“Zoe?” he says breathlessly.
“Yeah?”
“Move.”
“Huh?”
“You need to move or I’m going to kiss you like you’ve never been kissed before. I’m going to run my hands all over your body until you’re writhing beneath me in absolute want. Then I’ll devour you, and I don’t think either of us are ready to take that step just yet.” He swallows thickly. “So, please…move.”
I step away from him as he exhales a shaky breath and pushes past me.
“Start the breadsticks and watch the water. I’m taking a cold shower.”
I can’t help the laugh that escapes me, and it grows when I hear him mutter a “dammit” before the bathroom door slams closed.
I don’t know what’s worse: that I want him to devour me, or that I’d let him.
Caleb Mills is going to be the death of me.
“Feeling better?” I ask when he emerges fifteen minutes later.
He scrubs his hair with a towel and glowers my way. “You are an evil, evil woman, Zoe Williams.”
I lift a shoulder. “You’re the one who played dirty first, Caleb. Fair’s fair.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t get that dirty.”
“Uh huh. Now, check it out.” I wave a hand over the stove. “I didn’t ruin anything this time. Breadsticks are cooking and the water is boiling.”
“Wow, I’m impressed. I’ll whip up the sauce real quick and then we should be in business. I’m starving all of a sudden.”
“Were you masturbating in there?”
“What? No!” he says too quickly.
“That was not convincing at all. You totally jerked off in the shower just now.”
“I-I did no such th-thing.” His voices wavers at the end.
“You are a terrible liar.”
“I was in the shower for like fifteen minutes. What kind of man do you think I am?”
“Obviously a very speedy one.”
He rushes toward me, giving me a lazy grin. “Oh I’ll show you speedy.”
“All right.” I push at his chest. “Back it up, bucko. We have dinner to finish up.”
Caleb gives me an exaggerated eye roll. “You’re no fun sometimes.”
“I’ll show you fun later.”
“Is that a promise or…”
“It’s a we’ll see.”
“Come on, Zoe.” He waggles his brows. “You can’t resist this sexy body much longer.”
“I can, and I will.”
Now that he’s mentioned it, I realize this is probably the longest I’ve ever gone without sleeping with someone, especially with someone I’ve been…well, whatever I’ve been doing with Caleb.
We’ve been doing this tango of flirting for weeks now, sometimes in person and sometimes by text, but in this day and age, that doesn’t matter much anymore. Flirting is flirting no matter if it’s through a screen or not. It progresses the relationship like it never used to before.
Point is, we have something going on, and we’re clearly still tiptoeing around the end game of it all.
It’s like we’re stuck at bat waiting for the perfect pitch, the perfect moment.
Caleb can joke all he wants about me being the one waiting to make the final move, but truth is, we’re both too scared to push this any further. He says he’s over Delia, and I believe him about that, but I don’t think he’s too keen on jumping into bed with her best friend so soon. He’s not that kind of guy, and he’s never been that kind of guy.
It’s what I like about him so much: he gives a shit. He doesn’t jump into bed with anyone. He has to care about them. They have to mean something to him.
That is so opposite of what I’ve always done and what the men I’ve been with have always done.
For the first time in my life, I’m being cautious.
And I’m loving the slow build.
Though we make no sense together—the artist and the athlete—we somehow make two worlds collide in the best of ways.
“Whatever you say,” he mutters, not sounding convinced at all.
I don’t think I’m convinced either.
He moves around the kitchen, finishing up dinner. He pops the oven open to check on the breadsticks and pauses for a beat too long.
“Zoe?” The way he says it, like something is wrong, has me gripping the edges of the counter.
“Y-Yes?” My response is full of caution and worry.
“Did you happen to turn the oven on?”
I drop my head into my hands, covering my face in shame. “Shit.” He laughs and gathers me into his arms, pressing a kiss against my temple. “I told you I was bad at this.”
“Let’s just be thankful you can bake.”
“We make quite the pair, huh? You do all the cooking, I do all the baking.”
He stiffens ever so slightly, and I hear him gulp. “Yeah. Yeah we do.”
13
Caleb: I hear sappy music coming from your room. Should I be worried?
Me: Nah. I’m painting. I have a huge project due next week. I’ll probably be holed up in here for hours at time until then.
Caleb: Well can’t you put something good on?
Me: Good? GOOD? Joy Division is the epitome of good!
Caleb: Joy Division makes me want to rock in a corner with my thumb in my mouth.
Caleb: What about something from your infamous Breakfast & Beats I’ve yet to be able to participate in?
Me: No. You don’t paint to DMX or Tupac or Nas or Ice Cube. Or Color Me Badd.
Caleb: You actually listen to Color Me Badd?
Me: What? I Wanna Sex You Up is a classic!
Caleb: Hey, Zoe?
Me: Yeah?
Caleb: I wanna TEXT you up. ;-)
Me: I hate you for that.
Caleb: You liar.
Caleb: Now please, change the music. I won’t come in there and force you because it’s your zone and your space and whatever, but I will beg, and I will beg A LOT. I have nothing but free time right now.
Me: You do not have free time. You’re studying.
Caleb: And how do you know that?
Me: Because you’re studious and responsible, that’s how.
Caleb: Whatever. Change the music. No emo shit.
Me: But the emo shit is what you’re supposed to paint to. It brings out the emotions of the colors.
Caleb: Fine. Anything but Joy Division then.
Me: The Smiths? The Cure?
Caleb: …No. That’s basically the same thing.
Me: Then what?
Caleb: Can’t you put on something less…sad?
Me: Hmm…
Me: One moment.
Me: This better?
Caleb: FUCK YES!
Caleb: Zeppelin is always the answer.
Me: What about Pink Floyd?
Caleb: That works too.
Me: WHAT! They are the EPITOME of sad music!
Caleb: It’s all about perspective, baby.
Me: You’re just saying that because you hate Joy Division.
Caleb: My lips are sealed.
Me: Hate you.
Caleb: Liar.
Caleb: I have bad news.
Me: Last time you told me that you didn’t come home for DAYS.
Caleb: It was not DAYS, and I ended up coming home early.
Me: Semantics.
Me: What’s the news?
Caleb: Wellllll…
Me: Caleb!
Caleb: Fine. Remember that date we’re supposed to go on?
Me: The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I remember everything. Continue.
Caleb: Yeah…remember how you talked me out of rage-quitting because they scheduled me to work the night of the show?
Me: Yes…
Caleb: I can’t get anyone to cover my shift. I’m stuck with it.
Me: You can’t go.
Caleb: Correct.
Me: WHAT. UGH! This is so not cool!
Caleb: I know. I’m bummed.
Me: You are not. You didn’t even want to see it once you learned it’s a musical.
Caleb: Not true. The idea has been growing on me. I want to know what all this toast throwing is about and why I need to “do the time warp”…whatever the fuck that is.
Me: It’s just a jump to the left…
Me: LOLOLOLOL
Caleb: *stares*
Me: That was REALLY funny if you’ve actually seen it! Give me SOME credit.
Caleb: No. Anyway, yeah, I can’t go.
Me: But the next showing isn’t until next month.
Caleb: Then we’ll go then.
Me: But you’ll probably hate me and move out by then.
Caleb: Nonsense!
Caleb: Well…maybe. ;-)
Me: HEY! WATCH IT!
Caleb: I kid, I kid. I’ll never tire of your delicious desserts.
Me: Or my sparkling personality. Or my ass. Or my small yet magnificent rack. Or my gorgeous hazel eyes, luscious locks, and loooooong tan (AND TONED!) legs. Or my kisses.
Caleb: Are you done rambling on about how sexy you are?
Me: *reads back through what I wrote* Yep. Covered it all.
Caleb: So full of yourself.
Me: Hey, if I don’t love me, who will?
Caleb: That’s an excellent point.
Caleb: Hey, Zoe?
Me: Yeah?
Caleb: I’m really sorry I can’t make the movie this month, but I promise I’ll be around for it next month.
Me: Swear?
Caleb: On my entire comic book collection.
Me: I’m holding you to that.
Me: And selling it if you back out.
Caleb: Evil.
Me: Are you coming home tonight?
Caleb: Yes, but it won’t be until late.
Me: Does this mean I’m on my own for dinner?
Caleb: Yes, this means you can have cereal for dinner.
Me: You know me so well.
Me: Also, I really feel like I’m getting the shaft here.
Caleb: I can give you the shaft…
Me: I walked right into that one, huh?
Caleb: Oh yeah.
Caleb: Why are you getting the shaft? And if not from me, who are you getting it from?
Me: Oh you ARE the one shafting me. You moved in and promised to make me ALLLL the dinners if I made desserts. You, sir, are a liar. I slave and slave over a hot oven to cook you pies and cookies and cupcakes, and what do I get? CEREAL!
Caleb: To be fair, if I didn’t live there, you’d still be eating cereal, so are you REALLY getting that shafted on this whole deal?
Me: Yes. You’re shafting me hard.
Caleb: Okay, now you’re the one being dirty with the shafting.
Me: What if I like it dirty?
Caleb: Zoe…it’s not nice to tease.
Me: I’m not teasing.
Me: Or am I? ;-)
Caleb: Oh you are, and there’s nothing I can do about it because I’m not there because I’m stuck at this stupid, obnoxious, no help of a study group while you go on and on about being shafted and liking it dirty. That’s teasing.
Me: You’re right. I’m sorry.
Caleb: Is it sad that I know you just typed that with the wickedest grin on your face? Because you did, didn’t you?
Me: Maybe…
Me: Yes.
Me: DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT
Me: By the way, Mittens says he misses you.
Caleb: Dammit, Zoe, did you buy him ANOTHER new sweater?
Me: What? He looks so stinkin’ cute in them, and this one looks like a sweater vest. He looks so smart and sophisticated.
Caleb: That poor, poor cat.
Me: Right? His dad keeps abandoning him. ;-)
Caleb: Not on purpose!
Caleb: But do you see why I wanted to move in with you? My old roommates wouldn’t have paid him any attention at all. At least now I know someone’s showing him affection.
Me: THAT’S why you wanted to move in? So I can be your built-in cat sitter?
Caleb: That and your ass.
Me: Right? It’s so great, isn’t it?
Caleb: Omg. I’m going to go do something productive before you start going on about your attributes again.
Me: Don’t be jealous because I’m sexier than you, Caleb.
Caleb: You are, Zoe. You so are.
Me: What are you doing tomorrow morning?
Caleb: Why?
Me: Reasons.
Caleb: I was going to sleep in a bit since I only have afternoon class.
Me: Excellent! My morning class was canceled. Breakfast & Beats—it’s happening. Ten AM. Be there or be the biggest L-7 weenie on the block.
Caleb: Okay. Yep. I have a homer.
Me: A homer?
Caleb: BONER. I HAVE A BONER. MY GODDAMN DICK IS HARD.
Me: And what brought this on?
Caleb: A hot chick quoted my second favorite movie to me. Instant hard-on.
Me: Ah, yes. I forgot about your love for The Sandlot.
Me: Want me to say something else?
Caleb: NO!
Me: Why?
Caleb: Because it’s going to be real awkward next time I’m watching it and I get a boner remembering you saying it.
Me: Hmm, fair enough.
Me: But B&B? You in?
Caleb: I’m in. I’ve heard too much about it to skip this.
Caleb: And fair warning, my expectations are high. You better deliver on not only breakfast, but beats too.
Caleb: Dancing too. I wanna see that ass shake.
Me: You’re on.
“…give it to ya.”
“Please. Stop. I am begging you.”
“Excuse me.” I pause mid-booty shake. “You’re the one who said you wanted to see this ass shake.”
I continue gyrating, swinging my hips in circles before letting my arms loose and giving my whole body a shake. All the while I stare Caleb down, a smirk on my lips.
He’s hating this, and I’m loving every minute of it.
“I did, and that was my mistake, which I am very, very sorry for making.”
“That’s just mean, Caleb.”
“And true. We cannot forget how true it is.” He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into his arms, landing a kiss on my neck. “You are a horrible singer and dancer.” His lips find my ear. “But you’re still sexy as hell.”
I attempt to wrestle away from him, swatting at his hands with the spatula I’m holding. “If you don’t let me go, I’m going to burn breakfast.”
“Fine, fine.” He releases me and steps away. “The floor is yours, Chef Zoe.”
I point the spatula his way as I walk backward to the stove. “You are a smartass this morning—a mean smartass.”
“Hey, I’m just sayin’, we don’t want you breaking your stellar no-burnt-eggs-and-bacon track record…even though you are cheating with the bacon.”
“Oh my gosh, I am not cheating! It’s still bacon, isn’t it?”
“Pre-cooked bacon, Zoe. Pre-cooked.”
“You really want to trust me to fry bacon?”
“You can always put it in the oven. That requires no skill.” He winks at me. “And you can even use your favorite thing: a timer.”
“You can put bacon in the oven?”
“Yes? Did you not know that?”
“I…I thought you were supposed to fry it. My whole life has been a lie.”
He chuckles at me. “Next time we have Breakfast and Beats, I’ll show you.”
I flip the eggs in the pan, shaking my head. “My mind is blown right now, Caleb, completely blown. My life is about to change. I can have real bacon again.”
He snaps his fingers. “Ha! Even you know it tastes different!”
I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me. “Everyone knows it tastes different. It’s simply the price you pay for convenience and those extra five to ten minutes of sleep in the morning.”
“I don’t think I can argue there. I do love me s
ome sleep.”
“But you never get enough. You’re always on the go.” I move the eggs onto a plate and grab a few pieces of bacon that have been slowly heating in another pan, sliding those onto the plate. I carry it over to Caleb and pin him with a stern stare. “Hence why you’re missing our Rocky Horror date tonight. Jerk.”
Texting (The Complete Series Page 33