26. Travis

TWENTY-SIX

"YOU GOT HIM?" Donovan and Kelly watched warily as Caleb and I bumped into the wall while making our way down the hallway to our condo.

One more shot and we'd all be carrying his ass.

"All good," I said, reaching for the key card in my pocket. "No need for you to risk getting puked on."

"I'm not gonna be sick," Caleb protested, and tried to wriggle out of my hold. "I can walk."

"I'd say I'd love to see you try, but I don't care to drag you down the hall when you bust it."

"Not gonna fall."

"Let's just get you inside," I said, finally getting the door open. As I hauled him in, I said over my shoulder, "Night."

"Try to behave—" Donovan's words were cut off as the door slammed shut behind us.

Caleb rested his head against mine as I led him over to the couch, and now that we were finally alone, I could drop the act that apparently had sent him over the edge.

"Someone's been a very naughty boy tonight," I said.

"Your fault."

"Oh yeah? Care to tell me how?" I went to lower him onto the leather cushion, but he twisted out of my grasp, stumbling into the coffee table before righting himself.

"Eeeverybody wants you. And you want eeeverybody."

Amusement crooked my lips. While I knew he'd wake up regretting all of this tomorrow, tequila had brought the jealousy out of Caleb, and as fucked up as it was, I liked it. It was also cute as hell, because even several sheets to the wind, no one could compare to him in my eyes. He had to know that. Maybe it'd get through to him when he was sober.

For now, I'd play along, because tequila was apparently truth serum.

"Well, you got the first part right. Can you blame them?"

"Yes," he said stubbornly. "I mean, no."

"Which is it?"

"No. They want you. I want you." He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "And I… I don't know what to do about that."

Well, that was honest. It seemed tequila hadn't only made Caleb fun but introspective.

"I guess maybe the first question then should be, what do you want to do about it?"

"Yell?" Caleb suggested. "Scream? This is all so confusing… So…frustrating. All these years I thought you hated me, that I hated you, when really I wanted— Ugh."

He threw his hands up in the air, his frustration getting the best of him as words got jumbled in his inebriated brain.

"I just can't believe that after aaall this time, when I finally say, ‘Hey, yeah, I'm open to seeing what this is and letting you be my first,' you decide to go and flirt with every available cock in sight."

As Caleb's words filled the space between us, I could barely believe what I was hearing. Drunk or not, this was the first time he'd ever mentioned half of the shit tumbling off his tongue, so how the hell was I supposed to know where his mind was at?

He'd told me to play it cool. I did.

He'd told me to keep my hands to myself. I did—when it came to him.

And I was pretty sure he'd told me to make sure none of our friends worked out what was going on between us. Which. I. Did.

Now he was standing here telling me I fucked up tonight? Oh no. I didn't think so.

"Okay, first off," I said, holding up a finger in front of his face that he did his best to focus on, "you are the one who has been hellbent on keeping this a secret. If I had my way, we would've shown up at that club together tonight. Second…"

I shoved two fingers in Caleb's face, and his eyes narrowed.

"You told me to act normal. Normal for me is man-whoring my way through Manhattan. If I'd changed behavior tonight, people would've gotten suspicious."

"East."

"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure the moment you all but threw down over me on the dance floor, his desire for a forbidden romance was fulfilled. Brotherly love and all."

"Stepbrothers. We aren't related."

"Thank God for that," I said, and took his hand, bringing it down to the hard-on his little display tonight had caused. "Because otherwise this would be really fucking inconvenient."

Caleb's fingers automatically squeezed my stiffening length, and his glassy eyes locked on mine. "This is for me?"

"All for you." I thrust my hips forward into his hand. "Always has been."

"Mmm." Caleb licked his lips. "That's hot."

"So are you." So damn hot I'd almost forgotten where I was going with all of this. But when Caleb let go of me to flick open the button of my pants, my brain switched back on and I took hold of his wrist, halting him.

My last point was the most important I was going to make tonight, and I needed to make it now, before things got out of hand.

"You want me to be your first?"

Caleb rolled his eyes and he did his best to act blasé about the whole thing, even as his cheeks turned several shades of red. "Well, like, with a guy. I'm not a total virgin."

"No?" I'd never imagined for a second that he was. Not with the way girls threw themselves at him. But his need to make that point made him even more adorable. "Thank God, because I only deflower partial virgins."

Caleb shoved me in the arm, and I caught his wrist, pulling him in, wrapping my arm around him.

"If I could have danced with you at the club like this tonight, I would have. There'd have been no one else. You know that."

Caleb nodded, but then took a step back, and for a moment I thought he was going to walk away—until his hands went to the bottom of his shirt and he started to unbutton.

Oh shit.

"Now you decide to get naked," I said, trying to keep my tone light and teasing even as my pulse kicked up a few notches. "East will be so disappointed."

"Fuck East."

"Never have, never will." I cocked my head to the side, admiring all the delicious skin he revealed button by button. "But you? I'd love to fuck with you."

An approving smile spread across Caleb's lips as he backed away from me.

"Going somewhere?"

He tripped over the edge of the chair, but quickly caught himself and continued in the direction of…my room.

Either his internal compass was all out of whack, or he was thinking I enjoyed drunk, not-all-in-their-right-mind men in my bedroom. Did I want him there? Fuck yes. Was I going to take advantage when he couldn't even walk in a straight line? Absolutely not.

"Even your room smells good." He groaned. "Why is everything about you so hot? I hate it."

"You don't hate it," I said, stopping by the bed. "You like it too much, and that scares you."

Caleb seemed to think that over and then slowly began to nod. "You've always wanted this. Me?" He shrugged out of his shirt and balled it up in his hands.

In the dark, I could barely see his gorgeous body, and I reached down to flip on the lamp. The low amber light illuminated his broad shoulders and that sexy chest I wanted to run my hands across.

Cursing the tequila for being a damn cockblock, I gripped the back of my neck so I didn't reach out for Caleb and take things further than they needed to go.

"You have no fucking idea."

He threw his shirt at me and spread his hands wide. "Well, tonight you can have him."

"You or Don Julio?"

"Who's Donullio?"

I bit back a laugh, because as comical as drunk Caleb was, he was in my room, stripping out of his clothes, and I wouldn't be able to do a damn thing about it.

My dick was in full riot mode.

"C'mere." He crooked his finger, but I shook my head.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" He fumbled with the buttons of his jeans, and it took him a couple tries to get them open.

"Because you're drunk." And I apparently have morals when it comes to you.

"Am not," he said, trying to kick off his shoe. "I'm still standing, aren't I?"

They were famous last words, because as soon as he managed to get one shoe off, he fell face-first onto my mattress.

A muffled "Oops" followed by "Mmm, smells good" was all I heard as he lay there, not bothering to lift himself up.

That was the problem with my bed—guys fell into it and never wanted to leave. I always thought it had more to do with me, but considering I wasn't lying there with Caleb, it was probably the fact that it felt like a cloud.

"You okay?" I crouched down beside the bed to be at his eye level, though his were currently shut. "Caleb?"

He made a small noise but didn't open his eyes. I brushed his hair off his face and stayed there just looking at him. Soon his breathing became deeper, slower, as he fell into a heavy sleep.

Had this been what it was like all those times he'd had to take me home? When I called him after one too many and he had to put my intoxicated ass to bed? Had he watched me the way I watched him now? He was so beautiful, with those full lips slightly parted and his dark lashes brushing his cheeks.

"Another time," I whispered, leaning in to kiss his forehead and the corner of his mouth. When he didn't stir, I stood up and took off his other shoe, then pulled the folded blanket from the end of the bed over him. It was too tempting to join him, to move in behind him just so I could hold him all night. But I wanted him fully consenting when that happened.

I watched him in silence for a little longer, and then I flipped off the lamp and let him sleep. Alone.