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“Was he…” Ravi’s fingers hovered in the air. “Hurt? Did that guy do something to him?”
The truth was, Caleb didn’t know. Bodhi had insisted the guy was just a little too forward, but he worried that Bodhi had just written that off in his head as nothing because he was used to people getting into his space and treating him with less respect than most.
“You need to ask him,” Caleb finally said.
Ravi looked like he was going to be sick. “Is he still here?”
“I’m feeding him toast and tea,” Caleb answered and finally climbed to his feet. His phone started to buzz in his pocket, and he knew it was Peyton. “Your ride’s here. He’s with his husband, who’s a wheelchair user, so he’s not going to come all the way up here. I’ll help you down.”
Ravi looked like he wanted to protest, but eventually he took Caleb’s offered hand and heaved himself to his feet. He stumbled a little, then righted himself. “I’m sorry.”
Caleb blinked at him.
“I fucked up. I’m sorry.”
Caleb realized what Ravi was saying and he shook his head, huffing a soft breath. “I’m not the one who needs the apology.”
“I think I got blood on your sheets.”
Caleb gave him another soft smile and offered his hand as they headed to the door. It was an impossibly slow trek down the stairs and to the curb where Peyton was waiting, and neither of them said much as Ravi was loaded into the back.
“Text you when we have some answers,” Peyton told him.
Caleb nodded. “Thanks for this.”
“Stop thanking me. We’re best friends,” Peyton signed with a laugh. He squeezed Caleb’s shoulder, then got back into the car and Hudson drove off as Caleb stood there a little stunned by Peyton’s easy admission, and weighed down by the fact that Bodhi was waiting for him upstairs.
There was a whole mountain of emotions to untangle now, but for the first time in a long while, Caleb wasn’t afraid.
Chapter12
Bodhi had bad guts.It was a combination of his anxiety, and—according to massive amounts of medical research—part of being on the spectrum. His safety foods weren’t always that safe for him either. He was viciously lactose intolerant but craved heavy cream-based gravy in his Indian food, and he was pretty sure that gluten pissed off his lower intestines too. But there were days where all he’d eat was bagels and crêpes from the little shop next to his dorm, and he couldn’t bring himself to regret that.
Right now, however, the very idea of food made him want to throw up on his shoes, and he was feeling antsy because he was pretty sure Caleb was about to mother him into eating the little plate of toasts.
He was still reeling from the night before. Hungover thanks to being such a damn lightweight, and a little kiss-drunk from the way Caleb had taken his lips so damn soft and so damn careful before holding him as they slept.
He wanted to do that part again—the kissing. He wanted to just lie on the sofa with his arms curled around Caleb, letting the man’s weight pin him perfectly to the cushions. And he wanted to get lost in Caleb’s woodsy smell and sweet taste.
Caleb had been a source of anxiety and pain for him, but he was also the only man who had ever given Bodhi the kind of touches he craved. He had no idea how to explain it except that it was good.
No. It wasbest.
He would have given anything to have lingered in bed with him all morning. Maybe getting extra kisses. Maybe doing a little more than that. Instead, he’d been viciously ripped from his sleep by Ravi’s messy life, and Bodhi still wasn’t sure what the hell actually happened.
He was reeling a little from how bad Ravi had looked, sitting in the hospital parking lot cowering under a tree like he was trying to blend in with the bark. He refused to talk beyond explaining about the fight and their grandparents, and Bodhi had been too tired to try and force the issue, so they just…left.
And now he was back at Caleb’s, waiting for the man to come upstairs, and he had no idea what was supposed to happen next. He was so far out of his depth, he kind of wanted to cry, and he felt himself teetering on the edge of an emotional overload.
He felt the pressure change in the house when Caleb walked inside, and he was coiled with tension as their eyes met and he realized he couldn’t read Caleb’s expression. His stomach twisted.
“Is he angry?”
Caleb blinked at him. “Peyton?”
“Ravi,” Bodhi corrected.
At that, for whatever reason, Caleb looked annoyed. “No. And if he is angry about this, he’d better keep it to himself.”
