“I asked her and she said yes, so yeah, I’m sure.”
“I meant—”
“I know what you meant.” I finish the last mouthful of sandwich and shove the plate away across the coffee table.
“Caleb, I’m sorry.” Seb sounds genuinely remorseful. “I didn’t mean anything by the comment. It’s just that she’s not your usual type.”
“That’s why I like her.” I sigh. I can’t be annoyed at him. We’ve been friends for too long, and we’ve looked out for each other for years. “I know she’s a bit… unusual. But I like that. I don’t want another Felicity. I’m tired of women who are like rotten apples—all beautiful on the outside and bitter under the skin. Roxie doesn’t pretend to be who she isn’t, you know? I don’t have to look beneath the surface of her words to try to make out what she’s saying. It’s refreshing. I like her.”
Seb laughs. “Hey, you’ve convinced me. I look forward to talking to her more. Just… be careful, eh? We’ve been worried about you the last few months.”
It’s a rare moment of heartfelt honesty. As guys, we rarely talk about our feelings, but I know my friends were concerned when I broke up with Felicity. I took it hard, and I retreated into my shell for a while.
I don’t know what to say to this show of affection, though, so I opt for humor, like we always do. “What the fuck? You want to share a tub of cookie dough ice cream now?”
He chuckles. “Yeah, all right. Catch you later.”
“See ya.” I hang up and toss the phone onto the sofa.
I lay back and look up at the ceiling. I know what Seb was trying to say. I’m sure that beneath Roxie’s sassy image I’ve glimpsed a young woman who’s much more vulnerable than she makes out, but the truth is that I don’t know her at all. She could be the kind of girl who uses guys then dumps them when she’s bored with them. It’s obvious from the way she asked me back to her place without flinching that she’s had a few partners, and maybe she’s only interested in sex.
So why did she agree to go out with me today?
I remember the look on her face while I made love to her—the disbelief and the almost-wonder that lit her eyes. I’m convinced she’d thought that all guys treat women like objects. It’s possible if her parents were from a rough background that she’s never seen a loving relationship apart from at the movies.
Not that I’m taking it upon myself to change her view. I’m not excited by the thought of forever either, and I don’t think I’ve recovered enough from Felicity to desire a long-term partner yet.
But that doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun. There’s a middle ground between a one-night stand and putting your ring on a girl’s finger, and I don’t see any harm in walking that road for a while.
*
At just before six-thirty, I buzz Roxie’s apartment.
“It’s me,” I say when she answers.
“Come in,” she replies. I go up to her floor and along to her door, which opens as I approach.
I stop dead, a few feet from the door, and stare at her. She’s wearing only a bra and a pair of skimpy panties, and she beckons her finger, pressing herself up against the doorpost alluringly.
“Come here, big boy,” she murmurs, running her tongue along her top lip.
For a moment, I’m tempted. Harry won’t mind if I’m late—we all follow the rule that sex comes before everything except Hearktech.
But something’s not right. Her hair isn’t pinned up and spiky—she’s washed and brushed it so it’s shiny, and she’s attempted to flick the ends under like a bob. She’s also missing her black eye makeup and bright lipstick. She looks like a darker version of Felicity. It makes my skin prickle.
“Why aren’t you dressed?” I say without moving.
She pouts. “I thought you might want to indulge before we go.” But there’s a glimmer of panic in her eyes.
I stride past her and go through to her bedroom. Every piece of clothing she must own is laid in a pile on her bed.
“Caleb!” She runs to catch me up. “That’s so fucking rude.”
“Yeah, yeah. What’s up, Roxie?”
Her lips part, and then her shoulders sag. “I don’t have anything to wear.”
“Every woman has said that since the dawn of time. Of course you have things to wear. Wear what you wore last night.”
“Jesus, don’t you know anything about women? Colette and Gaby saw me last night.”
“And you care what they think?”
Her mouth opens and closes again. She does care. Holy shit.
“I know what kind of do this is going to be,” she says. “Everyone’s going to be in pantsuits or silky skirts and blouses. Nobody’s going to be wearing tight jeans and cropped tops or leather. I don’t fit, Caleb.”
“I’m not taking you because you fit.”
“So, what, you’re taking me so you can parade me like a freak show? Does it give you kudos to turn up with a bit of rough?”
Anger flares within me, and I go to yell at her not to be so fucking insulting. But then I see her eyes flare. She’s trying to provoke me. She thinks if we argue, I’ll walk out and she won’t have to go.
My anger vanishes, to be replaced by pity and a flicker of affection. “I’m taking you because I like you and I want you to be my date.” I move closer to her and bend my head so I can brush my lips against hers. “Yes, I want people to see us together, because you’re beautiful and feisty and fun to be with. You’ve brought me back to life, Roxie, as sure as if you’ve given me mouth to mouth. I want to be with you. There will be food and wine, and music. My friends will be there, and I want to share you with them. I want to dance with you, and then I want you to come back to my place and spend the night with me.”
I surprise myself—I hadn’t intended to ask her that, but as soon as the words are out, I realize it’s what I want.
She stares at me, bemused. “Spend the night with you?”
“Yes. I have a collection of guitars, including a Rickenbacker.”
“Holy shit, really?”
“Yes. I thought you might like to see them. And I thought we might have sex, too.”
Her look turns to amusement. “Oh you did, did you? Talk about taking liberties.”
“You don’t want sex?”
“Yes,” she murmurs, “yes, I do want to have sex with you.”
I kiss her. “Then get dressed, and we’ll go and have a great evening.”
Chapter Ten
Roxie
I come out of the bedroom after a few minutes wearing the only dress that I bought once for an interview with social services—it’s plain navy blue and reaches to my knees.
Caleb takes one look at it and scowls.
“What?” I snap. “This looks like something presentable that classy women wear to parties.” Even as the words leave my mouth, I realize what I’m saying. “Fuck,” I say, “I look like your ex.”
He doesn’t reply, but I can see by the look on his face that I’ve guessed correctly. “All right,” I grumble, and go back into the room. I don’t want to remind him of Felicity.
I stare at the jumble of clothes on my bed and chew my bottom lip. Screw it. I’m going to wear what I want to wear. I don’t have to worry about fitting in. It doesn’t matter what I wear—I won’t fit in anyway. So, I might as well feel comfortable in my clothes.
When I come out of the room ten minutes later, Caleb looks up from where he’s sitting reading something on his phone, and smiles.
“Better?” I say, dropping a hip, and posing. I’m wearing a toned-down version of my favorite outfit: skinny black jeans, a tight cerise sweater, and black boots. I’ve pinned up my hair, although I haven’t spiked it, and my lipstick matches my sweater.
“Much.” He rises and walks over to me, puts his hands on my hips, and pushes me back to the wall. He brushes his lips against mine. “Don’t want to wipe this off,” he murmurs, but even that light touch sends shivers skittering through me, and my nipples tighte
n in my bra.
“You sure you don’t want to stay and have some fun?” I look into his beautiful eyes. They crinkle at the edges as he smiles.
“Don’t tempt me. Come on.” He takes my hand and leads me toward the door.
Sighing, I grab my black jacket and purse, and we head out.
We walk down the stairs and exit the building. Caleb presses a button and a pair of lights flash a few cars down. I stop and stare. “Holy shit.”
He throws me a grin and opens the passenger door. “Pretty, isn’t she?”
She is a charcoal-gray Aston Martin DB11 with a twin turbocharged 5.2 liter V12 engine.
I put a hand on the clamshell bonnet and stroke it reverently. “Oh my God, Caleb, is it really yours?”
“It is. Picked her up a few weeks ago. Care for a ride?”
“If I don’t, I swear I’ll die.”
He laughs. “Come on.”
I slide into the leather passenger seat and take a few moments to look around at the interior while Caleb gets in the driver’s seat. He shuts his door and clips in his seat belt, then throws me a smile. “You like cars?”
“She’s not a car, she’s a fucking beauty queen. She’s amazing.”
His gaze lingers on my face, warm and approving. “Come on, let’s take her for a drive.”
I clip in my belt and he starts the engine, filling the air with a throaty hum. The car purrs as he pulls away, and I sit back and feel as if I’m being carried to our destination on a cloud.
“You had the Bang and Olufsen Beosound system upgrade,” I say with awe, running my fingers over the screen.
Caleb chuckles. “You certainly know your cars.”
“I love cars. They’re like guitars—they’re a thing of beauty.”
He nods. I can see he’s thrilled I understand his fascination.
“I feel like a Bond girl,” I tell him.
“Pussy Galore?”
“Ha!”
He laughs and puts a hand on mine. “Let’s take a quick detour on the highway and I’ll show you what she can do.”
So we slip out of the city, and Caleb puts his foot down and we fly through the gathering twilight. The car barely raises her voice and we’re doing a hundred miles per hour. I’d love to see more, but all too soon he’s slowing and turning, and I sigh as he heads back to the city.
“Just a taste,” he says.
“Mmm.” I nestle back into the leather, wondering if I’m dreaming. Hopefully, lots of people saw me getting into the car. “So, tell me a bit about the party tonight.”
“Well, Harry and Gaby got married in Florence a few months ago. They didn’t have any friends or family there, and decided to have a small party to celebrate when they got back.”
“Okay, cool. It’s at their apartment?”
“Yes. Not many people, maybe a hundred or so.”
“A hundred?” Jesus. How big is their apartment? If I had ten people in mine, it would feel crowded.
“Just close friends and family,” he says.
If I invited my close friends and family, I’d be lucky to make ten people. It reminds me again what a different life Caleb leads. He’s used to socializing, and he feels comfortable in all kinds of situations.
Well, I’m with a gorgeous guy, he’s driving me there in his Aston Martin, and then we’re going back to his place for some magnificent sex. And to see his Rickenbacker. I’m going to enjoy myself tonight, no matter what the party is like.
*
I’m prepared to hate every minute of the evening, but in the end, I have a great time. We spend a while mingling, a word that isn’t really in my vocabulary, but Caleb walks slowly through the apartment, holding my hand, and introducing me to his friends. And everyone’s lovely. Colette’s there with Sebastian, and she gives me a big hug, and I get to spend some time with Gaby, who’s sweet and obviously head-over-heels for Harrison.
There’s real champagne, and lots of exquisite food. I hide a smile as I think of what my brother would say about the teeny-tiny portions—the little round pancakes with a smidgen of cream cheese and a square of smoked salmon, baby quiches about an inch-and-a-half across, that kind of thing—but they’re full of flavor and because they’re so small you can try everything and still have room for more.
The apartment is huge, with magnificent views across the city, but oddly, I don’t feel as out of place as I thought I would. With Caleb by my side, hardly letting go of my hand, I feel relaxed and at home.
Halfway through the evening, Harrison taps a spoon to a glass to get everyone’s attention, then gives a short speech, pulling Gaby to his side while he tells his friends how much he loves this girl and how he’s sorry they married while they were away, but he had to snare her before she escaped. I feel an unusual lump in my throat as Gaby pressed her fingers to her mouth, laughing even while tears form in her eyes, and Harry kisses her, lingering for a while before lifting his head and smiling.
I look up at Caleb. He’s so handsome, and yet somehow earthy too, although maybe that’s because I can picture him naked. He looks like a sportsman dressed up to get an award, more at home in a tee than a shirt. His collar just covers the place where I gave him a hickey.
He’s smiling, too, but he looks wistful. Is he thinking about Felicity? I wonder how in love with her he was. Maybe he wanted to marry her—maybe he proposed, and she turned him down. He might never tell me what went on there.
Well, it’s none of my business. I don’t know what’s going to happen after this evening, so I have to make the most of tonight.
I lift onto my tiptoes and press my lips to his ear. “Dance with me,” I whisper, and slide my arms around his waist, hoping to distract him from his sad dreams.
Chapter Eleven
Caleb
I didn’t think I would, but I have to admit to feeling envy as I watch Harry wrap Gaby in his arms and kiss her. I feel puzzled by the fact that he felt the need to propose to her in Florence, and that they married only a few weeks later. Why the rush? What was it about Gaby that meant he simply couldn’t wait until he came home to tie the knot?
He loves her, obviously, but yet again I’m bemused by the emotion. I thought I loved Felicity, and it had passed through my head a few times that we might get married one day, because it’s what you do when you’ve been dating someone for a while. But I hadn’t felt the urge to hasten the process. And I don’t think I ever looked at her the way Harry’s now staring into Gaby’s eyes.
Roxie shifts beside me, and I glance down to find her green eyes watching me. I don’t miss the little skip my heart does. I feel something for this girl that I never felt for Felicity. But it’s not love—it can’t be. I’ve only been out with her once. So, what is it? I desired Felicity, and our sex life was good, if somewhat uninspired. But it felt different from the way I feel about Roxie.
Maybe it’s how she reacts to me that’s different. If her friends were there, Felicity could go a whole evening without casting a glance in my direction. But I feel Roxie’s eyes on me wherever I go. She looks at me as if I’m something special.
I like that.
“Dance with me,” she whispers in my ear, and I let her lead me to a quiet corner. Instead of taking a formal dance pose, she slides her arms around my waist and rests her cheek against my chest. Harry’s been playing some seventies disco music, the Jackson Five and Donna Summer, getting everyone dancing, but now it’s a slow track—Dr. Hook’s A Little Bit More. I smile at the lyrics, moving to the music with her, and I kiss her forehead. I feel surprisingly comfortable here, with my friends, and with Roxie in my arms.
“Mmm,” she murmurs, nuzzling my neck. “You smell good.”
“So do you.” She’s so tiny. I can remember her sitting astride me on the sofa, lowering on top of me, her lips parting with a sigh of pleasure as she began to move.
And that does it—my blood heats, and within seconds I have an erection.
She’s pressed against me, and she lifts her head now
and raises her eyes to mine.
“Sorry,” I tell her. “I was thinking about last night.” I can’t get the pictures out of my head now. Looking down at Roxie’s naked body as I slid inside her, hearing her moans, feeling the bite of her teeth in my neck. Holy fuck, just the thought turns me on.
Her lips curve up. “Me too.” She slides her hands into the back pockets of my jeans. “So… did you have any plans for tonight?”
I brush my lips against hers. “I’d like to have sex.”
She laughs. “That’s a given. I meant more specific details.”
That’s a given. What a fucking fantastic thing to say.
“Want to get going?” I ask her.
Her face flushes. “Can’t you wait, Mr. Chase? We’ll only be another hour or two, I’m sure.”
“I don’t think I can wait another five minutes.”
Our eyes meet, and I know then that she can read the desire in mine. “Okay,” she whispers with a sexy little shiver.
In the end, it takes us about fifteen minutes to leave, by the time we’ve said goodbye to everyone. But it’s not long before we’re in the car, heading for my apartment.
“I hope they don’t think we’re rude, leaving so soon,” Roxie says.
“They won’t care. They’re just thrilled I went at all, especially as I had a date.”
“You don’t socialize much?” she asks.
“Not since I broke up with Felicity. I’ve been a bit of a hermit.”
“Did you love her a lot?”
“I thought I did. Now, I don’t know. I think we just got caught up in the whirlwind of the relationship, you know?”
“I do.” She looks out of the window.
I glance at her. “Has there ever been anyone special for you?”
“Not really.”
“You don’t have to talk, but I’m not asking for the nuclear launch codes. I’m interested, that’s all. I’d like to know whether anyone’s ever won your heart.”
“Are you really interested in my heart?” she teases. “I thought it was a piece of my anatomy further south.”
“You change the subject as soon as it gets personal,” I tell her. “Did you know that?”
Like a Boss Box Set: Like a Boss Series Books 1-4 Page 23