Dirty Thoughts - Megan Erickson Page 0,51

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

“SO, 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