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Not at all.

He lingered with his hand on his phone, willing himself to ignore the urge to open his text messages and read back through his scroll with Ash, starting with the first of the selfies Ash had sent.

The one with the Santa hat.

Then that had been followed by one without the Santa hat.

And then another one without the Santa hat, taken at a slightly different angle to give Cass an even better view . . .

Cass’s throat felt tight, and a rush of heat to his groin reminded him just how much he’d been affected by the selfies. And by the positively flirty text Ash had sent after the selfies. You’d really like it if I shifted the camera lower, wouldn’t you? (Yes, yes, he would indeed have really liked that.) He hadn’t gotten worked up to the point where he’d needed to take care of things himself, but god, he’d wanted to. And he still wanted to now.

He collapsed onto his back again, bringing the phone with him. He had a few minutes before he really needed to be up, didn’t he? His mom would still be sleeping for another half hour or more. Breakfast could be quick today. Pancakes and eggs. Five minutes to make, tops.

He lifted the phone but then hesitated as the hint of guilt he felt at prioritizing his own needs and desires over making his mom a healthier breakfast ballooned into something heavier.

Homemade oatmeal with yogurt and berries was a much better choice. And what he should do for her.

His eyes strayed back to his phone. The time lit up on the screen when he swiped a finger across. 6:04 a.m. Would Ash be up already? Could they—

Growling at his lack of focus and at the direction his thoughts had gone, Cass forced his eyes off the screen, took a deep breath, and dragged himself out of bed. After a quick shower, he got to work in the kitchen, browning the oats and then simmering them in a mixture of water and milk. While they cooked, he cleaned and cut up a variety of berries and fruits they had in the fridge, then set the table. When the oatmeal was done to just the right consistency about twenty minutes later, he set it aside to cool. Then he headed back down the hallway to wake up his mom.

He knocked lightly on the door before entering, as he always did. “Good morning, ma,” he greeted, pushing the door open slowly.

From her bed, his mother smiled at him. “Good morning, Caspian, my sunshine.” Her eyes were tired, as though she’d only woken up a few minutes ago, but her voice sounded strong.

Cass made his way across the room as she tried to push herself up, and she seemed to surprise herself as well as him when she managed to get herself almost to a seated position. He leaned over and set his hand on her back to help her the rest of the way and steady her. Then he gave her a soft kiss on the forehead.

“I made breakfast. Oatmeal just how you like it.”

“That’s so sweet of you, dear,” she said. “It’s been a while since we’ve had oatmeal.”

“Not too long,” Cass corrected gently. “I made oatmeal last week, too.”

“Oh, that’s right. Sorry. My memory isn’t so great in the mornings.”

He moved her wheelchair up to the edge of the bed and then carefully wrapped an arm around her thin body to help her into it. After settling her into her wheelchair, Cass knelt down in front of her with a small smile.

“Do you know what you want to wear today?” he asked. “Maybe that cream blouse?”

“No, no, that one’s itchy. How about . . . the purple one?”

He nodded and squeezed her hand lightly. Then he stood and pushed the wheelchair across to the bathroom. He helped her onto the toilet and then went back into the bedroom to give her privacy and gather the clothes she wanted to wear. It only took him a few seconds to find her purple blouse and pick out a pair of pants he knew was comfortable for her, and then he sat on the edge of the bed and waited until she called him back into the bathroom.

It took time, as every morning did. He helped her dress, waiting patiently as she tried to button up the blouse herself, and then they headed back into the bathroom. Cass brushed her hair and helped her put on the little bit of makeup she still liked to wear—something he’d gotten strangely proficient at in the last year and a half. It was well after seven by the time they finally made it out to the kitchen and settled in to eat.

His mom loved the oatmeal and was sure to tell him that several times. She also asked about Ash and what his plans were for Christmas, and Cass hoped she didn’t hear the disappointment in his voice when he explained that Ash had family friends coming up from Los Angeles to visit.

“They’re supposed to fly in this afternoon, actually,” he said. He forced a smile. “I’m really glad he won’t be alone on Christmas.” It was the truth; he was happy Ash wouldn’t be alone. Only, his heart still ached at the fact that he wasn’t going to be the one there with Ash.

“That’s good, although I’m surprised you didn’t want to go up there yourself,” his mom said, a teasing lilt in her voice.

He frowned and dropped his eyes to the now-empty bowl sitting in front of him, unsure of how much to say. “I did want to go,” he admitted quietly, “but I couldn’t, you know?”

He sort of hoped his mom would let the subject drop, because he didn’t want to get into detail. He and Ash had talked about it a little—about how it was expensive to travel and how it was difficult for both of them to be away from home given their obligations and responsibilities. They hadn’t really come up with a solid long-term plan, but they’d talked enough to agree that a Christmas or winter-break visit probably wasn’t in the cards.

Cass hadn’t gotten up the courage to talk to his parents yet, either about taking the time away when he could or about money. Each trip could easily cost two or three hundred dollars, and he hated the idea of having to ask his parents for the money every time. Not that they’d ever denied him when he had asked, like when he needed new clothes or books for school or other necessities. But this wasn’t strictly a necessity, and he was twenty-four years old; he should be able to pay for things himself.

He knew the expectation was unreasonable—the need for him to stay home and help take care of his mom made getting a job nearly impossible, especially now that he also had school to consider. And both of his parents had been nothing but supportive of that.