I halted in the upstairs doorway, and cringed at the idea of him seeing the mess of the apartment I’ve been so proud of. He’d never visited because of Landon, and now he’d be seeing it a total wreck. It was mortifying with a capital mort. I braced my hands on each side of the doorframe, but Caleb was a little taller than me and easily saw over my head.
“Oh, Charles…”
“I did it myself,” I said defensively. “It’s not like we brawled.”
“Not this time?”
I pressed my lips together even as potential responses filled my ammo box of defensive retorts.
Caleb sighed, deep in his chest, and stepped around me to scrutinize everything. With his hands on his hips and tucked in shirt, his light brown and silver hair combed back behind his ears, he looked like a disapproving landlord. Or my super preppy older brother who’d gone to law school while I’d fucked my way across Europe before retiring to Staten Island to become a broke ass failure dancer of a hipster.
I wrinkled my nose. No Caleb as older brother analogies. Gross.
“Do you want me to not ask, Charles?”
Shrugging, I shut the door and locked each lock, including the deadbolt. “Honestly, boo? There’s not much of a story. I came home unexpectedly, found out he was cheating on me and had a fucking meltdown. A meltdown that led to me throwing his shit out the window and mindlessly destroying some of my own.” I turned, leaning against the door, and flashing a manic grin. “Classic Charles.”
Caleb nodded, but he’d gone back to scrutinizing me instead of making fun of my theatrics. Not that Caleb ever made fun of me. He was one of the few people, maybe one of the only people, who didn’t dismiss my highs and lows, or my frequent overreactive emotional responses, as “drama”.
“What happened to your hands?”
“Hazzard of smashing stuff?”
His shoulders relaxed, and he went from platonically eyeballing my exposed skin to once again surveying my apartment. “Well,” he said with a sigh. “Why don’t you go shower, and I’ll start cleaning?”
“Caleb—”
“Or, I could hire a cleaning crew while we go out for lunch? Oli says there’s an amazing seafood restaurant in Totten—"
“No.” I put up my hands, waving them in front of me. “No crews. No outside.”
“Then cleaning and delivered pizza?” Caleb nodded towards the bathroom. “You shower.”
“Does that mean I smell bad?”
“Unfortunately, sweetheart, yes.”
It was the least flattering thing to be told, probably ever, but his smile was so sweet and so… Caleb that warmth filled me. When everything was terrible, I could always count on him to be my rock. Sometimes it made me wonder what he got out of our friendship. He was always rescuing me, and I was just the person who forced him to attend boozy brunches and recommended fun new sex toys for he and Oli to try.
“Oli’s lucky.” It was out of my mouth before I could stop it. His smile turned a little apprehensive, and I forced an awkward laugh. “I’m just saying… You’re so fucking good, Caleb. The actual best person I know. Not because you’re reliable, but because you genuinely fucking care about people and expect nothing in return, and that’s so rare. You’re rare.”
Awkwardness piled on top of his apprehension. “Ah, well, that is…”
“I used to have these fucked up fantasies about you telling me you were in love with me, and I’d leave Landon for you.” Actual horror was blossoming over Caleb’s face, and I started waving my hands as word vomit poured out of my gullet. “No, no, no, this was before Oli. I would never—I know, uh, I heard you guys are engaged now. I would never… secretly hope for anything bad to happen. I’m just—I was just trying to say, that… um. I wish I’d had someone like you instead of someone like Landon.”
“Sweetheart, Landon is actual trash. If I was the sort to hire hitmen, or to know how to hire hitmen, I’d have had him killed the first time you came to my house with bruises.”
I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. How had I ever thought I was fooling him? What an idiot.
“I’m gonna go shower.”
“I’ll order pizza,” he said. “Favorite place?”
“Brothe—” I cringed, remembering that man all over again. “Brothers. You can have it delivered with UberEats.”
“On it.”
I backed away, watching him furrow his brow at his phone. “Caleb?” He looked up. “Congratulations on your engagement. You better fucking make me your best man.”
Caleb’s smile was wide and beautiful and so full of relief that I wanted to hug him all over again. Instead, I scurried to the bathroom and stood under the too-cold-for-comfort water so the grime and sweat from two days of drinking and sleeping in a hot bedroom could drain away. I hoped my depression and self-loathing would go with it, but no go. As soon as I was alone, my thoughts flew back to Landon. Then they rewound to the past few years of our lives together.
How had I ever been so stupid? So desperate? I’d known he was cheating on me. My friends had warned me that they suspected him of being unfaithful while I was on the cruise. So, why was I so shocked? Why hadn’t I left him before? Why hadn’t I mentally prepared?
There was a small ugly part of me that wondered whether everyone was right about me. Did I live for drama, and that was why I’d stayed around? Had I found something exciting in the game of gotcha I’d been trying to play with Landon for years? The possibility made me sick, especially since everything else about our relationship had soured years ago.
How could I have been enjoying a game when I’d been too miserable to get anything else out of being together? The only reason as to why I’d stayed was that… I hadn’t known how to leave him until he’d given me no choice. Somewhere along the line, I’d conditioned myself into thinking our combative relationship was normal. Or like there was something romantic about wild fights followed by intense passion, as if we were in an Eminem video.
I stepped foot out of the shower and wrapped myself in my favorite black and pink sugar-skull robe. I faced the mirror, preparing to cringe at my likely haggard face, but was instead hit with the memory of me on the sink and Luis’ muscular body between my thighs.
The thought of him sexy and strong and propositioning me with pity and guilt in his eyes was enough to turn me on and make me want to break shit at the same time. The worst part was that I’d almost gone along with his little proposition. I’d pictured it so clearly—him fucking me until I saw stars instead of Landon’s awful indifferent face—even before Luis had made his offer to let me use him.
Use him.
A shudder went through me. I told myself it was bone-chilling hatred for a man arrogant enough to try to fuck me after nearly fucking my boy—ex-boyfriend, and not another supersonic burst of lust. I could not be basic enough to regret that pathetic of a hookup. Pity sex was not, and would never be, something I stooped to. Especially not with that asshole.
Skipping an up-and-close-and-personal with my reflection, I walked out to the kitchen with water still dripping from my legs and hair. On autopilot, I popped the cork on a bottle of wine, and poured it in a glass for Caleb while sticking with a chipped I Can’t Adult Today mug for myself.
He’d already cleared the living room and dance space of debris, and was in the process of using a microfiber rag to wipe down my bookshelf.
“Caleb, dusting isn’t the issue.”
“It should be. This bookshelf is outrageous.”
Snorting out a laugh, I handed him his wine and flopped down on the purple velvet chaise lounge in the living room. He sat on a bright yellow arm chair, crossed his legs at the knee, and watched me over the rim of his glass.
“Are you waiting for me to tell you what happened in detail?”
“Yes,” he said. “But I won’t push if you don’t want to talk about it. But I’ll say this—if you admit he’s put his hands on you again, I’m going to insist you go to the police.”
“Caleb
…”
“No, Charles, it’s wrong. The fact that I haven’t said it before now—” Caleb shook his head, eyes closing briefly. “He’s an animal.”
“Caleb, it’s not like he beats me—”
“He hits you, and then you defend yourself, and you fight.” Caleb’s voice rose again, sharper this time. “How would you respond if it were Meredith and a boyfriend? Or Stephanie?”
“I’d kill the guy,” I said without pause. “But it’s—”
“No, it’s not different, Charles!” Caleb put his wine glass down on a side table and sat on the edge of the chair. “Darling, abuse is abuse. That you’re two men doesn’t make it any less abusive. That you two tend to fuck after you fight doesn’t make it any less abusive. It’s not kink or rough sex. It’s him hitting you out of anger and you defending yourself. So, if he comes around here again, if he threatens you or tries to intimidate you, you need to go to the police. You should also consider a restraining—”
“Stop. Just… stop.”
My heart had begun to thrum in my chest as fear washed over me, a cold wave that lapped at my feet even after the initial shock retreated. The police? Fucking Christ. Landon would— I didn’t want to think about what Landon would do if I ever called the cops on him, which meant Caleb was right.
“I should have left him a long time ago,” I said finally. “But I was caught up in this fucked up… viewpoint that I had to make it all worth it. I had to stick it out because if I didn’t, I’d gone through all the bullshit for no reason. I’d wasted the good years of my life… for nothing.”
“The good years?”
I laughed dryly. “Before I met any of you, I was a fucking mess. More of a mess. Despite my relationship with Landon, the last couple of years have been the best since I was eighteen or nineteen.”
“In what way? You never talk about your past except to call yourself a failed dancer.”
“Because failed dancer was my primary identity,” I said dryly. “When I was younger, I had big dreams about being a famous dancer. In my mind, going to LaGuardia High School and getting into Julliard had proved that my success was fucking inevitable because I was talented and hot and everyone said I had the ‘it’ factor or whatever.” Shaking my head, I looked into the depths of my mug and saw a random piece of lint floating in it. Nice. “I remember when I got into Julliard… God, I thought it meant I was guaranteed to be a professional dancer. Seven percent of applicants get into the dance program there, and I was one of them.”
Caleb nodded, sympathy pouring out of him as he waited for me to explain how those dreams had stayed dreams. For most people, accepting the fact that your big dreams are unattainable is a part of life. It’s a part of growing up. For me? It had crushed my soul. Realizing I’d have to endure a lifetime of mediocrity and unfulfilled potential had made my life seem… not worth living at all.
“I’d paid for school with financial aid and inheritance money from my grandparents. Well, the inheritance ran out faster than I was ready for because no one had ever told me how to manage money, and I realized I’d squandered like over a hundred-grand trying to become something that had never been fucking inevitable. So instead of trying to be a famous dancer, I quit and worked odd jobs and drank myself to sleep every night until I met Landon.”
Caleb’s shocked face drew a tiny smile out of me. I drank my lint dusted wine.
“Yeah, he was a friend of a friend who was letting me rent her couch. Landon suggested we get a place together since he also needed a roommate but had no credit to get an apartment in his name, and the rest is history.”
“History?” Caleb asked scathingly. “You mean how he gas lit you into isolating yourself then convinced you to never get another job in entertainment? How he convinced you that you were pathetically holding onto a stupid dream, and how he made fun of the Carnival offer—”
“Caleb, I get it. I was there.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, exhaling slowly. “So, I’ll ask outright. What finally caused you to throw him out?”
“I told you—I walked in and found him begging to be fucked by some guy. On my bed.”
Caleb’s jaw dropped, and I recounted every detail of what had transpired two days ago. Well, every detail that I could remember. There were parts that were blurry—especially after I’d started throwing shit out the window—but I painted a vivid picture complete with wild hand gestures and reenactments. By the time I was done, and had collapsed onto the chaise lounge again, I felt tired all over again. I’d been going for funny, but… no. I wasn’t ready to look back on this and laugh just yet. It felt too much like I was the thing that needed laughing at. I was the joke.
“Who was the guy?” Caleb asked, seemingly bewildered. “A friend of his?”
“No. Fucking. Clue.” I stood, my robe sliding down my shoulder as I strode to the kitchen to refill my mug. Caleb didn’t follow, knowing my voice would reach across the apartment. “He was… just this guy. This tattooed, jacked up, super fucking hot guy named Luis. I’m assuming he lives nearby somewhere because he claimed he didn’t know I existed and had never seen me around since he moved in.”
“Were they dating?” Caleb asked once I’d returned to the living room with my mug and the bottle. “Was he also—”
“No, he wasn’t upset,” I said darkly, flopping down. “Well, he wasn’t upset the way I was upset. He was distressed that… that he’d caused me to be upset.”
Caleb blinked. “What?”
“Ugh. Caleb. He was all guilty looking and sad eyed and fucking tended to my wounds after Landon left. And I sat there and cried like an idiot while the guy who’d just been making out with my boyfriend bandaged me. It’s pathetic.”
“It’s not pathetic,” Caleb protested. “He doesn’t sound terrible at least. It’s not like he knew Landon had a boyfriend.”
“Oh, fuck that. He offered to let me ride his dick for a little revenge sex. Not exactly a noble gentleman.”
Caleb cradled the mug between his long fingers, weighing responses. Judging from the way his face flushed, I was going to guess they were responses relating to sexual relations.
“Perhaps you should at least consider rebound dating?”
“Babe. No. There is no rebound good enough to elevate me from the funk of that relationship.”
“Well, no, but… maybe a distraction could help?” Caleb spread his hands, smiling a little hopelessly. “When David and I ended things, I fixated on him. Our relationship. Then all the things that were wrong with me. It wasn’t until Oli came along did I stop constantly thinking about the past.”
“Right, but Luis is not Oli.”
“I didn’t mean him.”
Ah, right. Funny that my thoughts had automatically shifted back to Luis and his tattoos and thick biceps and thicker cock. The fact that my attraction tended to run hottest for men who were bad for me had to be a symptom of something terrible. The same terrible thing that had prevented me from ever seriously pursuing my past feelings for Caleb. Instead of making a move back when he’d been single, I’d stayed with Landon.
“Just consider leaving the apartment,” he said. “Maybe not today or even for the rest of this week, but you can’t hide forever, sweetheart.”
“Wanna bet? That shitty job helped me save a nice little nest egg. I could probably hide in here for months.”
“I’m sure you could, but…” Caleb tilted his head, watching me with so much worry that I felt guilty for causing him stress. “I know you, Charles. Being around people makes you happy. The longer you isolate yourself, the more you’ll ruminate about what happened, and it will be harder to pull yourself out of this place.”
“Ugh.”
“Start small,” he suggested. “Tomorrow, maybe go to the store? The next day, go to get a new phone.”
“At that rate, I won’t be rebound dating until Halloween,” I joked.
“Maybe not, and that’s okay. What’s not okay is you blaming yourself for that bastard.” C
aleb practically spat the word, his handsome face twisting whenever he referenced Landon. “And hiding your light from the world because you’re convinced you brought this situation on yourself.”
“Didn’t I?” I asked, laughing humorlessly. “Didn’t I stay even after all my suspicions? After we started fighting? After everything? Didn’t I fucking defend him and argue with you and Meredith whenever you dared to insult him?”
“Yes, you did those things, but that’s because you kept fighting for a relationship that you thought you had to salvage.” Caleb moved from the arm chair to sit beside me on the velvet lounge. “You and Landon were nothing like me and David, but I understand that instinct so specifically. I understand how you can twist yourself into a pretzel trying to tell yourself to force things to justify all the tears and the fighting and the wasted time.”
His voice wobbled, and I pulled him into a hug. He squeezed me, and I closed my eyes, relishing in his nearness. In not being alone in this apartment anymore.
“It’s not supposed to be like that when you love someone,” Caleb went on, voice hushed. “There should be no doubt, no question, that your person is the person for you. The one who makes you happiest and who makes you feel most wanted. Who knows what you need even when you yourself aren’t sure. The one who, despite ups and downs, will always have your back.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever have that, Caleb. I’m too fucking jaded. Too wary. I feel like Landon ruined me for everyone.”
Caleb shook his head, rubbing my back as tears welled in my eyes again. “It’s not true. He’s just a dark cloud that’s been hovering and hiding your light for far too long.”
“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe I’ll just die alone with my trunk of sex toys.”
Caleb released a startled laugh, and I pulled away, laughing too. I lifted the wine bottle, affected a big smile, and tried not to think about the fact that I had not been joking at all.
North Shore ch 4
Chapter Four
North Shore Page 3