Chapter 4 #5
“Are you being serious right now?”
“Um, yeah. I am.”
I stare at him, and he doesn’t look away. He gives it right back, steady and sharp, until every nerve in my body feels strung too tight, like one wrong move could make it all snap.
“He told me some things too,” Caleb says, and that tightness twists even harder.
“What did he tell you?”
He smirks as he takes another swig of his beer. “Interesting things.”
My fists uncurl, and my fingers tap again. When Caleb stares at them, I shove them into my pockets, trying to keep my nerves at bay. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
“Tell me,” I demand.
He glances around as if considering it and then smirks. “Nah.”
I can’t help but take a step toward him. He’s driving me crazy—his scent, the way he looks. The way he sounds.
He has no idea what he’s doing to me.
What he’s done to me.
“Tell me, Caleb.”
He shifts on his feet, his cheeks darkening. “You gonna make me? Heard you like to be in control.”
Something inside of me snaps at that, and without warning, my body surges toward him, my hand against his throat, pushing him against the wall. I press against him, feeling the shape of him.
He feels just right.
So fucking perfect.
He has no idea the lack of control I feel when I’m around him.
“I do like it,” I say, my mouth against his ear, feeling him shudder against me.
A dangerous game, but one I want to play.
I shift even closer, the air between us charged. Every breath feels electric, every inch of space collapsing until there’s nothing left. I press my leg against the bulge in his pants, and he lets out a muffled moan.
The tension that’s been simmering between us finally breaks, and I stop fighting it. Whatever I’d tried to bury bursts to life, unstoppable.
It all goes up in flames.
“Oh fuck,” he gasps, and I can’t help but let out a dark laugh.
He has no fucking idea.
My fingers flex against his throat, and I feel his Adam’s apple bob against my palm. “Magnus has a big mouth and a nonexistent filter. Did he tell you I like to fuck men?”
“Yeah,” he says as his hands skim up my arms and grab onto my biceps.
The feel of him against me, even over my shirt, is too much to bear.
I fucking hate it. I fucking miss it.
“Do you like to fuck men, Caleb?”
He lets out a shaky exhale, his breathing slightly erratic.
I push against him harder, and he lets out a delicious whimper.
I shouldn’t ask. I shouldn’t know any of this. It will only make it harder to resist him.
“Or do you like to be fucked?”
He doesn’t answer, just writhes against me, setting me alight. I can’t do this. And yet, I don’t move. I stay, my words drifting across his lips, his pink cheeks, his fluttering lashes.
“Did he also tell you you’re not my type?” I say, trying to convince myself more than him.
“I’m everyone’s type, asshole,” he grits out.
I let out a huff, and with a willpower I wasn’t even aware existed, I let him go, pushing away from him. I don’t want to, but I fucking need to stop this.
“Not mine,” I lie.
As he stares at me in disbelief, I run my shaking hands through my hair and force myself to take measured breaths. It’s impossible to do when he’s sucking all the air from the room.
Not my type, indeed.
I pinch my nose as I will myself to calm down. “I’m going to ask Magnus to leave.”
I don’t want my friend to witness my downfall.
“No,” Caleb bites out.
My eyes flash up to his. “Why?”
He pushes away from the wall and squares his shoulders. “Apparently, he likes to be torn up during sex with big cocks. Sounds like fun.”
Jealousy and anger roar inside of me. Absolutely not.
“I thought you were straight,” I bite out.
“Apparently not as straight as I thought,” he replies as he adjusts his hard dick in his pants.
I can’t help but look down at it.
It’s just as perfect as him.
“Fine, but don’t have sex with him,” I insist, but Caleb has regained his sense of self and is stalking toward me. He looks fierce and a little flustered, like he’s trying too hard not to care. It’s unfair how good he looks doing it.
I take a step back, stumbling slightly. His hands land on me, steadying me.
“We’ll see,” Caleb says, and I let out a small growl.
But Caleb is already moving back toward the living room, adjusting himself once more before he disappears.
I can’t help but follow him, like a fucking dog. My eyes land on Magnus, who is sitting on the couch, fidgeting with his bracelet and looking unsure if he should be here or not.
He shouldn’t be here.
Not now.
“Sorry about that, Mag,” Caleb says, sitting down next to Magnus and nudging him softly. “Whit was feeling a little possessive.”
I glower at him. I wasn’t feeling possessive.
I was feeling overtaken by…something I can’t explain.
“We need to pack for the weekend,” I finally say, wanting Magnus to leave. I want him fucking gone. “You can’t stay long.”
“Oh, um, where are you going?” Magnus asks as Caleb picks up a controller for the Xbox.
“We are spending the weekend with his family,” I say. “And we need to leave soon.”
“Nah,” Caleb replies and turns on the Xbox and queues up a game. “We can leave in a few hours. Don’t want to get there too early.”
“You still need to pack,” I grit out, feeling slightly unhinged.
“It’ll take me two minutes to pack my shit,” he replies and then nudges Magnus, whose eyes are ping-ponging between me, Caleb, and the TV.
“Relax. We have time,” Caleb says, not looking at me, and then he nudges Magnus a little too hard. He hisses, and Caleb pats his head in apology. “Now, little dude, I’m going to kick your ass.”
Magnus’s eyebrows lower, and he squints at Caleb. “I’m fantastic at this game, I’ll have you know.”
“We’ll see,” Caleb says with a flirtatious smile.
I want to…I don’t know what. I should let them have their space. My glowering isn’t getting anyone anywhere. Especially not me.
It’s just making a headache pulse behind my eyes.
So, I turn on my heels and go to the bedroom, sinking onto the edge of the bed.
From here, I can hear them talking, laughing, and flirting.
And I just sit there on my bed, slightly broken, waiting for him to notice me again.