Dirty Thoughts - Megan Erickson Page 0,79

to call Asher’s phone if she wanted to get in touch. Because he didn’t want to hear the disappointment in Jenna’s voice that would mirror that look on her face—the same one she’d give him a decade ago.

So he was done. He didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to see it. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking, reaching for this elusive dream of Jenna and a family.

Because right now, while Asher slept, his face pinched in pain, Cal couldn’t remember why it was worth it. Not now, while Jenna’s disappointed expression ghosted in front of his eyes everywhere he turned. Not now, when his vision was blinking between Asher and Max, injured.

Maybe he wasn’t strong enough. Maybe he’d reached the limit now. The reserve was gone. He was dry.

He was that eighteen-year-old kid again, wishing for things that would never happen. Fuck this shit. He was done. Life wasn’t complicated back when he lived alone and kept everyone away with a scowl. He wanted that back.

He needed a shower. He needed a drink. He needed anything to get rid of these bugs crawling under his skin.

And he really wanted to burn these clothes.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and Cal looked up, expecting a doctor or nurse, but instead it was Brent. Cal frowned. “How’d you get here?”

Brent held two cups of coffee and two muffins. He handed one of each to Cal. “I drove.” He sank down on the bench beside Cal and took a sip of his coffee.

“I mean how’d you find out about Asher?”

“Gabe called me. Said he thought you looked homicidal.”

“I’m not homicidal.”

“Well, he said you needed me, so here I am.” You needed me. Cal filed those words away to deal with later. “Doctors say he’ll be okay?” Brent asked.

“He’ll be okay.” Cal rotated the cup of coffee in his hands and watched the tendrils of steam lick the air. He told himself to keep his mouth shut, but Brent’s quiet presence beside him loosened his tongue. “I feel like I failed him.”

“Who? Asher?”

“I told him he’d be safe here and—”

“Don’t be stupid.”

Cal glared.

“No, seriously. You’re pulling that martyr shit again, and I’m not listening to it. It was an accident, Cal. Both Gabe and Asher knew better than to ride that shitty motorcycle around their house.”

“I should have remembered to fix Gabe’s bike. I shouldn’t have put Asher off and taken him for a ride already. I told him I’d take him tomorrow, and so I know he was excited—”

“Right. Asher was excited. And he’s a teenager and made a shitty decision. Gabe’s just an idiot all the time.”

Cal snorted.

Brent leaned down so he caught Cal’s eyes. “Don’t do this. You’ve done so much for that kid.”

“I’m worried he’ll blame me.” Would he even want to stay here after this?

“He’s not going to blame you.”

Cal fell silent. He stood up and peeked through the window of Asher’s door to see large round eyes in a pale face staring at him.

“He’s awake.” Cal pushed the door open, with Brent following at his heels. Cal went right to the bed, peering down at Asher’s dark hair flopped on the white sheet. “How ya feeling?”

Asher’s stared at him for a minute, and then his lower lip trembled. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, no need to cry.”

Small sob sounds spilled from Asher’s chapped lips. “I’m so sorry, Cal!”

“Whoa, whoa!” Cal pressed on Asher’s shoulders, stilling him, because the kid was squirming and probably making his head and arm ache more. “It’s okay. Don’t get yourself worked up.”

“I shouldn’t have gotten on the back of Gabe’s bike, but he said he wouldn’t tell anyone and that he wouldn’t go fast. And then the bike jerked, and I wasn’t holding on tight enough, and—”

“Kid, take a fucking breath,” Brent said in exasperation from the other side of the bed.

Asher stopped talking, but his eyes were wet, with small tears trickling from the corners.

Cal sank down into a chair beside the bed. Asher’s eyes followed his every movement. Cal gripped Asher’s good arm. “Take it easy. I’m disappointed you got on that bike, yeah. And I’m going to fucking kill Gabe. But you know it wasn’t the right thing to do. So I’m not going to nail ya for it. Lying in a hospital bed is punishment enough, yeah?”

Asher nodded, and color returned to his face. “Yeah.” He turned his head to Brent and then back to Cal. He licked his lips and tried for a small smile. “Thanks for being