Which led her right back to that Snapchat photo. As if there wasn’t enough on her plate, she had to wonder if Gavin had seen that somehow. Or worse, if the guys on his crew had seen it. He hadn’t mentioned it, but he probably wouldn’t, since how would that come up in conversation?
Hey, have you seen that embarrassing picture your little brother took of me checking out your butt in the market and sent to his friends?
That would be awkward.
Cait went into her bedroom-slash-storage-room and sat on the edge of her bed. She just didn’t have the energy left at the moment to go downstairs and hang out with her mom. Overhearing Cait’s conversation with Carter might lead her mom to some introspection and she did not want to interfere with any emotional lightbulb moments she might have.
She pulled out her cell phone and called her sister, instead. It had been a while since they’d talked, and she missed having Michelle close.
“Hey, Cait. Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” It seemed like an odd way to answer the phone, as if she wouldn’t just call her sister to chat. “You busy?”
“Always, but I have a couple of minutes. How are Mom and Carter?”
Cait decided not to tell her she would know how they were if she ever called or messaged them. “They’re doing okay. Good days and bad. Christmas was tough, but we’re past that now.”
“I wish I could have come home for the holidays, but you know how it is.”
“Sure.” She didn’t know what it was likeback seatbe there for family that needed her, actually.
“Is Mom any better?”
Cait caught her up on the last few weeks—how they were starting to donate Duke’s things and Carter’s grades slowly coming back up and today’s pot roast. It felt good to talk to her sister about it—to share the emotional load with another family member.
“What do you want me to do, Cait? I’m in Texas, for chrissake.”
She actually recoiled from the phone in her hand for a second. “I’m not asking you to do anything.”
“You’re telling me all these problems, which I don’t even have time for, so what is it you expect me to do?”
Listen. “Nothing. I just needed somebody to talk to for a few minutes.”
“And now we both feel like crap, but there isn’t even anything I can do about it because I’m halfway across the country. How does that help?”
Michelle was right. It wasn’t helping anybody. Especially Cait, since she was not only aggravated with her mother and her brother, but now she could add her sister to the list. “I guess you’re right. Let’s talk about Noah instead. How’s he doing?”
Her sister might not have had time to hear about their mom and brother, but she had a good twenty minutes to spare talking about her son. Cait didn’t mind. She welcomed it, actually, since it seemed like Noah was the only member of the combined Tasker-Hill family who was totally happy at the moment.
And this was temporary. Her mom was going to get her feet under her and Cait would be able to move on with her life. And when that time came, she wanted to still be on good terms with her sister. Maybe Michelle wasn’t able to be there for her now, but if Cait pushed, she wouldn’t be there for her at all.
That had always been one of the biggest differences between them. When something was a problem, Cait rolled up her sleeves and faced it head-on. Michelle put it in a box and slid it under the bed to deal with later. Or maybe never.
“Give my love to Mom and Carter,” Michelle told her as they closed out the conversation.
“Sure. Tell Paul I said hi, and kiss Noah for me.”
After they disconnected, Cait lay back on her bed and stared up the ceiling. She needed to get out of the house. It was time—well past time, actually—for her to have some Cait time.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she pulled up Gavin’s name in her contact list and hit the button to send a text message.
Were you serious about letting me use your apartment?
Chapter Eight
“What if she goes through your drawers?”
Gavin snorted. “Then she’ll see my clothes.”
He had about an hour left before Cait showed up at his apartment, and he really didn’t need Grant filling his head with a bunch of stupid crap. Cait wasn’t going to rummage through his drawers and his cabinets. And if she did, she was going to get bored pretty quickly and find something else to do.
Most of his life was in his computer. His personal documents were in a fireproof safe in the closet because his mother had given it to him for his birthday and insisted he use it. Other than figuring out he liked boxer briefs, crew socks and cheese-flavored snacks, there wasn’t much to be gained from snooping in his apartment.
But he did have one concern about handing the place over to Cait, and it made him scrub the kitchen table a little harder than was necessary. “What if she has a guy over?”
Grant snorted. “Why would she bring a guy home to your place? That would be weird.”
“Because I told her to treat it like it’s her own place for the night. And maybe having sex with a guy is something she’d do in her own place. Don’t forget she’s been living with her mother and kid brother for a while.”
“Just tell her straight out,” Grant said. “It’s your apartment. Your rules.”
“There’s no way I can tell her that. ‘Hey, Cait, make yourself at home, but please don’t bring a guy back to my place to bang because I kinda want to bang you myself.’”
“You don’t kinda want to bang her. You really want to bang her.”
“I sure as shit ain’t telling her that.”
“Then it’s on you if you come home and find some strange guy’s skivvies under your bed.”
“Jesus, Cutter. What the hell is wrong with you? Who even says skivvies anymore?”
“My grandpa calls them skivvies.”
“Okay, when you’re the same age as your grandpa is now, you can call them skivvies, too. I think it’s because you’re from New Hampshire. You people are backward as shit.”
“Kiss my ass, flatlander.”
Gavin threw the wet sponge at him, but he ducked and it hit the wall. “Why are you even here?”
“I was bored.”
“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your date?”
“Okay, so when I say bored, what I really mean is that I was driving myself crazy thinking about tonight and I needed a distraction.”
Gavin grabbed a soda out of the fridge and offered it to Grant, who shook his head. He shrugged and popped the tab. “Why are you overthinking tonight? I’ve never seen you drive yourself crazy before a date.”
“It’s our first real date, I guess you could say. Like, I’m not her coffee buddy or a friend, but a guy she wants to see romantically, so I’m picking her up at her place and taking her out to dinner.”
“If she’s looking for romance, it might be—” Gavin cut off the your last date, too when he saw Grant’s expression. Damn, the guy was seriously into this Wren woman, but being romantic wasn’t his strong suit. “A good idea to get her flowers or something.”
“Like a dozen roses?”
That seemed excessive. “Probably not a dozen. Do you think she likes roses?”
Grant picked up the sponge and tossed it into the sink before leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms. “No. No, Wren wouldn’t like a dozen roses. Something small and delicate, maybe. Purple. She likes purple.”
“My mom has a friend who owns a flower shop. She could totally hook you up.” He sent a text to his mom asking for the name of the place and got the information back a couple of minutes later. After jotting it down on the back of an empty envelope, he handed it to Grant.
“Thanks.” He looked at his watch. “I should head there now, in case they’re busy or close early or what
ever. You have your key to my place, right?”
“Yeah. I might stop by my parents’ first, but I’ll be there before you get home.” He chuckled. “Do me a favor. Don’t forget I’m crashing at your place and bring your date back.”
“I think it’ll be a while before I have to worry about that. We’re taking it slow.”
Gavin snorted. “What’s that like?”
“Since your girl’s staying at your apartment tonight alone, while you’re sleeping on my couch, you tell me.”
They laughed together, and then Grant left. Gavin had never seen his friend like that. They both dated. They’d had some girlfriends that came close to being actual relationships. But he’d never seen Grant nervous about a girl before.
He was a little nervous himself, he thought as he did a last sweep of his apartment. The toilet was clean and the seat was down. Fresh towels. Fresh sheets, which he was trying like hell not to think about.
It wasn’t working, and he suspected it would be a lot worse when he was stretched out on Grant’s couch, imagining Cait sliding between his sheets and resting her head on his pillows. He’d really like to know what she wore to bed.
When the buzzer sounded, he almost jumped. But he got ahold of himself and hit the button to open the glass door downstairs. He was on the third floor—by choice because he couldn’t stand people above him—so he had a couple minutes before she knocked on his door.
“Hi,” he said, standing back to let her in.
“Hi.”
She was wearing black yoga pants with a long red sweatshirt over them, and her hair was up in a messy knot on top of her head. With no makeup on and an overnight bag slung over her shoulder, she looked like she was on her way to the gym.
And it turned him on. At this point, he wasn’t sure she had a look that wouldn’t turn him on. All she had to do was look at him.
“I feel weird about this,” she said, standing just far enough into his kitchen so he could close the door.
“You won’t once I’m gone. Think of it like a hotel room, only I won’t charge you for opening the fridge.”
She laughed and it seemed to ease her tension a little. “Nice hotel room, I must say.”
Gavin looked around the apartment, trying to guess what she might think of it. It was probably cleaner than she anticipated, since most women assumed bachelors lived like frat boys their first year away from their mommies. It was open-concept, which was a nice way of saying it was all one living space. They were in the kitchen, which had an island separating it from the dining area. He had a table with chairs there, and it had a double closet where he hung coats and kicked his shoes. That space was open to the living room, which had a small alcove for a desk, on which his computer sat. There were two doors in the back wall. One went to the bedroom and the other to the bathroom, which also had a door into the bedroom.
There were only windows down one wall in the living room—behind the couch—and two walls in the bedroom because it was the corner of the building, but they were big and let in a lot of natural light. He had light drapes, so they gave him privacy while letting the sun shine through. The sofa and recliner were brown leather, and the bedding was tan. He wasn’t much in the decorating department, but he also didn’t lose sleep over it.
It wasn’t big, by any means, but it was a fairly recent rehab of an old industrial building, so he was the first and only tenant in this unit so far.
“It’s really nice,” she said.
“Put your bag down and I’ll show you around.” When she did, he grinned and held out his hand. “So this is my apartment.”
Maybe it was cheesy and said for the easy laugh, but he liked her laugh and he wasn’t about to pass up any opportunity to hear it.
“There’s a bunch of stuff in the fridge. There’s a Keurig, but I’m pretty boring with the flavor choices. There’s just coffee flavor.”
“As it happens, I’m a fan of coffee-flavored coffee.”
“You’re in luck, then. I should probably be embarrassed by how many frozen pizzas are in the freezer, but you won’t starve. If you don’t like meals out of the microwave, I put the delivery menus on the counter.”
“Okay.” She laughed and put her hand on his upper arm. “I’m pretty sure I’ll survive twelve hours alone in your apartment.”
He knew she was right and he was being ridiculous. But he didn’t open his mouth to agree with her because he couldn’t focus on words while she was touching him. The heat of her hand burned through his T-shirt, and he wanted to shift sideways until her hand slid down far enough to cover his bare skin.
But he didn’t want to give the impression he was pulling away from her, so he stood still. Maybe it was wishful thinking on his part, but the touch seemed to linger and her fingertips trailed over the thin fabric to the bottom of his sleeve as she moved away.
Gavin had to concentrate on keeping his voice and body language relaxed as he led her toward the bedroom. “I put clean sheets on the bed, and the towels in the bathroom are fresh.”
He’d stepped across the threshold into his bedroom already before he realized Cait wasn’t with him. She’d stopped halfway across the living room.
“I figured I’d just sleep on the couch,” she said when he turned around. “I think it would be super strange to sleep in your bed.”
“Well, there’s something I’ve never heard before.”
That made her laugh again, and he wanted nothing more than to sit on his couch with her and say funny shit for the entire night.
“You know what I mean,” she said.
“I told you, think of it like a hotel room.”
He knew she’d relax once he was gone. If she felt the sexual tension crackling between them as strongly as he did, she knew the two of them being within falling distance of his bed at the same time could derail their plans.
Or her plans, anyway. His only plan for the night was to hang out at Grant’s and think about Cait sleeping in his bed. Maybe after she soaked in his tub, full of hot water and good-smelling bubbles.
And things might have gotten even more tense if she hadn’t walked over to the TV at that moment. It gave him a second to give the front of his jeans a quick adjustment, while trying to think unsexy things.
Then she bent over to look at the front of the TV—the sweatshirt riding up to show off her ass in that stretchy fabric—and he knew the only way he was going to cool off was to literally stick his head in the freezer. And even that wouldn’t do much for below the waist.
“Do you want me to show you how to work that?” he asked, hoping to distract himself with a task. Any task, even if it was explaining his remote control.
“Nope. It’s the same model my mom has. I’m just going to plug my iPad into the HDMI port and catch up on my Netflix queue.”
So much for tasks. He was going to ask what she had lined up to watch, but he really needed to get out of there. Promising her she could have alone time and then putting the moves on her when she took him up on his offer would be a douche move.
“You can always text me if you have any questions or can’t find something.” He’d already put his duffel bag in his Jeep, so he grabbed his coat out of the closet and slid it on. Then he retrieved his keys from the end of the counter. “There’s a spare key here so you can get back in if you decide to go out somewhere. The plastic card’s for the main door, then the key opens this one.”
“Got it.”
“I guess that’s it, then.”
Then she moved close, coming in for a hug, and Gavin braced himself. Just a hug. Her arms slid around him, just above his waist, and he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Breathing in the scent of her hair, he tightened his hold just for a few seconds.
Her hands were pressed against his coat, and he cursed himself for not anticipating the hug—for missing the opportunity to feel her embrace th
rough the thin fabric of his shirt instead of the bulky coat.
“Thank you for this,” she said, pulling back as he reluctantly let her go.
She was still close enough for him to kiss. He wouldn’t have to take but one step and her mouth could be his. But if he kissed her once, he was going to try to stay, so he gave her a smile. “No problem. Enjoy your night.”
Then he turned around and walked out the door before he—or she—could change his mind.
* * *
She should have asked him to stay. The words were simple. You don’t have to go. But she couldn’t bring herself to say them.
Gavin had been a perfect gentleman, although she’d been aware of the heat simmering between them. It would have been impossible to miss the way he got perfectly still when she touched his arm, or the way he was trying too hard to be casual when he was leading her toward his bedroom.
She wished she’d hugged him before he put his coat on, though. The bulky fabric had blocked the warmth of his body and the feel of his back under her palms. The temptation had been strong to slide her hands up under the jacket so only the T-shirt separated them from his skin, but she hadn’t worked up the nerve before she had to pull away or make it awkward.
Now that she was alone, though, in a silent apartment with zero people looking to her for help or support, she knew letting him go without exploring whatever was going on between them was the right thing to do.
Once enough time had passed so she knew he was on the road and not running back upstairs for something he’d forgotten, she went into his bedroom. She’d made up her mind she was going to crash on the couch, but as soon as she saw the king-size bed with its black wooden sleigh-bed-style headboard and footboard, she wavered. It was wide and covered in simple, crisp tan bedding with a few jumbo pillows.
He had told her to treat it like a hotel room, and it seemed like such a shame to let a bed like that go to waste.
Before she could dwell on what she’d rather be doing in that bed, and with whom, she went through the door into the bathroom. This, she thought, is where she would be spending most of the evening.
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