by K. Ryan
My eyes widened in excitement. I hadn't actually been waiting that long to give this to him in the grand scheme of things, but it felt like I had. I literally couldn't wait any longer and swept my hand out towards the case.
"So, I was going through my mom's closet and..." I trailed off when Caleb's eyes widened the size of baseballs and his soda can froze in mid-air.
It was like he thought he was suddenly sitting next to one of those dinosaurs from Jurassic Park and if he didn't make any sudden movements, I wouldn't see him and therefore, wouldn't eat him. Wow. Melodramatic much, Caleb?
Instead of acknowledging his reaction, I just carried on like it wasn't really that big a deal, even though both of us were woefully aware it kind of was.
"Her birthday's in two weeks," I tried again and forced my voice to stay steady. "And I don't know, it's been almost 10 months. The stuff is just sitting there and it's not like she needs it anymore anyways."
Caleb swallowed tightly as he set the can back down on the coffee table and faced me again with somber blue eyes swimming with empathy.
"So anyways, I went through everything while you were gone and cleaned it all out."
He cleared his throat. "You're keeping some stuff too, right? I mean, more than just..." he gestured with his head towards the case on the table.
"Oh yeah," I smiled. "I found some pretty cool stuff I forgot she had like these gorgeous cocktail dresses she used to wear whenever her and my dad would go out. I'm definitely keeping those and her perfume too. Oh, and I found these kickass tan suede boots. I can't wait to wear those."
Caleb's lips curved up, relief filling his eyes, and he nodded, a little more at ease now that he could tell I probably wasn't going to break down crying anytime soon.
"That's great, Iz. I know how rough that is—we had to do the same thing with all my dad's stuff in our shed. It's not easy, but you gotta do it sometime. Part of livin' is packin' up the ones who checked out already, you know?"
"Yeah," I smiled softly and reached for the case. "I know. So, I did manage to find something pretty cool that I think you're really gonna like."
I held the case out to him, a rush of anticipation washing through me. My body practically buzzed with excitement and I couldn't wait for him to just open the thing already. He frowned back at me, like he couldn't piece together why I was giving him something that came from my mom's closet of all places, which, to be fair, was a little weird at first glance.
"Seriously, Caleb," I extended my arms out a little more to get him to take it. "Come on! Open it!"
His fingers gingerly took the case from me and after casting me yet another confused, cautious glance, he nimbly snapped open the clasps holding the case together. As he lifted it open, Caleb's eyes widened in disbelief and they just grew wider and wider the longer he stared at the case's contents.
"Holy shit," Caleb exhaled and lifted his eyes back up to me. "This is...this was just sittin' in her closet?"
"Yeah," I just shrugged. "It was on the top shelf all the way back against the wall. It had to be my grandpa's or something because there's no way that ever belonged to my dad."
He shook his head in disbelief as he slid the ancient-looking pistol out of the case and gripped the handle in his fist. There was some brown rust around where the metal met the handle and on the safety, so my mom obviously never sat around and cleaned it or even took very good care of it, but it was something.
"So, do you know what it is?" I asked sheepishly. I felt a little stupid now that I'd given him something like this and didn't even really know the official name of it.
Caleb shot me a wide grin and lifted the pistol up a little higher so I could see it. "It's a Luger. These babies were all over the place in World War Two. Definitely German. I mean, we'd have to get it checked out by someone who knows a little more about this than me, but they can tell the year and the make pretty easily from the markings so you'll know what it's worth."
I leaned forward a little. "It's pretty cool, isn't it?"
"Very cool, Iz," he nodded, that wide grin still plastered across his face. "Man, you know who woulda loved this? My dad...he would've went crazy playin' with this thing and figurin' it all out."
He snapped one of the pieces back and held it up to his eye level to line it up as he spoke.
"So that means you're gonna take it off my hands, right?"
Caleb tensed, almost instantly blanching at the suggestion and he shook his head, swiftly putting the pistol back in the case.
"I can't take this. You could probably get a lot of money for this thing. No way, Iz."
"Yeah, well, it doesn't feel right to sell it, so I think it should be with someone who can appreciate it and let's face it, that isn't me."
He chuckled, but he was still shaking his head. "This was your grandpa's. Your mom's. You should keep it."
Well, it looked like it was time to bring out the big guns.
I leaned into his shoulder, batting my eyelashes and everything. "So, maybe you can just hold on to it for me? Besides, I'm not sure I really feel comfortable having it in the house right now anyways."
Caleb eyed me warily and even though my motives were as about as transparent as plastic wrap, I knew he wasn't going to say no to me now either. I'd hoped I wouldn't have to play that card, but it worked just like I knew it would.
He already had the case flipped back open, casting me a glance with just a little bit of annoyance probably because he knew he'd just been played, but his lips were still curving up in that sexy, crooked grin I loved so much.
"Besides," I pressed on. Time to do my victory lap. "You can add it to your collection, you know? Put it in with all your other little treasures and see how it feels?"
He lifted an eyebrow at me. "My collection?"
"Yep."
Caleb shook his head, but this time, he was looking at me with nothing but warmth and something else that made my stomach flip-flop. He snapped the case shut and dragged a hand over the top.
"Well, I can't say I'll be bringing it on a run or strapping it to my holster anytime soon," he smiled at me softly and I couldn't stop myself from reaching out to let my fingers graze his tattooed forearm.
His eyes flitted shut for just a moment and when they flicked back open, they burned bright blue.
"But, Iz, I would be honored. Honestly, you don't have to do this, but I know I'm not gonna win this argument, so, I'm just gonna add it to my collection like you said. I promise I'll take care of it, okay?"
I smiled back at him, letting my fingers brush his bare skin one more time before pulling them back. "I know you will. And if anyone should have it, it should be you."
Just as Caleb opened his mouth to reply, an upstairs door creaked open and faint shuffling echoed all the way down the stairs until my dad appeared, rumpled and hungover, at the bottom of the staircase. My body might have been rooted to the couch, but Caleb jumped into action, ready to pounce at a moment's notice as he shifted his entire body to put himself between my dad and me.
My dad stared back at him like a deer caught in the headlights and Caleb didn't move, watching my dad's every movement and holding his ground beside me. A moment later, the standoff ended and my dad continued shuffling into the kitchen.
Even as I listened for the refrigerator door to open and close, I found myself inching closer and closer to Caleb until he swung an arm around my shoulders.
Always knowing what I needed. Always knowing what to give and how much.
I leaned into his shoulder, inhaling leather and musk, and squeezed my eyes shut. When I opened them again, my dad was standing at the bottom of the staircase again with a glass in his hand and openly gaping at us huddled on the couch together. At least he was smart enough to know better than to say anything, especially given the way Caleb repeatedly dropped everything to pick his sorry drunk ass up on a regular basis. When he disappeared back up the stairs, all the air finally rushed from my lungs in one fell swoop.
"You know," C
aleb murmured into my hair. "I hate to break it to ya, Iz, but I don't think your dad likes me very much. In fact, I'm pretty sure he hates me. No, he definitely hates me. And he definitely doesn't like me hangin' out here like this."
"Oh well," I burrowed myself a little deeper into his shoulder. "I like you hanging out here, so my dad can suck it."
He chuckled and I thought I felt his lips in my hair, but that was probably just wishful thinking on my part.
"I don't like you being here by yourself with him movin' around like this," he murmured quietly above me. "I'd say you could come back to the clubhouse with me, but things were already pretty much fallin' apart when I left. So, I think I'm just gonna crash here on the couch tonight instead."
He'd just stated it like it was already fact, already a done deal and set in stone with no room for argument or negotiation. Like spending the night on the couch here was no big deal when it was...everything.
"It's only fair, Iz," he went on. "You know after you all but tied my hands behind my back with that Luger. Compromise, Iz. Compromise."
"If you say so," I laughed into his shoulder, reveling in the way his strong arms wrapped all the way around me, pulling me in deeper. "Thanks, Caleb."
"Anytime, Iz. So, how 'bout that movie, huh? I feel like I've been waitin' forever for you to start the damn thing already."
All I could do was laugh, grab the remote, and hit play. With the thought of sleeping under the same roof as Caleb, who had somehow become so ingrained in the very fiber of my life, bouncing around in my head, that was about all I could focus on.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Accepted
Two Weeks Later
Isabelle
I stared at the clock, nervously tapping my pen against the desk and glanced out the office window again.
Nothing.
My eyes fell back to the pile of paperwork in front of me, but that was the least of my worries. Anytime now...the mail should be coming at any time, but still, no stupid mail truck. Didn't the postal service know I was sitting here, going crazy over their inability to be punctual ever?
To be fair, this had pretty much been my routine for the last two weeks around this time. As soon as 11:00 rolled around, my palms got sweaty and my whole body twitched in nervous anticipation. Sooner or later, that mail truck would have those letters and I wanted to throw up just thinking about it.
"You know," Skyler called out from her end of the office. "You keep tappin' that pen like that, you're gonna wear a hole in the desk."
I looked up to find her watching me with an amused grin and she raised an eyebrow as her dark eyes flicked to the clock over the door.
"Mail should be here soon," Skyler shrugged. "You could go drag Caleb outta bed while you're waiting. I don't know what I was thinkin' scheduling him this late. That boy thinks he can sleep the whole day away—what?"
Crap. She must've caught the not-so-discreet stink eye I shot her out of the corner of my eye.
"You have to do something while you wait for the mail to get here," she told me pointedly, barely biting back a grin. "Might as well be productive since that paperwork sure isn't gettin' done anytime soon. Besides, I'm sure he'd much rather get a wakeup call from you instead of me anyways."
My eyes lifted to the ceiling and held my hands up in defense. "Okay, okay, got it. I'll get back to work. Geez."
Skyler just shrugged a shoulder. "I still think you should go drag my son's ass outta bed. He'd appreciate wakin' up with you at the door, I'm sure."
"Wow," I shook my head. She was really on a roll now. "Why don't you just come out and say what you really mean, huh?"
"Oh honey," she laughed, her lips twitching with amusement. "You know what I mean. Everyone knows what I mean. If you two don't—"
The loud, rickety engine of the mail truck echoed down the parking lot, cutting Skyler off mid-sentence. We both stilled and stared at each other from across the office, then we shot off our seats at the same time in a mad dash for the door, meeting the long-suffering mail lady, Gina, in the lot.
"Hello there, Isabelle. Mrs. Sawyer. Sorry I'm a little late today," Gina called out to us as she hopped out of the truck with a few packages in her hands. She handed them over to Skyler as she spoke, "Here you go. Don't need a signature. Oh, and before I forget," she leaned across the truck through the window and pulled out a stack of envelopes, thrusting them out to us from behind her. "There you go. Hopefully there's something in there you'll like."
Gina waved goodbye and hopped back in the truck to get on her way, but I barely noticed. My entire focus rested solely on the stack of envelopes in my hand and my shaky fingers began sifting through them before I could stop myself. And when my fingers brushed across the VCU and UNC insignias resting on two large manila envelopes, I just about had a heart attack.
It was easy enough to just hit send on those applications a month ago because once they disappeared into the Cloud, the rest was out of my hands. But now, reality stared at me right in the face. If they'd judged me and deemed me unworthy, I didn't have a plan B; hell, I barely even had a plan A.
Suddenly, I just wanted to shove those letters into the deepest depths of my oversized purse and forget about them. My future was in those letters and that scared the ever-loving crap out of me.
With my fingers still trembling against my will, I shoved the rest of the mail to Skyler, not caring about the rest of it. Now, I just held those two manila envelopes in my hands. They didn't feel nearly as heavy as they looked. And now that they were finally in my grasp, all I wanted was my mom. And Caleb.
"Are you gonna open them, Isabelle? Or are you gonna wait 'til..." Skyler trailed off, her eyes drifting towards the clubhouse as she spoke.
I knew what she was asking, but I didn't know how to answer her.
Skyler jerked her head towards the parking lot. "Go."
"What?"
"You heard me," she laughed and gently pushed me towards the clubhouse. "Go. Take your break now and if you don't get back right away, I won't mind. Promise."
My feet were glued to the pavement and Skyler laughed again, nudging me on my way. It wasn't until I was already halfway in between the office and the clubhouse that I realized what Skyler already seemed to know: yes, I missed my mom and I wished she could be here with me when I finally did face what was in those letters. But even if my mom was still here, even if she could be right next to me when I ripped them open, I would have waited for Caleb anyways.
It just didn't feel right to open them without the person who'd encouraged me to apply in the first place. Without his support, I doubt I would've ever had the guts to do this on my own and he needed to be here when I got the news, whether it was good or otherwise.
As I stepped through the clubhouse's threshold, it was so quiet it was eerie. Bikers partied late and slept late, but this place was like a ghost town and it was already almost noon. Of course, Caleb was still asleep. That was no big surprise. I'm sure he'd sleep until three or four if he didn't have to be at work in an hour.
What I wasn't prepared for, though, was the greeting I received from the sole patron parked at the bar. Casey, the club's sergeant at arms, was perched on a stool with a beer bottle in one hand and a cigarette in the other. His crazy eyes lit up when they zeroed in on me and his lips spread into a wide grin.
"Hey there," Casey called out to me, lifting his beer bottle in greeting. "You lookin' for your boy?"
I shifted uncomfortably under the weight of Casey's insinuation. It wasn't a secret that just about everyone affiliated with the Horsemen and Sawyer Auto Repair thought Caleb and I were together, or, at the very least, hooking up. But being confronted with that idea and not having a buffer in between myself and the truth underneath it—handling that in addition to the two envelopes in my hands all in the span of 10 minutes was a little much.
"Uh," I answered finally, staring down at the envelopes in my hands and wishing I was back in the office where I had a safety net. And now, a panic
ked, abrupt thought—one I was kicking myself for not considering until now—gripped hold of my throat and squeezed tight.
"Caleb isn't with anyone in his dorm by any chance, is he?" I asked, wincing as the words fell from my lips.
Part of me almost couldn't bear to hear the answer. Granted, I couldn't remember the last time I'd had to witness him lead his flavor of the night back to his dorm, but if he had a girl in there with him right now, I just couldn't handle that. If I was being completely honest with myself, I'd never really been able to handle that.
The idea of seeing another girl in his bed when I had these letters in my hand, when I wanted to share this with him...luckily, Casey's voice yanked me out of that terrible reality only to push me into a different one.
"Well," he lifted an amused eyebrow at me. "Seein' as how you're standin' right here, I'd say your boy's in there all by his lonesome."
Momentarily stunned, it took me awhile to find the ability to speak again. This time, it was Casey gesturing towards the hallway to push me towards Caleb instead of Skyler.
"Go on then," he grinned. "Wake his ass up."
For lack of a better response, I just smiled tightly and hightailed it down the hallway, eager to get away from Casey with his crazed eyes that leered a little too closely at the skirt hugging my hips and the tiny bit of cleavage peeking out from the top of my shirt.
Yeah, time to get moving.
By the time I was standing in front of Caleb's door, my hands were trembling and I was feeling all itchy again, but I swallowed it down. With a deep breath, I knocked on the door, holding the letters in a vice-grip in my free hand.
Silence was all I could hear from the other end of the door and I just stood there, not sure if I should be laughing or freaking out right now. He was sleeping, so of course he wasn't able to just fling the door open and invite me in. So, I knocked again. And again. And again.
The door suddenly flew open to reveal Caleb, clad in only a pair of striped boxers with a cigarette dangling from his lips.