by Aly Martinez
“That’s funny. You didn’t get pissed off until I mentioned Alex and Hunter.”
Christ, I’ve got to end this call. She is entirely too perceptive of my moods.
“Listen, I need to go. I’ll let you know when they move Sarah.”
“Thanks, Caleb,” she breathes into the phone, and I have to suck in breath of my own. I can feel her words, and not just in my pants. Yeah, definitely time to say goodnight.
“Bye, Emma.” I hang up the phone before she has a chance to say anything else.
My ass stays glued to the couch for the next twenty minutes while I try to figure out what the hell to do about Emma. I don’t know her. She’s probably a total bitch just like her sister. Damn it, why the fuck does she have to be Sarah’s sister? That one relationship complicates everything. It’s not like I can fuck her out of my system like I do with other women. Then again, I’ve never had a woman in my system since Manda. I can’t touch Emma. No matter how much I want to. It would be seven million shades of fucked up when things got messy. And there is no doubt things would get messy. Sarah would flip her crazy shit if she found out I was sleeping with her sister. Hell, that little thought alone makes me want to do it all the more.
IT’S WELL after midnight, but I’m still awake and sanding down the new coffee table I just finished. After trying to run off the Erickson trance, I retreated out to my workshop. I always feel better after a few hours of decompressing with a belt sander. The sound of Sarah McLachlan’s Blackbird is blaring through the speakers. It might be an odd choice to some, but it stays on repeat when I’m out here.
My phone lights up from across the room. It’s late but it’s not unheard of for me to get calls this time of night. But when I see Emma’s name on the screen, I’m immediately worried. She was out drinking tonight with two dickheads. I swear if those asspucks let anything happen to her, I’ll kill them myself.
I immediately snatch up my phone. “Emma?”
“Caleb,” she says, crying through the phone.
I start scanning the shop for my car keys but pause when I realize there is nothing I can do. I’m helpless. What the fuck am I going to do? Jump in the car and drive sixteen hours down to Savannah?
“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Are you all right?” I ask as she continues to sob over the phone.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called so late. It’s just… I had way too much to drink, and I feel like shit about not being there for Sarah over the last few years. I’m such an asshole for abandoning her like I did. She needed me, but I just walked away because I was so afraid of losing her.” My pulse begins to slow and I begin to relax as she continues blubbering over the line.
Fuck. Why do I always overreact to shit when it comes to woman I care about? I was never this way before Manda died, but now I always assume the absolute worst. I have a need to save people and do what I couldn’t do for Manda. Shit, did I just admit that I care about Emma Erickson? This little obsession I have with her just went from bad to fucking ludicrous. I’ve had two conversations with her. I really should go back to being a dick. At least then she will hate me.
“Caleb, are you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here. Did you need something or were you just calling to bitch and cry?” I ask, pulling some old-fashioned asshole out of my back pocket.
“Don’t be a dick just to keep me at a distance,” she says, shocking the shit out of me. I pull the phone away and look at it as if Siri is going to explain to me how the fuck she just read my mind.
“I thought you weren’t a crier?” I decide to keep it up even though she’s onto me.
“I’m not usually, but I just had a threesome with my roommates and it made me all emotional.”
“What the fuck, Emma?” I scream over the phone.
At the exact same time, she screams, “I knew it!” Damn, if she didn’t just trick me into blowing my own asshole cover, and it only serves to piss me off for real this time.
“What do you want, Emma? A pep talk about what a great sister you are? Because I am fresh out of those tonight. I’m glad to hear you got tag-teamed. Every woman deserves a good dick in the ass every now and again. But if that’s all you called for, I’m headed to bed.”
“Tell me why you got upset earlier when I told you I was going out with Hunter and Alex?”
“Oh Jesus Christ, Emma. What the fuck do I need to say to get off the phone right now?”
“The truth would work,” she says, annoyed. And guess what? It pisses me off even more that she has the balls to be annoyed with me. I didn’t call her at midnight. I barely even know this woman. Still, somehow I’m so attracted to her that I find myself trying to protect myself from her and what is sure to be a train wreck.
“Okay. The truth. Fine. You’re sexy as fuck, and I can’t stop thinking about drilling into that smartass mouth of yours. And after hearing about your little double-play action tonight, you can add your ass to that list too.”
“Wow. That really was honest,” she says, taken aback by my outburst.
“Great, I’m glad you approve. Now, I’m going to bed.”
“Caleb, wait.”
“Goodnight.” I hang up before I can say anything else I’ll fucking regret.
I stand in the center of the room for a few minutes just trying to catch my breath. I can’t believe I just said all of that to her. So much for not complicating things.
I lock up my workshop and barely make it back into the house before the phone chirps in my hand.
I just called tonight because I needed to talk to someone who understood the whole Sarah situation. I’m sorry if I bothered you. -Em
Great, now she’s texting. This woman is obviously not used to men ignoring her. I can definitely see why. She’s beautiful and I’m treating her like shit for no reason other than self-preservation. Why the hell do I feel guilty now? I let out a loud sigh before picking up my phone to text her back. I type out about twenty different replies but delete them all without sending.
What exactly do you say to a woman after you blow up and tell her you want to fuck her in the ass? I’m pretty sure that is the moment you just cut your losses and move on. But this isn’t just any woman. This is Emma, the person I promised to keep updated about Sarah until she can finally move up to Chicago. Before I have another chance to reply, my phone chirps again.
FYI: Now, would be a good time for you to apologize. If you don’t respond, I will just have to assume your silence is the Jones version of a profuse apology. :) -Em
As frustrated as I may feel, I can’t help but burst out laughing. It is almost one in the morning, but I’m off tomorrow, so I head to the fridge and crack open a beer. I toss the phone around in my hands for a few minutes, debating how to respond. But I knew what I was going to do as soon as I read her last text. I shake my head at myself and dial Emma’s number.
“Jesus, Caleb, do you always call people so late?” she says sarcastically when she answers.
“Not all people. Just the lucky ones.”
“Well I’ll consider myself very lucky tonight then.”
“Yeah, it sounds like you were really lucky tonight. Two guys, huh?” I try to lighten things a bit. I know she was just fucking with me, and I played right into her hand with my reaction.
“You know I didn’t really have a threesome tonight.” I can hear the smile in her voice.
“I know you didn’t.” I let out a guilty sigh. “I’m sorry.”
“Do you always act like a kindergartener when you like a girl?”
“Who said I like you?” I mock surprise.
Yeah, I gave myself away. She knows that I think she’s hot, but wanting to have sex with someone is very different than actually liking them. At least it is in my world. I’ve had sex with numerous women since Manda. Never once have I even thought twice about them though. That is until Emma ran into my life.
“You called back, didn’t you?”
Damn it, busted again! She’s right. I like h
er even though I know absolutely nothing about her. I need to remedy this without acting like a broody, sullen teenager. Who knows. Maybe I will be able to shake her once I get to know her a little better.
“What’s your favorite color, Emma Jane Erickson?”
“What is this, the get-to-know-each-other portion of the night? I never thought you would be so cliché, Detective Jones.” She laughs for a second before answering, “Orange.”
“Oh, come on. No one likes orange.”
“I do.”
“Why?”
“Why not? It’s different and bold. It stands out amongst a blank world of black, white, and gray. Orange is the early morning sun stretching across the sky and the color of a burning ember standing tall in the middle of a beach bonfire. It’s leaves in the fall, carrots in Nana’s vegetable soup on a cold winter day, tulips in the spring, and the ladybugs in the middle of the grassy park on a hot summer afternoon. Orange is life. It’s unexpected but beautiful.” She stops talking, and her depth silences me too.
I consider myself a very artistic person. I draw, paint, and build. Creation is my escape. And to listen to this woman wax poetic about a single simple color steals my breath. It embeds itself somewhere deep inside. A place where no woman, especially an Erickson, has any business being.
“Oh, and it’s my favorite flavor of candy too.”
And with those simple words, I know I’m in trouble. So fucking much trouble. I begin to laugh, and I mean really laugh. The kind that sticks with you even after the joke is long since forgotten, and I do it for the first time in almost five years. Fuck.
“What about you, Caleb? What’s your favorite color?” The curious tone in her voice piques my interest. Is she as attracted to me as I am to her? If she feels anywhere close to what I feel, that could be seriously dangerous.
“Brown,” I answer simply.
“You gave me shit about orange when your favorite color is brown?” she yells, making me laugh harder.
God, I miss this. For the last few years, I’ve met nothing but she-bots. You know the kind—robots who always say what they think you want to hear. They say all the right things, are always aware of their surroundings, and read the people they interact with but never show you their true colors. I fucking loathe she-bots.
“What did you do tonight?” I ask when my curiosity gets the best of me. I may know she wasn’t having a threesome, but that doesn’t mean I’m not dying to know what she was doing.
“We went dancing at the gay club. It was so much fun. Hunter and Alex had this ridiculous bet going.”
“Shit. Your roommates are gay, aren’t they?” I ask, and she starts laughing so loud I have to pull the phone away from my ear.
“Oh my God, no, they aren’t. But I can’t wait to tell them you assumed that. It was actually ladies’ night at the gay club.”
“Are you gay?” I shout, which only causes her to laugh even louder.
At this point, I have no doubt that she is rolling around on her bed in a fit of laughter. I can even picture it. She’s probably half naked, wearing only a tight little see-through tank top and thong. Her nipples are peaked from a chill in the air. No, wait. Strike that. Her nipples are peaked from how turned on she is from being on the phone with me. She’s probably even stoking her clit through her panties…
She interrupts my daydreaming with an equally stimulating answer. “No, I prefer my lovers with a dick.”
We are both in luck, because I just so happen have one of those growing in my pants as we speak. I’ll keep that large tidbit to myself though. Honestly I’m not even sure why we are having this conversation right now. But I know I don’t want to get off the phone yet.
“So what were you doing at a ladies’ night at the gay club?” I try to change back to a subject that won’t have me picturing her naked.
“The guys had a very interesting drunken conversation last night. It basically consisted of them debating if lesbians really only like women because they can’t get guys. So they decided to make a bet about who could get one into bed first.”
“Wow. They sound like idiots,” I say little too roughly, but douchebags like that make my skin crawl.
“Yeah, they are. They are also really are good guys, but total meatheads sometimes.”
“They don’t sound like meatheads. They sound like assholes,” I say very matter-of-factly. I have zero tolerance for ignorant tools like them.
“Hey, stop judging people you don’t even know. That makes you an asshole. They were just joking!” she yells, and I can tell that her hackles have risen. She must be pretty tight with these guys to get all mama bear over this. If she only knew what I really wanted to call them.
“My sister, Lindsey, has been happily married for over three years to a woman she has been with for over twelve years. Sorry, but I don’t find trolling for homosexual woman in an attempt to change them even the slightest bit humorous.”
“Shit,” she whispers to herself.
“Yeah, ‘shit’ about sums it up.”
“I’m so sorry, Caleb. I wasn’t trying to be insensitive. They were just being stupid.”
“It’s okay, Emma. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. However, I stand by my earlier description that they are assholes.”
“No, it’s not. I should have stopped them, but honestly it was hilarious watching women shoot them down over and over again. Both of them left with their tails firmly curled between their legs.”
“Well, at least they got put in their place.” I just wish it were me who had put them there.
“I got hit on a few times though.”
“Oh yeah? How’d you handle that?” I ask, sipping off my beer.
“I very kindly told them that I was straight then offered a compliment on their shoes, shirts, or hair. By the end of the night, I had quite a few friends.”
“I bet you had more than just a few friends,” I tease.
“Well I had more than the guys, that’s for sure.” She laughs before the phone goes quiet with uncomfortable silence. “So. You’ve been thinking about my ass?” she questions, referring to my outburst earlier.
“Ah, that. Yeah, that was the truth, but I’ll be happy to tell you it was a lie if it would make you more comfortable.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” she boldly admits, surprising me once again. I can’t believe she is being this forward or…well, honest. But based on our earlier conversation, it’s not exactly like I’ve been good at hiding my attraction either.
“Shit, Em. That makes two of us.”
“This is going to be really bad, isn’t it?” she says quietly.
“Probably,” I answer shortly. It’s not exactly the truth. This is going to be far worse than bad. This is going to be epic proportions of horrible, but I still ask, “When are you coming back?”
“Hopefully late next week. Just depends how quickly I can get packed and finish the photos for my clients here before I leave.”
There is no doubt that this is going to end in disaster, but once again, I add fuel to the fire. “You want to meet for dinner or something when you get back?” I have no idea what I’m doing, but if she is going to be this open, then I am too.
“Yeah, I think I’d like that.” Once again, she sounds happy, and the seriousness fades from my voice too.
“I need to go before I have a chance to ask you something stupid, like the color of your bra,” I say, equally praying to God that she will and won’t answer.
“Nude,” she announces without hesitation.
“And now I have to go!” I stand up off the couch. I don’t know where I think I’m going to escape when the phone is still securely anchored to my ear, but I know I need to stop this conversation.
“Okay. Go to bed,” she says with a small laugh that proves that she knows exactly how much she’s affecting me. “Oh, and Caleb?” She catches me before I can say goodbye. “I didn’t mean nude the color.”
I have to bite my lip to keep
a groan from escaping. What the fuck happened here tonight? I went from being an absolute dick to having a date and all-too-vivid image of Emma’s lack of undergarments. Fuck. Me.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.” I quickly pull the phone away, ending the call.
I fall back on the couch, shaking my head at myself. I just opened a door, and Emma all too willingly walked right through it. Let the shit show begin.
AFTER CALEB and I got off the phone last night, I struggled to fall back asleep. I went to the living room and had a long talk with Hunter and Alex. I love those guys. They were half drunk, but that only made the conversation more interesting.
Hunter has been moping around since I told him I was moving out. He was pissed at first, but after a little chat, he understood why I needed to go. He just didn’t understand why I was making it a permanent move instead of just an extended stay. I love that boy, but damn he is so hardheaded when he wants to be. I know he’s going to miss me. Hell, I’m going to miss the shit of out of him too. He and I have been through a lot together. He leaned on me about his girl and his best friend. And over the last few years, I’ve really leaned on him about Sarah. He swears he is going to come visit once a month, and I don’t doubt that for one second.
Alex is much more laid back about my up and leaving. I know he loves me. It’s nothing personal. He’s just a big tough guy, and even if my leaving devastated him, he’d never tell me. He and I just have a very different relationship than Hunter and I do. While Hunter is my overprotective best friend, Alex is my overprotective big brother. I’ve known him since elementary school. He lived next door for most of our lives. Truth be told, he actually made out with Sarah on more than one drunken occasion growing up. He’s always been a part of my life.
When Alex graduated, he went off to the University of Georgia on a football scholarship. The following year, when I graduated, I followed him up there. He took me under his wing, and when I say that, I mean he ran off any guy who tried to look at me. I was off-limits to the entire football team, yet I still managed to date two of them behind his back. He’s a big teddy bear. I know he means well, but we still butt heads a good bit.