Fight or Flight
Page 23
“I promised Jamie we’d do the tourist thing together today. I need tae get back.”
I stopped myself from telling him how sweet it was that he wanted to spend time with his younger brother and instead just let myself think it. Evidence so far suggested Caleb was a good brother.
“Let’s do dinner, though,” he said, sitting down on the bed to put his socks and shoes back on.
About to agree, I stopped in my tracks as I remembered I had a date that night.
Leo.
Oh no.
Should I tell Caleb the truth or just—
He glanced over his shoulder in question and I knew I couldn’t ever lie to him. Not even a little white lie. He wouldn’t lie to me. “I, um … well, I actually have a date tonight.” And I wasn’t sure I wanted to cancel it. Yes, I was addicted to Caleb. But Leo was charming and a much safer option for my heart than Caleb Scott.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to relinquish that option.
Caleb turned away to concentrate on lacing up his shoes. His voice was flat as he asked, “I’m going tae assume it’s not serious yet.”
I hated the dull quality of his tone. It made my skin prickle in warning. “You assume correctly. This is technically our first date tonight. Moreover, Leo and I agreed we’re not looking for anything serious.”
He looked over his shoulder again, one eyebrow impressively raised in what I’d soon realize was disbelief. “So you’re telling me I’m not enough tae satisfy you?”
I rolled my eyes. “You know that’s not true. But I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon … or at all. I made plans and he’s a nice guy.”
“Quick work,” Caleb muttered, standing up off the bed, his back to me again.
Realizing that the warning prickle I’d felt earlier was in recognition of Caleb’s rapidly changing mood, I lay stunned. It was as if he was upset by this information. Which totally pissed me off, because I’d been trying for the last six weeks not to think about the plethora of women he’d probably already been with. And he was pissed I had a date? I seethed but kept it hidden behind a sardonic, “Are you saying you’ve been celibate for the last six weeks?”
I watched him, his back still to me, as he began to button his shirt. “I’ve been uprooting my life for the last six weeks. There wasn’t time tae find a woman.”
This surprised and warmed me. But I hated the relief that shuddered through me and I wanted him to turn around and look at me.
Instead he bit out, “I take it that means you’ve fucked other men while I’ve been gone?”
“Oh yeah.” I glared at him. “Because that sounds like me.”
His hands fell to his sides and still he didn’t turn to me. Finally, after a few tense seconds of silence, he spoke in that dull, horribly flat tone again. “Well, call me when you have time tae fit me into your busy schedule.” He turned ever so slightly, so I could just see his profile and the brittle clench of his jawline. “And if we’re both now good tae see other people, we’ll need tae get tested regularly.”
And on that rather unromantic and alarming announcement, he walked out before I could respond.
I flinched at the sound of my apartment door slamming shut. It wouldn’t surprise me to find the plasterwork cracked around the frame.
His last words reverberated around my head like a scream, and bitter tears filled my eyes. I didn’t want Caleb sleeping with other women! But I would have no right to demand that of him if I started sleeping with Leo.
Suddenly I couldn’t even picture the idea of having sex with Leo Morgan. How could I think he was even an option now that Caleb was back? I was in serious, serious denial about the state of my relationship with Caleb—I knew that. But after his cold reaction, I didn’t think I was the only one.
Groaning, I got out of bed, pulled on a robe, and wandered out to the living room, where my shoes and underwear lay on the ground. My purse with my cell was on the coffee table. Not looking forward to the task ahead, I found Leo’s number and called him.
The compulsion to speak to Caleb, to tell him I had no intention of sleeping with anyone but him in the foreseeable future, was too strong. Throughout the day, I attempted to distract myself from my mess of confused emotions. First I went for a long run. Then I texted Harper to see if she was free, but she was working since she hadn’t worked Saturday night. With that option out the window, I grabbed my sketchbook and walked to the Public Garden. I hadn’t had time to just relax and sketch in months.
Unlike Caleb’s brother Jamie, I wasn’t a painter, but I loved drawing. I’d been sketching the world around me since I was a kid, and one of my favorite things to do since moving to Boston was to find an empty bench in the gardens and lose myself in a subject. Sometimes it was the gardens themselves, but mostly I’d find a person or people who captured my attention and I’d draw them. Sometimes it was a loved-up couple whose closeness fascinated me, or a young woman sitting by the pond lost in thought. I liked to be able to soak up whatever emotion I found in them and bleed it back out through my pencil.
There was a small kind of accomplishment I enjoyed in being able to successfully transfer that emotion to the page. Plus, it relaxed me. When I was sketching, I didn’t think about anything else.
Unfortunately, I just couldn’t find a subject I felt like drawing. After an hour of wandering around, starting sketches only to scrap them minutes later, I gave up and went home.
Back at my apartment, I tried to read several different books, I cleaned the place from top to bottom, I did some grocery shopping, I cleared out clothes and shoes from my closet that I hadn’t worn in a while to donate to Goodwill. Moreover, I searched the Internet looking for a lamp I had in mind for my latest project with a young divorcée who was using part of her settlement money to redesign her new apartment in Jamaica Plains.
Eventually I found the lamp.
I did not find peace of mind.
Which was probably why I shot off a message to Caleb before I could get control of the compulsion. I asked him if we could meet. Thankfully, before I could regret sending the message, Caleb responded with an address on Northern Avenue. The text was terse and he only gave me thirty minutes to get there. A cab could get me there in about ten, fifteen minutes depending on traffic, but I still had to throw something on and call a cab.
Even though I was the one who had requested the meet, I bristled at his demanding bossiness and texted him back that I would be there in forty-five minutes.
He didn’t reply, so I assumed that was okay.
Throwing on the skinny jeans I liked so much along with a slouchy, off-the-shoulder sweater, I had just enough time to fix my makeup and hair before my cabdriver rang to let me know he was outside. I had stupid butterflies in my belly as I hurried out of the apartment.
It was clear to me that Caleb was pissed at the idea of me seeing other men, and I was definitely not amenable to him seeing other women. I didn’t know what that meant for us, or if either of us really wanted to analyze it too much. Quite willing to bury my head in the sand and just keep enjoying my time with the brooding Scot, I could only hope that whatever Caleb was feeling didn’t spook him out of any kind of relationship with me.
The address he’d given me was a luxury apartment complex by the water. It seemed to be made up entirely of glass, all the lights from neighboring buildings and traffic bouncing off it in the dark.
When I stepped inside, there was a woman at reception and a security guy standing near a bank of elevators. The main lobby was huge, with two separate sitting areas on either side of the reception desk.
“Good evening. Can I help you?” The receptionist smiled at me.
My step faltered, wondering if Caleb had called down to let them know I’d be visiting him. I had to assume this was his new place and wondered just how much this was cutting into that nice new salary of his. “Um … hi. Ava Breevort visiting Mr. Scott in apartment 16A.”
“Of course. Mr. Scott let us know you were on your way.” She turn
ed and pointed to the elevators. “Go right on up. Floor sixteen.”
I nodded my thanks, smiled congenially at the security guy when he lifted his chin in greeting as I passed. The receptionist’s voice could be heard behind me saying, “Mr. Scott, it’s Angela at reception. Your guest is on her way up.”
Hmm. Swanky indeed.
The whole place smelled new and shiny, and if memory served me correctly, these apartments had only come on the market a little while ago. Stella had been interested in landing the account for the interior decoration, but they’d gone with a firm in New York. If the reception area was anything to go by, with its rich woods, touches of marble, and muted, modern pieces of furniture brought to life with pops of bright colors in the soft furnishings, our competition had done a good job. It was the kind of comfortable, modern aesthetic that had a commercial appeal.
Thinking about the interior of the apartment building took my mind off telling Caleb I wanted to be exclusive friends with benefits. For about thirty seconds.
The butterflies returned in force as the elevator drew to a smooth halt on the sixteenth floor. Ping went the doors, opening out onto a bright, expansive hallway with shiny white floor tiles and soft blue walls. My heels squeaked annoyingly on the floor as I strolled down the hall, and I was grateful to come to a halt in the middle of it at the sight of the dark blue door on my left. Two brass numbers and a letter told me I’d found Caleb’s apartment. That, and he’d left the door ajar for me.
I knocked and pushed it open, my eyes drinking in the space. To my left was the kitchen with an island. The cupboards were dark walnut with white-and-gray-marble countertops. The kitchen blended seamlessly against the walnut flooring that ran into the open-plan living space up ahead. From my position, frozen in the hall/ kitchen, I could see a large gray corner suite and coffee table. But what really grabbed my attention was the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up the back wall. One of the windows was actually a door that led out onto a balcony that sat above the water. You could see Boston Harbor across the way.
Very nice.
To my right was a closed door, and up ahead to the left was another closed door.
There was no sign of Caleb.
“Hello?” I called. “Caleb?”
Two seconds later the door up ahead to the left opened and Caleb sauntered out. I was vaguely aware that he had emerged from a room with a bed in it, but only vaguely aware because he was walking toward me wearing nothing but a worn pair of jeans and a scowl.
“Did you fuck him?” he asked, his voice harsh as he came toward me. I took a wary step back, hitting the front door and inadvertently causing it to shut behind me.
The fact that he’d so easily intimidated me pissed me off. With a scowl, I pushed off the door and marched around him, giving him a wide berth. I felt his glare on my back as I strode into the living room. The sofa was facing a large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall opposite the windows. On the wall adjacent was an open door that revealed another bedroom. The wall opposite that, the one next to what I was now assuming was the master bedroom, since Caleb had emerged from it, had fitted floating shelves. They mostly contained books. Another surprise.
Ignoring his seething anger, I looked out over the water, envious of the view, before coming to a stop at the bookshelves. The man was a reader. From what I could tell, he enjoyed crime novels, thrillers, classic and modern sci-fi.
“Nice place,” I finally said, turning toward him. He was standing in the middle of the room, still glaring at me. His greeting echoed in my head. Did you fuck him?
Why do you care?
I stifled a heavy sigh. “I didn’t sleep with Leo. We didn’t even go on a date. I called him just after you left to cancel. FYI, you’re officially a Neanderthal.”
The glare softened into a look of neutrality but not before I saw the flicker of something that revealed a truth that equal parts terrified and thrilled me.
I saw relief.
It was there in his eyes for just a second.
Moreover, I now knew Caleb well enough to know that he only ever slipped on that damn blank mask of his when he was determined to hide the depth of the emotions he was feeling. “I don’t want to sleep with other people. I’d like whatever this is to be exclusive.”
He didn’t say a word.
He didn’t have to.
One minute I was standing by his bookshelves; the next I was bent over the arm of his sofa, the breath knocked out of me as he fumbled for the zip on my jeans. As he yanked the jeans and underwear down my legs, cool air hitting me in all my vulnerable areas, I gasped, shocked by the deep, tugging wave of desire in my belly—I felt like I should have been upset instead of turned on.
“Caleb?” His name came out on a harsh breath that didn’t sound like me. My heart rate had shot off into the stratosphere and with it my breathing, my chest rising and falling in excited/ scared heaves.
I tried to straighten, but the force of his body against me kept me bent over, my fingers curling into the back of the sofa to keep me steady. The sound of his zipper lowering made me shudder in need, and then he gripped my hair in his fist to hold me, while his other hand caressed my ass.
His fingers trailed a teasing path down the curve of my bottom to between my legs, and my excitement escalated despite my misgivings.
“I’m clean.”
Understanding what he meant, I could only nod, confused, too confused to be thinking clearly.
A mere second later he pushed into me and I cried out at the swift invasion. But as he moved in me, an uneasiness triumphed over my lust. We’d never had sex without a condom, but we’d had sex like this before and I’d enjoyed it. Yet right then, not being able to see his face—being faceless to him—felt wrong. It felt like he was making a point to cover up his earlier jealousy.
It felt like he was telling me I was just a body.
And all the heat leaked out of me.
Tears pricked my eyes before I could stop them.
It shouldn’t have shocked me that Caleb sensed the change in me immediately, but it did. I suspected most guys would have been too blinded by their own pleasure-seeking to notice. Instead he was so attuned to me, he knew instantly the moment I stopped enjoying myself. He withdrew from me completely. He let go of my hair to grip my hips with both hands. “Ava?”
I shook my head, afraid if I spoke I’d start to cry.
“Shit,” he bit out. “Ava?”
When I continued to remain silent, he cursed again, and then I heard the sound of the zipper on his jeans. This was followed by him inexplicably removing my shoes and then my jeans and underwear from around my ankles.
I glanced down over my shoulder to protest, but the words were halted when he suddenly stood and swung me up into his arms. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his neck, but I couldn’t look at him. I felt his eyes on my face and I wondered if he could feel how fast my heart was beating. Wearing nothing but my sweater, I found myself carried into the large master bedroom, noting wearily that the floor-to-ceiling windows continued in here, as did the balcony.
“Caleb,” I whispered.
He laid me gently on the bed but didn’t give me space. At all. He settled over me, between my legs, his body braced above me by his hands at either side of my head. And he frowned down at me, his eyes studying me with an intensity that made me breathless.
“What just happened? Was it because I didn’t want tae wear a condom? You’re on the pill, right? I’ve seen you take it.”
Determined to be as honest as I could with him while still protecting myself, I attempted to keep the hurt out of my voice as I replied, “No. I mean, yes, I’m on the pill, but it’s not about the condom or lack thereof. It just … that felt a little too much like sex between strangers.”
His brows pulled together. “Explain.”
“I was never going to overanalyze the fact that you didn’t want me sleeping with Leo. Okay. You don’t like to share. Great. Got it. I don’t like to share eith
er—that’s why I called it off with Leo. But—” I sucked in a breath, forcing the tears away, the emotion, so he wouldn’t know how much he could toy with my feelings. “That didn’t feel like how it normally feels. It felt like you were proving a point. Like … I could be anybody. That I was just a body to use.”
Anger suffused his features. Caleb was Pissed with a capital P. I wanted to sink into the mattress to melt out of his sight range.
“No matter what is going on between us,” he bit out, “I would never treat you like some faceless whore.”
I flinched. “Then what was that out there? Why did it feel different?”
Caleb pushed up off me so that he was kneeling between my spread legs and scrubbed his hands over his beard, letting out a grunt of frustration.
“Caleb, I’m always honest with you.”
He glowered at me and didn’t respond for what felt like ages. Then finally … “I was jealous. You’re right. I just … I wanted tae wipe any thought of that arsehole out of your head. It wasn’t anything more than that.”
“It was. It was supposed to be punishment sex. For making you feel more than you want to.”
“Jesus Christ, do you just say everything you’re thinking, Ava?”
I couldn’t tell if he was mad at my honesty or in awe of it. I think maybe a bit of both. “You can feel possessive of someone without it having to mean anything serious,” I answered, attempting to reassure us both. “We have a great sexual connection. It makes sense that we’d be covetous of it.”
He seemed to process this for a second, and then he leaned over me again, bracing himself above me. His mouth hovered over mine and he said softly, “I’m sorry I made you feel like you were being used. You’re the last person I want tae hurt, wee yin.”
Warmth flooded me, soothing my earlier fears. “Wee yin?”
“Aye, wee yin. Wee one.”
I bit my lip to stop a cheesy smile from taking over my face. “I like that better than ‘babe.’ ”
He kissed me in answer, a soft, sweet, gentle kiss filled with a quiet yearning that made my heart catch and words tumble out of my mouth before I could stop them as he pulled back. “Make love to me.”