Dirty Thoughts - Megan Erickson Page 0,82
need to get some things sorted here, and then I’ll be in touch, all right?”
To take him home. Where he belonged. Which wasn’t with Cal. “Yeah, okay.”
“I’ll call soon.”
Cal hung up the phone. So that was it. This fantasy family was vaporizing in front of his eyes. Wasn’t this what he wanted? To be alone again?
And if so, why did this hurt so much?
ASHER WAS STILL a little pale as Cal helped him into his truck. The kid had been discharged earlier that morning after a night in the hospital. He was now the owner of a bright, lime green cast and a fresh set of stitches on his scalp. They were on the shaved side of his head, which irked Cal because he had to see them.
Asher was smiling, albeit weakly, and said he just wanted to get home and play video games. Apparently the non-high-definition television in the hospital room wasn’t to his liking.
Cal glanced at his phone in the center console of his truck. He’d left it off overnight and hadn’t bothered to turn it on. It all could . . . wait. Yeah, just wait.
Asher turned to him when they were halfway home. “I’m sorry.”
“You already said that. And it’s okay.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think it is. I just . . . you said you’d take me for a ride soon, that I’d earned it, so I didn’t think anything of letting Gabe drive me around for a little . . . ”
“So what exactly happened?”
Asher sighed. “Gabe said his bike had been acting up, so he got some shop to fix it. It’s a couple of towns over, because there’s no one in town that’s certified to fix bikes.”
That stung, because Cal could have fixed it if he’d remembered. Instead, Gabe had gone to someone else, who might not have known what he was doing. Fuck.
“So,” Asher continued, “he said he wanted to test it out.”
“At night?”
Asher bit his lip. “It was just around the house.”
The stupidity of the whole situation was incredible. “Go on.”
“So he was going slow, and I wasn’t holding on really tight. Over the driveway, he gunned it a little, and . . . I don’t know, something happened. It didn’t sound right. And next thing I knew, I was in the air and landing on the ground.” Asher put a knee to the bench and turned to look at Cal. “I feel like I really messed things up between us.”
Things were messed up, but it wasn’t Asher’s fault. “You didn’t.”
“You sure?”
The kid would be relieved when he found out his mother had made the right decision and he could go back home. For now, though, he had to heal. The rest would all come later. “Positive.”
Once they were parked in Cal’s driveway, he helped Asher out of the truck and then grabbed the kid’s bag of clothes out of the back that Brent had brought to the hospital.
He was halfway to the open door when he heard Ash yell, “Jenna!”
Cal froze. He heard her voice from inside the house, talking to Asher, and the boy’s excited tone, laced with tears.
Part of him wanted to get back in the truck and drive away. Far, far away. The other part of him wanted to tell Jenna to go the hell home.
And the other part . . . the one he didn’t want to acknowledge . . . wanted to rush inside and wrap her in his arms and tuck his nose into her neck, breathing in her scent and feeling her hands massage his back.
His feet carried him to the door, and he stood in the entrance, watching a fresh-faced Jenna fawn over Asher. She was wearing a pair of jean shorts and oversized T-shirt.
Asher was on the couch now, a pillow under his head, the video game controller in his hands. He was smiling up at Jenna like she . . . like she was the sun. And Cal’s heart sank down into the toe of his boots.
She was here for Asher. She must be. The girl had a huge heart. She cared about the kid as much as Cal did.
When the sound of yelling and swords clanging came from the TV and the fast clicking of buttons from the controller, Jenna straightened up, blowing a stray lock of brown hair out of her face that had slipped from her ponytail.
They stared at each other. Cal hadn’t moved from the doorway. He was still wearing the clothes he’d worn last night.