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Fight or Flight

Page 17

by Young, Samantha


  “She’s my family.”

  “Because neither of you have a good one?” he asked. I was taken aback by his curiosity.

  I nodded, but was unable to give him any more than a confirmation. Not because I didn’t trust him with the information, but because I felt like if I started to confide in him, it would make my feelings for him deepen.

  A small frown appeared between his brows but he didn’t push the subject. Thankfully, activity on the stage and the murmurings of the crowd distracted us. People surged in front of us toward the stage as the band appeared, but Caleb and I stayed where we were. Harper approached as Vince sauntered onto stage. I could just make him out over the heads of the people in front of us.

  Harper handed me my beer, her eyes toward her boyfriend. “Do you want to get closer?” I asked.

  “No, we’re cool here. You know I don’t like feeling cramped in.”

  I nodded, watching her as she stared at Vince, something like pride filling her expression as he pulled on his guitar. Vince McFarlane, a sexy Irish-American boy with an even sexier Southie accent, had risen from the depressing pits of foster care after being orphaned at twelve years old. Harper admired his ambition and talent, and I felt pleased for her that she’d finally found a guy who didn’t seem to begrudge her her own ambition.

  “Hey—” The mic crackled as Vince’s gravelly voice echoed around us. “Thanks for coming tonight. If you don’t already know, we’re called State of Play.” Then he strummed his guitar and the lights went down as his band began to play. I quite liked Vince’s music. It was more indie rock, their sound reminding me a little of Kings of Leon. Vince had the same kind of coarse sexy vocals as Caleb Followill, and it was easy to see how Harper had fallen under his spell the night they’d met. She’d been at a bar in Cambridge with some fellow music-lover friends when she saw Vince’s band play for the first time. She told me it had been instalust like she’d never felt before. He saw her in the crowd, they’d had some seriously hot eye contact, and when he’d finished his set he’d pushed through the crowd and walked right up to her and asked her if he could buy her a drink.

  The rest was history.

  I was delighted for my friend, but I was also a little jealous that she was brave enough to throw herself into a relationship. Harper had gone through worse than I could imagine and yet she was less restrained by her past than I was.

  I envied her courage.

  “They’re good,” Caleb said loudly, not hiding his surprise.

  “Yeah, they are.” Harper grinned. “My guy is going places!”

  “How long have they been at this?” Caleb asked her, shouting over the music to be heard.

  “About a year!” she yelled back. “Vince has been in a couple of bands, but these guys really gel together. Vince is the songwriter. Considering his age, the music blows me away.”

  “His age?”

  “Yeah, he’s younger than me. He’s only twenty-two.”

  When Harper first told me her boyfriend’s age, I’d been skeptical. Men were immature as it was, so I wasn’t too keen on the idea of her dating a guy who’d only legally been able to drink for a year. But she’d assured me that Vince’s time in foster care, the situations he’d been through, had given him a maturity beyond his years. He was the first guy she’d ever confided her traumatic past to, feeling he more than anyone would understand.

  I was beginning to suspect my friend was falling in love for the first time.

  Caleb just nodded at the information and continued to listen to State of Play. We all did. By the time they’d finished their set, my ears were buzzing, I was too hot, and my feet were starting to hurt in my stilettos. There really was a reason most of the women were wearing boots, like Harper.

  Not surprisingly, after a sweaty Vince managed to make his way through a congratulating crowd toward us, he managed to charm up a free table for us. He introduced us to his three band members, who looked so alike I forgot who was who seconds after the introductions. They left us to go talk to some girls who were eager to meet them. Vince wrapped his arm around Harper and drew her into his side as he sipped at a beer across the table from me and Caleb.

  “So, Caleb, where in Scotland are you from?” Vince asked.

  “I live in Glasgow. I enjoyed your music, by the way.”

  Vince grinned. “Hey, thanks. Means a lot.”

  I shared a look with Harper, knowing she was thinking what I was thinking. That we could sit and listen to these two hot guys with their hot accents all night. I almost laughed at us being so profoundly girly.

  Our conversation was easy despite the four of us coming from different walks of life. We talked music and Glasgow versus Boston for a while, only to be rudely interrupted by a tall girl in a tight black dress with lots of red hair and lots of cleavage. She put her hand on the table and leaned in toward Vince, giving him an eyeful of her impressive chest. “Hey, Vince, when are you coming over to catch up with me and Sarah? It’s been a while.”

  Irritation made me tense, my gaze moving to Harper, who shocked me by merely staring dully at the table in front of her.

  Vince’s hand tightened on Harper’s shoulder and he gave the redhead a polite smile. “Just hanging with my girl and her friends right now, Lisa.”

  “We can’t stay long. Come hang out. You know you always have a good time with us.” Her voice was thick with innuendo. I scowled at her brazen rudeness.

  Still, Harper didn’t look up from the table.

  What the hell?

  “Hey.” I snapped my fingers in the redhead’s face, forcing her up off the table. “Vince is hanging with his girlfriend right now—” I waved my hand at her. “So shoo.”

  She shot me a dark look but backed up and stalked away.

  Wondering why I was the one dealing with the intrusive groupie, I gave Harper a sharp look of confusion, which she ignored.

  “Sorry.” Vince shrugged. “It happens.”

  Irritated that he didn’t seem that bothered by it and that Harper was uncharacteristically quiet, I clamped my lips shut and allowed him and Caleb to carry the conversation.

  They had been talking about the great music scene in Glasgow and that led to them talking about bars, then somehow onto restaurants. “There are amazing places tae eat in Glasgow,” Caleb informed us. “Though Canterbury gives them a run for their money,” he said to Harper. “The food is fantastic.”

  She grinned, a little of her cocky self finally shining through. “I told you.”

  “Yeah.” Vince snorted. “They just work her to the bone for a goddamn dessert, but the food is fantastic.”

  My eyes widened at the snarky comment, a fresh tension falling over the table. Harper cut him a mystified look. “Vince?”

  I watched a muscle in his jaw flex. “C’mon, I can’t be the only one that thinks the hours you work are ridiculous. Right, Ava?”

  I narrowed my eyes. Wasn’t this guy supposed to be supportive? All evidence tonight had been to the contrary. “I think if you want to be great at anything, it takes a lot of hard work and dedication. I think Harper is only twenty-six years old and a top pastry chef in a Michelin-star restaurant. And I think that if Harper is happy to put in a lot of hours to be at the top in her industry, then I’m happy to support her.”

  Hearing the warning in my voice, Vince shifted uncomfortably, an expression I could only describe as petulant entering his gaze. I suddenly felt the eight-year age gap between us, and it seemed massive.

  As soon as I got Harper alone, she was in for a grilling, because this Vince was not at all the Vince I’d met before or had been led to believe she was dating. He was supposed to support her career, not be like every other whining idiot who wanted her to put them before her career. And suddenly, I was done for the night. Harper wasn’t acting like herself and it was pissing me off.

  “You know, I have a headache.” I turned to Caleb. “Would you mind if we go now?”

  He immediately nodded. “Sure, babe.”
r />   We got out of our seats and I walked around the table to hug Harper good night. She stared up at me but I couldn’t read her expression as I leaned down to give her a half hug and a kiss on the cheek. “We’ll talk,” I murmured in her ear.

  My friend just nodded and bid me a quiet good night.

  “Night, Vince,” I said, barely looking at him as I turned away.

  Caleb held out his hand to me, and I was momentarily taken aback before I reached for it, enjoying the feel of his warm hand curling tightly around my smaller one. He led me through the crowd and out of the bar, the chill night air rushing over us.

  We strolled in silence down the street to where he’d parked his borrowed Maserati. He let go of my hand to open the door for me and I got in, relaxing immediately into the seat.

  Nope. Great Scott was definitely not my scene, and watching Harper being cowed by a groupie and then berated by her boyfriend was definitely not my scene.

  As soon as Caleb got into the car and drove off, I sighed. “I’m sorry. That was awkward.”

  “You seem worried about Harper. Do you not like this guy? We can go back and get her if you want.”

  Gratitude and something else I didn’t want to analyze moved through me warm and swift at his offer. “No, she’s a big girl. I just hope she knows what she’s doing. It isn’t like her to allow some catty girl to pretend like she doesn’t exist. Or to allow a guy to come down on her about how hard she works. She told me Vince was different. I thought Vince was different.”

  Caleb kept his eyes on the dark road but smirked as he said, “Well, you took care of the catty girl for her.”

  I grinned. “Were you entertained?”

  “Aye.” He flashed me a wicked smile. “Aye, you entertain me.”

  Feeling something I didn’t want to admit to but at the same time I couldn’t ignore, I found myself longing to take Caleb home. To wake up in my bed and see him sleeping there. To drink coffee with him in my kitchen.

  They were dangerous thoughts, but they were also persistent. “Why don’t I entertain you at my place tonight? You could … stay.”

  His hands tightened around the steering wheel, his amusement dying a quick death. “Ava …”

  “Don’t make more out of it than there is,” I hurried to say, suddenly deeply aggravated by his commitment phobia. “It’s still just sex but this time neither of us has to get out of bed in the middle of the night. If you fall asleep beside me I’m going to take it to mean you’re tired, not that you want to fall asleep beside me forever. Okay?” I hoped I sounded dry and blithe enough for him.

  His hands relaxed. “Okay.”

  Wanting to dispel the sudden tension between us, I mused, “I’ve never had sex in my bed, you know.”

  Just as I’d hoped, despite his misgivings, the idea that he would be the first guy in my current bed appealed to his inner alpha.

  The car jolted forward, moving faster toward town and my bed.

  Sixteen

  It would be an understatement to say we were both eager to get back to my apartment. Several times I had to ask Caleb to slow down on our short drive back into the city. He muttered expletives under his breath but did as I asked. I was almost laughing with giddiness as he drove down Mount Vernon Street.

  “This is where you live?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Hmm.”

  I didn’t know what the “hmm” meant, so I looked for a parking space instead. “There’s a space.” I pointed to an empty spot a minute walk from my place. “We can walk to the apartment.” It was a miracle to get a parking spot on my street, so we’d need to take what we could get.

  Once he’d parked, Caleb got out and hurried around to the passenger side to help me out. His grip on my hand tightened and I found myself being practically hauled over onto the tree-lined sidewalk as Caleb pressed the key fob to lock the Maserati.

  “Where is your apartment?” he demanded.

  I giggled. “Keep walking. I’ll let you know when we’re there.”

  He grunted and proceeded to drag me.

  “Caleb.” I laughed. “I’m in heels.”

  And just like that he abruptly stopped, came at me, and—before I could blink—swung me up into his arms like a groom would hold his bride to carry her across the threshold. I let out a girlish noise of shock, looping my arms around his neck as he began striding down the street like I weighed nothing.

  “You are such a Neanderthal.” I laughed.

  He grinned at me, a flash of white teeth in the dimly lit street. “You love it.”

  “I’m not going to lie—this is hot. You’re very strong,” I purred, reaching over to bite his earlobe.

  His grip on me tightened and his pace quickened. “You’re five foot nothing. You weigh nothing.”

  That was nice but such a lie. “I have an ass and boobs. I weigh something.”

  He ignored me and kept walking. “Where is this bloody place?”

  Smiling at his impatience, I let go of his neck to wave at my front stoop, when the sight of a dark figure standing up on the steps made me falter. “Caleb.”

  My tone made him slow.

  “Do you know that person?”

  The dark figure became clearer as he began walking toward us slowly.

  My heart rate suddenly accelerated, and as if he felt it, Caleb asked in concern, “Ava?”

  “Put me down,” I whispered. “Caleb, put me down.”

  He immediately and gently lowered me to my feet.

  And suddenly I was face-to-face with my past, feeling so cold it iced the sexual heat right out of me. “What are you doing here?”

  The man stepped under a streetlamp, illuminating his scowl as his gaze bounced between me and Caleb. “I needed to see you.”

  “Ava?” Caleb asked me, his hand resting on my lower back, reminding me he was there if I needed him.

  I leaned into his touch. “Caleb, this is Nick. Nick, this is Caleb.”

  “Nick?” he said, his tone suggesting he remembered me telling him about Nick.

  “What do you want?”

  “I …” Nick ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated. “I got your address from your mom. I, uh … I came to apologize. To talk. In private.”

  “No,” I said, my tone harsh. “Go home, Nick.” I grabbed Caleb’s hand and began leading him away from the blast from my past.

  “Ava.” Nick grabbed my arm. “Please.”

  Suddenly Caleb was between us, his hand on Nick’s chest. He seemed to tower over him even though he was only an inch or two taller than my ex. “She said, go home.”

  Nick took a wary step back. “I’ll leave you be. But I’m not going home. We need to talk.”

  Before I could reply Nick strode away, his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched at his ears.

  Shaken, angry, confused, I twisted away and hurried up my stoop. When Caleb didn’t follow, I called back to him. “Are you coming or not?”

  He moved toward me, tailing me up to the front door and inside, our footsteps echoing on the stairs as I led him up to the first floor to my apartment. As soon as we were inside, I locked the door and grabbed fistfuls of his shirt in my hand, pulling him toward the back of the apartment, to my bedroom. I pulled him down into my kiss, not expecting him to push me away, his face flushed with anger, not passion.

  “This might just be sex, babe, but it’s supposed tae be sex between just you and me. If you think we’re doing this when your mind is on another man, you’ve got another thing coming.”

  Shocked that he’d think that, I shook my head in denial. “I don’t want him like that. It’s been a long time since I ever wanted him like that. But seeing him brings up a lot of pain that I don’t want to deal with right now. I don’t want to think about the fact that he and Gem were the only people that kept me sane growing up with parents who neglected me to the point of putting me in harm’s way. They protected me, not my mom and dad. Nick protected me. He said he loved me. We all wen
t to college together. He proposed to me when we graduated. It was supposed to be forever and it wasn’t. So I don’t want to think about how the two people I trusted most in my life—my fiancé and my best friend—told me a year after he’d proposed that they’d been cheating on me for months and then promptly ran off together to get married. And I don’t want to think about how I never forgave them and how now I can never forgive her because she’s dead. And I don’t want to think about why that man is in my city now when I never wanted to see him again.

  “I just want you, Caleb. The one man I’ve ever met who hasn’t lied to me. Who hasn’t made promises he can’t keep and that I don’t want him to keep.” And I didn’t, I realized with a blast of cold reality. These past few days Caleb had confused me. The passion between us confused me. But Nick was a swift and much needed reminder that this kind of love just hurt too damn much and never seemed to be worth it in the end. I didn’t want to feel anything beyond desire for Caleb. And I wouldn’t. “You’re right. This, between us, will only ever be about sex. But it is just between you and me. I am never thinking about anyone else but you when we’re together. How could I?” I whispered, hoping he saw how much I wanted him. “And right now I need you to make me forget that tomorrow I have to wake up knowing that asshole is in my city.”

  Apparently, I didn’t need to ask him twice.

  Perhaps it was only the light warmth of the morning sun tickling my face that woke me up the next day. It certainly felt like it as consciousness seeped in, rescuing me from a dream where I was chasing Gem through Phoenix while Nick chased me. I’d felt terror that I’d never catch her and fear that he would catch me.

  However, when I opened my eyes slowly, blinking against the light flooding the room, the first thing that came into focus was Caleb’s pale blue eyes staring at me with unmasked curiosity.

  The evening before came rushing back and as I shifted under the covers I felt our physical activities in the slight ache in my muscles.

  I had attacked the poor guy last night.

  Not that he’d been complaining. He gave as good as he got.

  If I was being honest with myself, I’d half expected to wake up and find him gone since he’d been so uncomfortable with the idea of sleeping over in the first place, but you wouldn’t think it of him with his casual, at-ease pose, lying on his side on my bed gazing at me. I suddenly wondered if it was his eyes on my face that had woken me rather than the morning sun.

 

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