Page 8 of Like the Season
Chapter Three
It felt a little strange being at Boyd’s without him, but Caleb would have felt weirder going back to his own apartment. Boyd’s had quickly come to feel likehome, in a way not even the house he’d grown up in had ever felt.
Even his own apartment, which was his first truly independent residence, never quite felt like he belonged there. Almost like a held breath, waiting for…somethingto happen. Good or bad, he never knew.
Until Boyd.
Even though he was alone, he undressed as soon as he arrived and donned his cuffs and collar.
His Master’s rules.
He loved them—and the man.
It didn’t matter they couldn’t be open yet. Just knowing there was someone who loved him for who he was felt amazingly freeing in so many ways. The secrecy now was a small price to pay, in the long run.
Because he had a life together with Boyd ahead of him. It felt like he’d stepped into a different stage of his life, a different season, emerging from a cold, frigid spring into a warm and nurturing summer.
He basked in its warmth and relished every second of freedom now filling his life.
He sent Boyd a text that he’d arrived safe and sound and knew there’d be several hours to wait before Boyd could reply. Setting his alerts for the loudest volume so he wouldn’t miss it, he set about taking care of a few chores around Boyd’s.
One benefit of pretty much living at Boyd’s already meant he had no chores to do at his apartment besides checking his mail.
With those completed, he was going to settle in with his personal laptop to check his work e-mail when his phone went off, startling him.
Especially since it was his father’s ringtone.
I’m an adult. I can do this.
He forced himself to answer, even though his father rarely called him for anything good.
“Hey, Dad. What’s going on?”
“Your momma and me are gonna drive down next weekend. Your aunt Kelly and uncle Frank are in Orlando. We figured we’d stay with you.”
Shit.
He hadn’t heard from the man in months, since he’d moved to Florida, and nowthis?
“Sorry, Dad. I’m not going to be in town next weekend. I’m flying out to Oregon with my boss for a work thing.”
It was close enough to the truth.
“Huh. Ain’tthatconvenient.” From the man’s dark tone, Caleb knew his father thought he was lying.
Okay, so hewaslying, sort of, but he didn’t care. “I’m sorry, Dad. It’s my job.”
“How do we get a copy of your key? Guess we can stay there if you won’t be.”
Why was he afraid of the man? He no longer lived under his roof. “Dad, I won’t be in town. Besides, my place is in Sarasota, not Orlando. You’d be better off getting a hotel room.”
“I don’t want to pay for a hotel room if you live right there.”
“I don’t live ‘right there,’ Dad. You’re not listening. I—”
“Don’t youdaretake that tone with me.”
Caleb felt his stomach twist, the old fears trying to force him into stuttering apologies Caleb didn’t even owe the man. “I live over twohoursaway from Orlando, Dad. South. Even longer if the traffic’s bad. I’m south of Tampa.”
