering his hopes were already somewhere near the ceiling. Which was how he’d ended up recounting the entire night to his extremely nosy, deeply gossipy French coworker—

Jamie decided the poster board needed his attention. Yes, thatwas the perfect distraction from the constant spiral of thoughts rolling around in his brain.

“Jamie, mon Dieu. What are you doing?” Speaking of his nosey coworker.

“My job?”