Dirty Thoughts

by Megan Erickson

  Cal didn’t miss the nickname, and he also didn’t miss the way the tenseness had begun to leave Asher’s body.

  “I didn’t know what to do,” Asher said quietly. “Mom talked about you guys sometimes. I always wanted to meet you, but she put me off every year. I assumed I wouldn’t be able to see you until I could drive or until I turned eighteen or something.”

  “Christ,” Brent muttered under his breath, turning away to rub his forehead.

  It was a cluster-fuck, Cal knew that, but he’d held them all together before when shit hit the fan. He’d do it again. “I have some steaks, so how about I grill ’em up, and we all sit down and eat together, yeah?”

  Max nodded, his eyes on Asher. Max was a teacher now, so Cal thought he’d be one of the best to know how to deal with a teenager. “Ash is complaining about my video game selection, Max. Maybe you two can talk about what’s popular now.”

  Max led Asher away toward the video games, their heads bent together, talking softly. Asher looked at Cal from over his shoulder, and Cal nodded. Ash smiled and continued to talk with Max.

  Cal took a deep breath and walked into the kitchen, Brent hot on his heels.

  “What the fuck, fuck, fuck?” Brent chanted under his breath. “Dad is going to lose his ever-loving mind.”

  Cal opened the refrigerator and grabbed the package of steaks. He dropped it on the counter and began to unwrap them. “I know.”

  “Like, in the looney bin after a heart-attack-slash-stroke kind of thing.”

  With the steaks on a plate, Cal grated pepper over the top of them. “I know.”

  “Like, lose-the-function-of-one-side-of-his-body kind of stroke.”

  Now that the steaks were seasoned, Cal grabbed a pair of tongs and walked out to his deck.

  Brent, of course, followed. “So he came here? Not a friend’s house?”

  Cal had already preheated the grill, so he opened up the lid and began tossing the steaks on. “They just moved from California. He said he doesn’t know anyone.”

  “How’d he get here?”

  “Bus.”

  “Damn,” Brent said, leaning on the railing with his arms crossed over his chest. “That’s committed.” He furrowed his brow as Cal lowered the lid of the grill, the steaks sizzling inside. “And not safe, man. He’s sixteen?”

  “Yup.”

  “Not safe at all to travel by bus by himself. You wouldn’t even let me ride in Sam’s truck until he’d been driving two years, remember?”

  Sam had been a friend of Brent’s in high school. “Yeah, I remember. Damn kid was a maniac. And I was right too. He totaled that truck after six months and broke his arm.”

  Brent chewed his lip. “Yeah, you were right.”

  “And I know it wasn’t safe for him to the ride the bus alone, but can’t do anything about it now. He’s here, and I’ll make sure he’s okay.”

  Cal made to walk past Brent, but his brother shot out his arm and grabbed his bicep. “Hey.”

  Cal kept his eyes on the window of the back door, looking at Max and Asher sitting on the couch together inside.

  “If anyone can take care of that kid, it’s you,” Brent said quietly. There was no joke behind his words. No smirk. “You dragged Max and me out of the muck, and you can do it with Asher.”

  Cal closed his eyes and let Brent’s words sink in. He didn’t want them to. But his tone slipped in all his cracks and plunged right into Cal’s heart.

  “I know that Max and I don’t tell you enough that we appreciate what you did. But we do. And Asher is going to appreciate it too.”

  Cal didn’t want that to make his heart beat faster, to make his skin warm. He wanted to resent Brent and Max. And then Asher, for putting him through this again. But he couldn’t resent them. Because he’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. Seeing Max happy and hearing Brent’s awful singing and bad jokes always reminded him that every sacrifice was worth it.

  He’d been so focused on how people took from him that he hadn’t realized all they’d given to him.

  He didn’t trust himself to speak, so he nodded. And Brent’s hand dropped away.

  Cal walked into the house. His head was spinning, his stomach rolling. He walked toward the door to his garage to be alone to smoke a cigarette, but Max’s voice brought him to stop.

  “Cal, I was just telling Asher about the Halloween that Brent and I dressed up as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Remember that?”

  Cal swallowed thickly and nodded as he heard Brent walk in from outside behind him.

  “Oh, shit,” Brent said. “I’d forgotten about that.” He turned to Asher. “Max and I were into them. Dad gave us some money for costumes, but it was too late to find one. So Cal made them.”

  Asher’s eyes went round. “You made them?”

  They weren’t a masterpiece or anything. He’d been twelve and had to buy that iron-on fabric in different colors and sewed what he could a little crudely. Army-green sweat suits did the trick. When he was done, he had three costumes. He shrugged. “They looked pretty homemade.”

  Max waved his hand. “Whatever. So Cal ended up getting sick, like the flu or something. And Brent and I felt bad, so at every house, we got extra candy and picked out the ones that Cal would like. He’s got a thing for sweet-and-sour stuff.”

  Cal did remember that, now that Max brought it up. As soon as he was better, he’d had a whole pillowcase full of treats that they’d gathered for him.

  Asher blinked. “Man, I always wanted brothers. Growing up as the only kid sucks.”

  Brent shrugged. “Sometimes we pissed each other off a whole hell of a lot. When it got ugly, it got real ugly. But when it was good, it made up for all of that.”

  Cal couldn’t breathe. The tightness in his chest, the pounding of his heart. Was he having a fucking heart attack? Maybe he needed to lay off the takeout. And the smokes. He excused himself and made his way to the bathroom on stiff legs.

  In the bathroom, he sat heavily on the toilet and put his head between his legs, clasping his hands on the back of his neck.

  Deep breath.

  In. And out.

  One simple conversation with his brothers, and his whole world tilted.

  All this time, he’d been like some fucking accountant, making checkmarks in columns—I did this for Brent. What did he do for me?

  Jenna had tried to tell him all of this, hadn’t she? That relationships could be balanced. It wasn’t like he’d had any good examples. His parents’ marriage had always been fucked up. So everything he knew, he’d learned . . . well, he’d learned from Jenna. She’d been the first person outside of family to love him.

  He pulled his head up and dropped his hands onto his thighs. The sounds of brothers talking in the living room filtered through the closed door. Max’s deep voice and Brent’s loud tone and Asher’s laughter. It sounded good to have his house full, to be surrounded by family.

  It was romantic to say that love was enough, that love was giving without expecting anything in return. But in real life, with the stress of a job and money and putting food on the table, a little give-and-take was needed for the long haul.

  He had to get himself under control. He tried to find the Cal he’d relied on for the past ten years, the one who didn’t let his emotions guide his actions. But that was out of focus now, surrounded by . . . feelings. Fucking feelings. A pull toward Jenna and a protectiveness over Asher.

  If he had any sense, he’d put Asher on a bus back to his parents. He could call Jill and smack some sense in to her. But what if that didn’t work, and Asher was still unsafe? Cal couldn’t live with that.

  He blew out a breath. He’d stock up on nicotine patches and beer, and he’d get through this, taking care of his younger brother. And he’d do his damnedest to avoid Jenna until she stayed back in that little box he’d placed all the MacMillans in long ago. She had to stay there, because if not, he might just go insane.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “S
O, CAL’S GIRLFRIEND is nice,” Asher said, cutting into his steak.

  Cal groaned as utensils clattered on a plate, and Brent’s head shot up, those slate eyes burrowing into Cal. “Girlfriend?”

  Asher looked confused. “Yeah, Jenna—”

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” Cal cut him off. What she actually was, he didn’t know. But girlfriend? Definitely not. She was something else. Another category that he was trying to forget about.

  Asher frowned. “I know she said she was just a friend, but you both throw off more-than-friend vibes. And then you guys kinda argued over the brownie mix in a weird way.”

  Cal glared at him. “You are this close to being put back on a bus to Virginia.”

  Asher winced and then lowered his eyes to his plate.

  Cal softened his words by nudging the kid with his foot and shooting him a grin, which Asher returned.

  “Whoa.” Brent’s hands were waving in the air. He was a dog with a bone now. “Jenna was here? Yesterday?”

  Cal drained his beer. It had been halfway full.

  “I like Jenna,” Max said conversationally.

  “Spit it out, Cal,” Brent said.

  “Can we not discuss this in front of the kid?”

  “Hey, I’m sixteen! I don’t like girls anyway.”

  Max’s fork fell on the floor. “What?”

  Asher’s face paled somewhat, but he turned to his brother. “I’m . . . gay.”

  The table was silent for a minute. Cal raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t seen that one coming.

  Brent pointed his finger at Asher. “Nice diversion with the gay news, but I’m way more interested in why Jenna was here.”

  Cal was done with this. “We spent the night together. She was here when Asher showed up, and that’s the end of the discussion.”

  Asher picked at his napkin. “She was really nice to me. Got my room all set up, and then we ran into her at the grocery store. She made sure we got food that was healthy and easy to make because Cal isn’t so good at that.”

  She’d also talked to Asher respectfully, like he was an adult. The kid was clearly craving some sort of parental unit, because he’d walked around the grocery store gazing adoringly at Jenna as she laughed with him and touched his forearm affectionately.

  Brent was still looking at Cal through narrow eyes. “Yeah, she’s pretty damn amazing, isn’t she, Cal?”

  “Brent—”

  “You can’t threaten to put me on a bus, so shut up.”

  “Look, it was one night, and that was it. Done.”

  Asher’s head shot up, his face pale. “What?”

  Cal frowned. “Look, kid, I don’t have time to get into it, but Jenna and I have . . . history. A lot of it. But that’s all it is. History. Past. Not present.” Not future either. Maybe if he told himself that enough times, he’d actually believe it.

  Asher looked heartbroken. “B-but I like her. I was hoping we could do something to thank her for today.”

  Well, shit. “Uh—”

  Brent placed his chin in his hand. “I saw a box of brownies in your cabinet. Are they for something? Because if not, you should make those. And then take them over there and thank her in person. Women love that shit.”

  Those fucking brownies. Cal kicked Brent’s shin, and his brother didn’t even flinch but instead grinned at him.

  Asher nodded eagerly. “Yeah, let’s make her those brownies! Girls like brownies, right?”

  “Of course,” said Brent, still grinning.

  “Everyone likes brownies,” Max added.

  Cal worked on breathing deeply so he didn’t explode. Because this avoiding-Jenna plan? Well, he’d had it for about a half hour before it reached its first roadblock.

  Fucking feelings.

  “So what are you gonna do while you’re here, Asher?” Brent asked. “You want to help out at the shop?”

  Asher perked up, like a puppy. “Wait, could I? For real?”

  “I’m not sure if cars are really your thing, but—”

  “Do you work on bikes too?” he asked.

  Cal wanted this entire dinner to end, because none of these conversations were happy places for him. “Not right now, kid, but I’d like to.”

  Asher’s face fell a little. “Oh, I wasn’t sure because I saw your bike, so I thought . . . ” He shook himself and focused on Cal. “Would you give me a ride on it?”

  Cal frowned. The kid would need a better helmet, and the thought of putting him on the back of the bike made Cal anxious. “How’s this: you help out at the shop for a little bit, couple of weeks, and then I’ll see about getting you a ride on the bike.”

  Asher made a fist pump. “Yessss.”

  “Hey, kid?” Brent said.

  “Yeah?”

  He grinned. “You start tomorrow.”

  JENNA SIPPED HER wine and tried to focus on the text of her e-reader. It was a good part too. The hero was groveling. And he needed to grovel after the shit he pulled. The heroine was making him work for it and normally, this was the part Jenna loved.

  But it was hard to concentrate when her mind kept drifting to Cal. She wanted to forget about him, toss the thought of him out with her trash, but that wasn’t possible. It was worse now, since he’d shown a little bit of the Cal she once knew. This Cal was harder, more cynical, and a hell of a lot more stubborn.

  But he’d made it clear that he wanted to be alone. He didn’t want a relationship, not with her, not with anyone.

  And she had dignity. She’d been this close to begging, but she’d been saved by the doorbell, thank God. She wasn’t going to chase Cal and try to convince him that she was worth it. It wasn’t a matter of his not being able to see a future with her; it was that he didn’t want to, she thought. And if he didn’t want to, there was no changing that.

  He was happy on his little island all by himself.

  And so there’d he stay.

  Which made her as miserable as it made him.

  There was a knock at the door, and Jenna checked the clock. It was almost nine at night. She stood up, straightening her cotton shorts and tank top.

  She glanced through the peephole of her front door and blinked. But nope, her vision was correct. Cal and Asher stood on her front porch, the light by her door illuminating their faces in the dark. Cal was staring right at the peephole, just like he’d done Friday night.

  Asher held a foil-covered dish.

  She wished she could read body posture better, but the peephole didn’t allow for that. So she took a deep breath and opened the door.

  Immediately, she smelled brownies.

  Those damn brownies.

  Asher held the dish higher, beaming ear-to-ear. “Hi, Jenna. I wanted to say thank you for today, so I made you brownies.”

  She smiled at him. “That’s so sweet of you. Good thing you had those brownies on hand, huh?” She winked at Asher, who laughed. Cal said nothing, his face frustratingly blank.

  She stepped back. “Well, why don’t you come inside. I bet you’d like some too, right?”

  Asher’s cheeks reddened. “Yeah, sure, if that’s okay with you.”

  She ushered him to walk past her, and she pointed down her hallway. “Go right ahead through to the kitchen.”

  Asher trotted off, and she turned to Cal, who hadn’t moved. She leaned against the door. “You want some brownies too?”

  He stepped inside, brushing his boots on the mat inside her door. Another step and he was in front of her, the door shut behind him.

  It’d been less than twenty-four hours since they’d woken up in the same bed, since he’d been inside of her. Her mind wanted to forget, but her body sure as hell didn’t. Despite all the things they’d said to each other today, all the times he’d said he didn’t want a future with her, she couldn’t seem to slip her libido the memo.

  He hadn’t shaved today, and a hint of gray was mixed in the scruff on his jaw. Those piercing eyes were on her, studying her. “Hey,” he finally said, his deep
voice soft.

  “Hi,” she answered.

  Cal wore jeans and a T-shirt, his uniform, but hell, no one wore it better than him. His gaze shifted down the hall and then back to her. “Asher, uh, he likes you a lot.”

  “I like him too.”

  Cal ran his tongue over his teeth. “I realize that staying away from each other would be ideal, but, uh, I don’t know how that will fly with the kid. He’s got a shitty mom and you’re . . . well, you’re just about the opposite of shitty.”

  “Such a flowery compliment.”

  Cal’s lips tilted into a smile, and he scratched his head, a blush staining his cheeks. “Yeah, you know me. Poet.”

  “So you trying to tell me that you’ll suffer through my presence to keep Asher happy?” She smiled, to take the sting out of the words.

  “Should I pour some milk for us?” Asher called from the kitchen.

  “Yep. Be there in a minute!” Cal yelled back.

  “Cal—”

  He stepped closer, right into her space. His chest brushed hers, the heat from his body seeping in to her skin. She sucked in a breath as those intense eyes locked on hers. “It’s not easy to be around you. I’ll be honest about that. Because you remind me of all the things I used to want. So yeah, it’s hard to look at you and not see everything I failed at. But that’s on me. That’s not your fault. I’m not sorry this weekend happened, but I am sorry if I hurt you. Believe me, that’s the last thing I want to do.”

  Each sentence, each word, each syllable was a wave crashing against her. She struggled to breathe as the meaning behind what he was saying soaked her to the bone.

  He wasn’t done. “And now, I got that kid out there who needs me, so that’s what I’m focusing on. You’re a part of what makes him happy, so I’m hoping you can stand being around me because of what it means to him.”

  That was a lot of words for Cal. A lot of words and a lot of honesty. Really, did she expect any less? Cal wanted to pretend he had a hardened heart, but she didn’t believe that. Not one bit. Cal was tapped out? No more energy for someone else? That was all bullshit. The kid in the kitchen who’d stolen their hearts in one day proved otherwise.

  She knew this was dangerous to slip into this surrogate parenting role for Asher. But how could she say no? “I’ll do anything to help Asher. And you.”