I tell myself that, and yet look at what I’m doing—holding on to him with all ten fingers, not letting him go like I should.
But I can’t make myself. So I do what I always do. I ignore the looming familial responsibilities I have and head to class, texting Mal to spend time with Caleb when I’m not there. To make sure he stays out of trouble.
Not that Mal is the best choice. I feel like he’s just as dangerous as the rest of them.
So, when Magnus offers to help a few days in as well, I jump on the offer.
He’s far more responsible, and it seems he and Caleb get along well.
Only maybe too much. Because when I return from class on the fourth day of his recovery, I see Caleb on the couch, hovering over Magnus, his hand on him, Magnus giggling like a fool in love.
“Oh fuck,” Magnus giggles and writhes underneath Caleb, his cropped shirt riding up as Caleb tickles him.
“Gonna make you pay,” Caleb grunts as Magnus squeals.
It makes something ugly rear up inside of me.
He’smyfake fiancé. Not Magnus’s.
“What is going on here?” I ask, my voice ugly and hoarse.
The two of them freeze.
Caleb swivels his neck around and looks at me. His cheeks flush, and then he’s pushing himself up, looking a little guilty. Or maybe I’m misreading it. Maybe that’s the face of someone who’s feeling a little smug about how I’m reacting. I’m jealous, and he knows it.
Magnus, however, doesn’t look smug at all. Instead, he just looks contrite.
“Sorry, Whit. We…I was provoking him,” Magnus murmurs, righting his midriff shirt. I say nothing, just arch an eyebrow and hold the door open for him.
He flushes and peers up at me, looking ashamed now. My gaze softens, and I force myself to say, “Thank you for helping today, Magnus.”
He nods, quickly grabs his bag, and offers Caleb a knowing smile before disappearing outside.
When the door closes, I fold my arms across my chest and stare at Caleb.
He shifts on his feet and then sighs. “Come on, man. I’m not into him. He was just being a little shit.”
I say nothing. Just wait for more.
“Aw. You jealous, baby?” he asks with a small smile, and I huff in annoyance. “Nothing to be jealous of. I got a thing foryou.”
He steps toward me and pulls me into him, his face nuzzling into my neck.
“Other guys don’t do it for me. I think I’m gay just for you.”
Those words have my body relaxing against him as his teeth nibble on my earlobe. It makes my skin erupt in goosebumps, a warmth growing in my belly. It’s been so long since I’ve touched him, seen him come.
“I’m horny as hell for you, though.”
He arches his hips into mine, and I shudder slightly. He’s horny. So am I. I miss him desperately.
“I want you now.”
“Are you sure you’re better?” I ask. He nods, nipping lightly at the skin on my neck, inhaling me.
“I’m ready. Have been for days, but you’ve made me wait. I want it, and I want itnow.”
I pull away and eye him, trying to gauge if he really is well enough for sex. He just stands there, touching himself as he stares back at me. He looks fine to me.
