“This was a bad idea.”
“You’re fine.”
The ride started moving, causing me to yelp as we lifted off the ground. Cursing under my breath, I went back to gripping anything within distance of my grabby hands.
Caleb eased my hand from his thigh, holding it loosely on his lap. It caused me to shift my focus from the night sky around us to where we touched.
“I served two tours in Iraq,” he told me, staring off into the sky. His voice was calm. “The first time me and my buddies were proud to be representing our country, you know? We didn’t know what we were getting into. By the second tour, half of those guys were either dead, medically discharged, or so fucked up in the head that they weren’t mentally there.”
My body eased into the seat, no longer worried about the ride.
His eyes were distant, cloaking himself in his memories, his voice shifted deeper when he sunk into them. I wasn’t sure if he knew he was gripping my hand tighter than before, or that his body was suddenly tense.
With my free hand, I brushed his forearm. He seemed to snap out of it, looking down at me with hollow eyes.
“What happened?”
“It’s hard to talk about,” he whispered.
I nodded in understanding.
“Some guys come back and brag about everything that happened, but they were the ones who never saw the real action. They should be grateful. The things that happened were awful, Paisley. They can screw a guy up. It’s…it’s worse at night when you have time to think about it—remember it.”
“Is that why you don’t like the dark?”
Pressing his lips together, he nodded. “I used to have nightmares, post-traumatic stress issues, but they’ve gotten better with time.”
I wanted to comfort him but didn’t know how.
He blew out a breath, raking his hand through his hair. “Sorry. I don’t usually talk about it. Not great first date material.”
“You should talk about it.”
He rested his head back, watching me through the corners of his beautiful blue eyes. We stayed like that, focused on each other. The outside noise faded as I felt the cool breeze caress my cheeks.
His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, mine matching the pace. I didn’t want to push him for more, but I also didn’t want him hurting. We all had demons, but not all of us deserved to bare them.
“Look,” he said quietly, after a long moment.
We both looked forward taking in the scene around us. The wheel was lowering back down, giving us one last chance to see the layout of the fairgrounds from way up in the clouds. The lights from the other rides lit up the darkness, which made me smile at the display of flashing yellow, green, and pink glittering across Caleb’s face.
Fairs used to be my favorite part of summer, but I stopped going when I started college and began working two jobs. Tonight was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.
“Thanks for this, Caleb.”
“Anytime”
I swallowed.
“Paisley?”
I stared at him.
“Go out with me again.”
I laughed. “Shouldn’t you be asking that later?”
His hand was warm as it squeezed mine, the rough pads of his fingers jumpstarting my heart as they started moving in circular motions.
“Just say yes.”
I didn’t have to think about my answer this time.
“Yes.”
How You Know It Won’t Work:
Your doubt outweighs your belief
The little specks of dirt on my shoes became fascinating when Caleb and I stopped outside my front door after our amazing night. The car ride back to my apartment was quiet besides the soft music playing in the background.
Caleb realized I loved country music.
I learned that Caleb hated it.
We compromised and kept listening.
But now I was standing in front of him, Boots wrapped tightly in my arms. I wondered if he wanted to come in, or if he was going to kiss me.
“I had—”
“Thanks again for—”
We both stopped talking once the other started. I bit back a smile and shifted on my feet. He chuckled and flicked the stuffed cat in my arms.
“Go ahead,” he eased, hooking his thumbs into his pockets.
I blew out a breath. “Did you…” I cleared my throat, pointing behind me. “I think I have some juice to drink.”
Did I just offer a grown man juice? Oh, my God. Mental face palm.
Cringing at my stupidity, I picked at my purse strap. “I mean, I’ve got other stuff too. Water, milk, some hot chocolate mix. I’m not really into alcohol, but—”
“Got some orange juice?”
I stopped my blabbering. “Yeah.”
“I can go for some OJ.”
I nodded but didn’t move.
“Paisley?”
“Yes?”
He tipped his chin toward the door. “Are you going to let me in? Or are we going to stay out here the rest of the night? Mrs. Meyers may just join us unless you save me from her.”
The sad thing was, she just might. Mrs. Meyer’s lived down the hall with a tiny shiatzu named Whiskers. She was a cute little white-haired dog that loved to bark at everything that moved.
Squirrel ran past the window? Bark.
Mail man delivered bills? Bark.
Bird pooped on a windshield? Bark.
Whiskers was cute, but she was annoying. I tolerated her because she was all Mrs. Meyer’s had left. She didn’t have children, and no extended family ever visited. Caleb was the only person she interacted with besides me and the landlord when he came to do inspections.
“So…” He rested his hip against the wall, watching me with a tilted gaze. “How about that juice?”
I snapped out of my awkwardness and grabbed my keys. Anything could happen once I opened that door. My hands shook as I thought about all the things I wanted him to do.
Startled when his hand came down on mine, I snapped my attention to him.
“It’s just juice,” he promised lightly.
Just juice, I repeated silently.
Unlocking the door, I slid it open and let him go in first. Hesitantly following him in, I pressed my back into the door until it clicked.
Straightening my shoulders, I pushed off the door and toward the fridge. There was nothing to be nervous about, not with Caleb Winters. Iris would kill him if her ever hurt me or did something I didn’t want him to.
Filling two glasses, I walked over to where he examined my Ikea shelves. Was it sad to be proud that I managed to put them together myself? Being handy wasn’t usually a skill of mine. I had to give myself a pat on the back when I could.
Caleb stopped at the shelf by the TV stand, examining my wide array of movies on display. I organized them into different categories, action, books-to-movies, Disney, and romance.
Romance dominated the shelf by a long shot, but Disney was a close runner up. When I started my collection, it was primarily book adaptations. But half of them were disappointing, completely different than the written works. I’d lost interest in Hollywood attempting to do my favorite novels justice.
Suddenly all the Disney movies I had made me wish I had hidden them. I loved fairy tales, even if I knew they never came true. Like books, movies were an easy escape from reality.
Still, I knew Caleb wasn’t exactly a Disney princess guy. Yet, there was not a spec of judgement on his face when he read each title. He even pulled a few out to read the summaries on the back.
I passed him his drink, eyes grazing the colorful sleeves. “I’m a bit of a movie geek.”
He smiled. “I see that. It’s impressive. Iris used to make me watch some of these.” He gestured toward a few well-known movies. Mulan, Pocahontas, and Hercules were among them. “Can’t say I remember what they’re about though. Except Herc. I liked that one.”
My eyes grazed over the muscles of his arms, seemingly not surprised tha
t he liked the movie. He was kind of like Hercules, and not just physically. They both cared and wanted to help others.
“I image you would,” I answered, sipping my juice.
He pointed toward my action section. “I see you’re a DC girl?”
I’d gone through a Superman phase when I had hung out with Tyler years ago. After we stopped talking, I’d cut ties with anything related to the franchise. “I don’t have a preference over DC or Marvel like some people. But I do love Captain America.”
He pulled out my Deadpool case. “I saw this when it came out with Iris. Her taste in movies has changed drastically since we were kids. She used to force me into watching girly shit, but now she prefers the gory stuff. This was pretty good though.”
“Ryan Reynolds was a perfect fit for Wade,” I agreed, not knowing what else to say.
“I liked him in The Proposal.”
My brows shot up in surprise. “What?”
“What? It was a good movie. Comically so.”
It was a good movie, there was no arguing about it. I’d watched it for the first time with a few of my high school friends during a trip to Boston. It was the first movie I saw with Ryan Reynolds as the lead, and I was hooked on him and his movies ever since. It was a romantic comedy, which didn’t seem like Caleb’s kind of thing.
I nudged his shoulder teasingly. “You totally watched it for Sandra Bullock, didn’t you? Admit it.”
His grin was blinding. “Maybe it was for Betty White. That woman is pure gold in everything she’s in.”
“The Golden Girls?”
“Of course.”
“The Golden Palace?”
He smirked. “Don’t forget The Betty White Show. Prime shit.”
I shook my head, giggling. “You really do like Betty White.”
“Kristen, the ex if you remember, actually had me watch it with her,” he admitted. “But I still watch it if I see it while flipping channels.”
There was no stopping the twinge of jealousy over hearing her name. I had no right to get upset because she was in the past. It just proved that we all had ugly parts.
He put the movie back where he found it and made his way over to the next shelf. This one was full of all books that didn’t fit in my office, alphabetized by author and genre. He picked up a random book and snorted when he saw the cover. Naturally he took one with a half-naked man in army-issued camo pants. No shirt, just a very impressive six-pack on display.
“You know,” he mused, tugging out the dog tags from under his shirt, “if this kind of stuff gets you off, I do have a uniform.”
My eyes widened. Even though we talked a little more about how he got into the army after we got off the Ferris wheel, he tended to avoid the topic.
“I-I…”
He carefully put the book back. “Relax, Pais. I’m just messing with you. Unless you’re into that, then I’d happily wear the pants at all times.”
I squeaked out a laugh. “Whatever.”
He moved along, stopping to examine various knick-knacks that littered my shelves. Most of them were fake flowers in decorative vases, since Mashed Potato kept eating the real ones I tried keeping around. Plus, I had the unfortunate capability of killing a cactus. I was doing plants everywhere a favor.
When we made it to the bedroom, I tried stopping him but was too slow. He peeked his head in through the cracked door, a small smirk lifting his lips when he saw the state of disaster inside.
“I’m not usually that messy,” I explained quickly. I ducked under his arm and started picking up clothes scattered over, well, everything. Stuffing some of them into the drawers of my dresser, I glanced around to make sure that nothing embarrassing was laying around.
“You don’t need to clean,” he said from the doorway.
I played with a sweater that was hanging from my closet door. He stayed right where he was, not invading the space I considered private. He just watched me intently, waiting for the next move.
“I, uh, couldn’t figure out what to wear on our date.”
“It’s cute.”
My nose scrunched. “How?”
“You were nervous,” he answered casually. “It tells me that you wanted to impress me. For the record, you could wear a garbage bag and I’d still find you sexy as hell.”
I snorted unattractively. “Yeah, okay.”
He winked again. “But I thoroughly enjoyed what you chose. Those jeans…” He bit his lips as his eyes locked on how the material hugged my hips. “I really like those jeans.”
I picked invisible lint off them. “Thanks.”
“Look at me, Paisley.”
I obeyed, albeit hesitantly.
“You’re beautiful.”
“You’ve said that already tonight.”
“Well, I’ll keep saying it until you believe me,” he informed me simply. He uncrossed his ankles, pushing himself off the doorjamb so he stood straight. “I want you to know that you’re a bombshell. Those jeans? That shirt? Your curves kill me, Paisley. And I don’t even think you realize how many heads you turned tonight.”
What?
Although I usually avoided eye contact when I was in a public setting, I didn’t want to believe him. I didn’t look like the other girls at the fair. They were tiny, their thighs didn’t shake when they walked in their micro-shorts, and they glowed with self-confidence. My hair wasn’t perfectly styled, my body wasn’t toned, and my outfit wasn’t revealing.
“Don’t do that,” he scolded.
“Do what?”
“Put yourself down.”
How did he know I was doing that?
He gestured toward the space between his brows. “When you overthink, you get a cute little wrinkle between your eyebrows.”
I stared at the tips of my boots. “Oh.”
“Can I come in?”
My eyes snapped to his. “Uh…”
“I’ll keep my hands in my pockets if it makes you feel better,” he bargained.
I sighed. “You don’t have to do that.”
It felt pathetic that I was this nervous around someone I knew I could trust. My lack of experience weighed more heavily than my sense of safety.
Blowing out a breath, I picked up a random shirt from the bed. “I don’t want you thinking I’m some innocent little girl who’s afraid of having boys in her room. I’m not like that.”
He stepped into my room, keeping at least three feet between us. “I didn’t think that, although it makes me twitchy wondering how many boys have been in your room.”
Oh, geez.
He didn’t even give me a chance to say anything before a cocky grin appeared on his face. “I’m not worried about that, though. Want to know why?”
I held my breath and gave him an uncertain expression.
He took another step closer. “Because I know I’m the first man to step inside these four walls.”
I swallowed hard, staying silent.
His eyes caught something from the corner of his eyes. “Now these are fucking sexy.”
Reaching for something behind me, he picked up a pair of my kitten-clad boy short undies, dangling them from his finger in front of my face.
Quickly snatching them out of his annoying pinchers, I turned to shove them back into my dresser drawer. Keeping my back to him, I drew in a deep breath, knowing he was watching, waiting, for what I did next.
I gathered enough courage to face him, straightening my shoulders. “Just forget you saw those.”
“I wasn’t kidding. They’re sexy.”
“They had kittens on them,” I deadpanned. Not just kittens, but rainbow-colored ones. There couldn’t be anything less sexy than that.
Except my unicorn pair.
Damn glad he didn’t see those.
He reached out and brushed his knuckles down my right arm. “They’re you. And you, Paisley, are hot.”
I groaned. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I just speak the truth.”
We fell t
o silence. The only sound was our soft breaths breathing in and out rhythmically. I nudged the carpet with my boot, wondering what to do now. He didn’t seem to offer up any suggestions. He just watched me squirm instead.
Mashed Potato came strolling in, scratching up against Caleb’s legs. He bent down and picked her up, and she burrowed into his neck happily.
“She likes you.” My cat had better game than I did.
He scratched her head, flashing a cocky smirk. “What’s not to like?”
I playfully shoved his shoulder, stepping around his bulky body and headed into the living room. Picking up my drink from the counter, I brought it over to the couch and curled my feet up under myself. My eyes casually tracked Caleb as he rounded the other side of the couch, Tater still tucked against his chest.
He tipped his head toward the flat screen. “Want to put something on?”
I blinked. “You want to watch TV?”
He shrugged. “Unless you want me to go. I still have juice to drink. Would hate to waste it after all the effort you put into pouring it for me.”
I fought off a smile. It was after ten, but I didn’t want him to leave yet.
Searching for the remote in the mass of throw blankets was tedious. Once I finally found my treasure, I flipped on the TV and loaded Netflix.
There was a Netflix and chill joke lingering in the front of my brain, but neither of us could bring ourselves to speak.
Caleb sat down in the middle of the couch, placing Mashed Potato at the very end. The cat curled into a ball and promptly fell asleep. Caleb’s legs were spread out, invading my personal bubble. Our knees were practically touching. A breeze wouldn’t be able to pass through the teeny gap.
My free hand fidgeted on top of my thigh, while my other gripped the remote. I yearned to touch his hand, hold it, weave our fingers together like he’d done earlier at the fair. But I didn’t have the nerve to make the first move, so I remained still.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, fussing over Tater when she climbed back onto his lap.
My mouth dried. “Nothing? Why?”
His lips wavered. “I meant what are you thinking about watching? Movie? Show? I’m up for anything.”
Heat flushed my cheeks.
Now he knew I was definitely thinking about him. I wouldn’t be able to deny it because I was sure my pink cheeks gave everything away.
Way To My Heart Page 11