Page 36 of The Way Home

“Yep. And I convinced you to bring Caleb home the weekend we were home to celebrate my twenty-fourth birthday. So, yeah, you brought him and told everyone he was your partner. Mum was thrilled. She has the biggest crush on him.”

“What?” Jamie’s eyes snapped to the door. “She does? On Caleb?”

“Well, duh, have you seen him? He’s hot.”

Jamie’s face heated. “Right.”

“Also, he brought her incense and some crystals from the shop she likes in London,” Pippa said, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “Won her over immediately.”

Jamie snorted. That would definitely be the way to win over Maggie Collins.

He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Coming out had been the most terrifying idea to Jamie forsolong. Even when Ellie broke up with him and, very gently, insinuated that he might want to start dating men… he thought his life would end.

So… that wasonegood thing that came from this accident, right? The hard part was over. He was out, his family accepted him, and now… well, he had a lot of other shit to figure out.

His stomach gave a disgruntled gurgle.

“Pip,” he said softly. “Do you think Mum has any of that jam tart left?”

Pippa giggled. “No, I ate the last piece. But I know something evenbetterthat will cheer you up.”

“What’s that?”

“Your hot fiancé is on his way here.”

“What?”Jamie shot straight up, heart pounding. “Why?”

Pippa shrugged. “Because I invited him.”

The way Jamielooked at Caleb was torture.

It wouldn’t have been a few years ago. He remembered it being exhilarating, the way Jamie’s seafoam green eyes curiously dragged down Caleb’s body. Or the way he would get adorably flustered when Caleb caught him staring at his arms.

Back then, it was adorable—Jamie wasstilladorable—but now, after all they’d been through, seeing him look at Caleb like a stranger was fucking torture.

“Y’alright, Caleb?” Pippa asked as she took the six-pack of non-alcoholic beer from his hands and pulled him down into a hug.

“Yeah,” he said, though nothing about him was remotely alright. But that was just how British people greeted each other.

As she wrapped her arms around him, he felt Jamie’s gaze burning into the back of his neck. It took everything in him not to turn around and blurt,“It’s me! Just last week, we made a Pinterest board for our wedding. Remember?”

Pippa must’ve sensed his misery, because she pulled him in tighter and whispered, “Oh, love,” pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

He’d always liked Jamie’s sister. She was kind and funny, and he could only hope she still thought of him as family, even if Jamie didn’t anymore.

When she pulled away, Caleb steeled himself for what came next. He turned to Jamie, lifting his chin in an attempt to appear more calm and collected than he was.

Jamie wore jeans and a purple sweater—the same one he had kicked himself all January for leaving home in Bucks—and raked a nervous hand through his curls.

“Hey,” Jamie said weakly.

“Hi Jamie,” Caleb replied as evenly as he could, though his fingers tightened around the brown box he held. It was stupid, standing in the middle of a kitchen he had been in a million times, trying not to fall apart.

“Here.” He thrust the box forward into Jamie’s hands, then whipped the bag off his shoulder and held it out. Jamie took it slowly, eyes flicking between Caleb and the bag, then down at the jumbled contents inside.

“Just… uh, a few things for you,” Caleb mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

Jesus, this was unbearable. All he wanted was to pull Jamie into his arms, kiss his cheeks, and reassure himself that he really was okay. Breathe in his familiar smells, squeeze his body tight so that his brain could actually start to believe he wasalive.