Page 70 of That One Moment

“I don’t like that you’re not in my hoodie,” I whisper, because I’m suddenly so possessive of this man, I have this urge to keephim dressed in my clothes all the time. There’s something primal and urgent in the thought that has me pushing him towards the desk and hastily undoing my jeans. The need to be inside him, overwhelming.

We work together, a frantic movement of limbs, until he’s naked, his back arched, his elbows resting on the desk. The line of his spine beneath flawless pale skin excites me, and I trace it with my tongue from the tip, beneath his black locks to the base, just above his round, plump ass.

“You’re intoxicating,” I rasp, letting my hands wander his smooth skin, forgetting the fact that we’re in a hurry. “I can’t get enough.”

My hand slides between his cheeks, and he shudders, his hole clenching when my finger gently taps at it.

The sound of a car door closing and voices from the front of the house has Caiden straightening, fast enough that he knocks into me. When he turns around, his cheeks are the prettiest shade of pink I’ve ever seen and his eyes are blown wide. Dark and inviting. I have to kiss him, so despite his attempts at pulling his clothes back on, I grab his throat and haul him to me, smacking my lips to his.

Caiden moans, and my balls ache and I’m very close to sayingfuck itand bending him over anyway, when he pulls away and wipes at his split-slicked lips. “Later,” he pants, patting his mussed hair. “I need to do this now, not a second later. Before I chicken out.”

“Later,” I promise, then help him straighten up so he doesn’t look like he was just about to be fucked, moments before seeing his dad for the first time in three years.

There’s nothing he can do about the hickeys that dot his neck, yet he pulls the collar of his shirt up, giving him a bad boy drummer vibe, in a feeble attempt to cover them up.

Taking a deep breath, I watch as Caiden gives himself a pep talk, then opens the door and pads quietly down the steps. I follow, ready to catch him if everything goes to shit.

Chapter Thirty-One

Caiden

Idon’t know exactly when I realised I’d forgotten what Cooper sounded like. The longer he’s been gone, the harder I’m finding it to recall the finer details of him like his scent and the sound of his laughter. I expected it to be the same with my dad, but as I walk into the kitchen, my first thought is that he sounds just like he always has - his voice a warm, deep timbre. He’s never been a loud man, firm when he needs to be, never the type to shout or raise his voice, but never too softly spoken either.

“I still can’t believe that none of his colleagues showed up, I felt so bad for the guy,” my father says to Maria. His back is to the door and he’s unpacking his laptop bag onto the counter. She looks up when I enter, a smile gracing her face. Dad notices, turning slowly to follow his wife’s line of sight.

When he sees me, he drops the papers in his hand, letting them fall to the counter.

“Caiden?” he says, his voice reverent and unsure - like maybe he can’t believe his eyes. Behind me, Jamie rests a hand on mylower back and nudges me forward. Dad meets me halfway, his eyes glassy and his chin trembling.

“Hi, Dad.”

Those two words must hit him hard because his knees buckle and I dash forward and grab him. He’s taller than me, but so much thinner than I remember. His dark hair is speckled with gray, especially around his temples, but he’s still very much my dad. Still the same man who bandaged up my knee when I fell off my bike, who watched that Peter Pan show three times and stood and cheered at the end of every one, and who never gave up on me, even when I pushed him away.

“This is real, right?” He rests his hands on my shoulder and pushes me back, his eyes scanning me from top to toe. “I began to think I’d never see you again.” Tears streak his face, hiding among the dark beard he’s grown since I last saw him.

We hold each other for what feels like hours, no one speaking. I feel the beating of his heart and his unsteady breaths. Somewhere in the kitchen, someone turns on the kettle, and in the far distance a dog barks. Still, neither of us let each other go.

“I’m sorry,” I cry, my face buried in his neck. “I’m sorry for all of it. For believing Mum, for choosing her, for being such an awful son to you. I’m just so sorry. I cost us so much, Dad. I cost us Cooper.”

“Hey,” he says, his voice hoarse with emotion, moving me so we’re eye to eye. “You did no such thing. You were a child when your mother left and we used you and your brother as weapons against each other. That’s on us, not on you. I’m sorry I was hard on you, I should have been better. As for Coop,” he wipes the tears from my cheeks with the back of his hand. “Cooper died in an unfortunate accident.”

Shaking my head, I pull out of his hold. Why is no one blaming me? Why does no one - not Dad, not Maria, not Jamie - see that it was my fault?

“An accident he wouldn’t have been in if not for me!” Everything in me aches as I tell my dad, and Maria - who is standing at his side now - every sordid detail of what happened that night and the months leading up to it. About Mum, and about Kyle. I say it all, letting the words tumble out in painful gasps that leave me empty and cold.

“I’m sorry that happened to you, my boy,” my dad says, his voice filled with compassion. “I’m sorry that man hurt you. I can see why you’re blaming yourself, but you need to stop doing that. Anything could have happened that night. You could have been driving - or Jamie could have. We could have lost either of you or all of you. There is no way to ever know and we can’t move forward if we’re stuck looking back.”

Jamie’s hand is still on my back and I press into his touch. He makes me feel safe. Grounded. He gives me so much with one touch of his hand.

“I wish it had been me instead,” I admit, hanging my head. Jamie grumbles and Dad moves to stand right in front of me, the black toes of his shiny work shoes touching the tips of my socked feet. He tips my chin up and I’m forced to look into the same shockingly blue eyes I share with him and used to share with Cooper.

“I don’t.” He shakes his head. “God, Cade, please tell me you haven’t spent these past three years wishing you’d died?”

I choke on my words but manage a garbled yes then show him the scar on my wrist. Maria gasps and silent tears trail down my dad's cheeks.

“I miss Cooper. I just wanted to be with him again. If I had died that day instead of him, or with him, I wouldn’t hurt so much. Everything hurts, all the time,” I sob.

“Oh, Cade.” Dad takes a tissue that Maria offers him and dabs at my wet cheeks. “I’m sorry I didn’t do better by you. I know I wasn’t always a good dad and I regret so much that I nevershowed you how much I love you - maybe if I had, you wouldn’t have left when we needed each other most.”

---