Chapter Seven #2
A careful smile plays along Caleb’s lips before his eyes leave mine as he turns to Dad. “I promised I’d set up a quote for them, but they want five.” He smiles broadly as he comes closer, his familiar scent invading the room. He eyes me carefully again, before his gaze flickers back to Dad.
“Five? Fucking five? What the hell did you do, man?”
Caleb shrugs. “Nothing. Just flashed my pearly whites and told them how fucking good you are. And…” Caleb eyes me again, warmth pooling in his eyes.
“And?”
“It didn’t hurt that we now have a fucking professional-looking website. They were pretty impressed with our online portfolio. Someone did a damn fine job.” His voice dips into a low hum, and I shift on the stool.
I look down at my hands. His praise feels good, too good, and I know I’m getting flustered.
“Oh, yeah?” Dad looks between Caleb and me, then wraps his arm around my shoulder and ruffles my hair. “Good job, kid. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I know I’m great at what I do, but hearing it from Dad means everything to me.
It does coming from Caleb, too, but I don’t quite know how to feel about the effect his praise has on me.
On my body. I feel hot all over, like I’m coming down with something or spent too much time in the sun.
“So, are we still on for tomorrow?” Caleb stares directly at me.
I was hoping he’d forgotten, or that it was just something he offered to be nice, but I ought to know Caleb better than that.
I feel Dad’s eyes on me, and suddenly it’s like there’s not enough air in the room.
“If tomorrow’s no good, we can do it some other time,” Caleb adds, and there’s a rare uncertainty in his voice.
“What’s tomorrow?” Dad asks. I can’t seem to find my voice, but luckily Caleb does.
“I was gonna take Kayden down to the garden center. You know, Kelly’s place.
They’re having a sale, and Kayden sure could use some furniture for his balcony.
You know, a table and some chairs and stuff.
Maybe some pots too for some flowers or whatever.
Some of those outdoor lights. LED.” Caleb’s rambling, like full-on rambling, and he’s getting a little flustered, too.
Maybe he isn’t as unaffected after all. Perhaps it isn’t just me who felt something shifting between us the other night.
Maybe he felt it too, and that was why he left so abruptly.
Just when I’m about to make up some bullshit excuse, Dad says, “That’s a great idea.
You can take our company van. Kelly has some great stuff.
If you see some of those cerulean ceramic pots that your mom has in the front yard, then grab some, will you?
I think the frost this winter left some of them a little cracked. ”
I nod slowly, while Caleb snorts, “Cerulean. What the hell, Sal? Are you taking an art class down at the community center?”
“Fuck you! That’s the damn color!” Dad hisses, but Caleb just laughs even harder.
I realize I can’t really get out of it now. I mean, I just told Dad that I didn’t have any weekend plans, so turning Caleb down would be downright rude and would just cause Dad to wonder what the hell is up with me.
“Sure,” I mumble. “Sounds good.” I twist my hands in my lap.
They’re all clammy, and perhaps I really am coming down with something.
I kind of hope that I am because then I’d have a proper excuse for not going tomorrow.
Then again, knowing Caleb, he’d probably come by with chicken soup or something like that, and the last thing I want is him in my space for the foreseeable future.
Caleb smiles at me crookedly as he tugs at his tie. “Cool. I’ll pick you up at nine tomorrow, how does that sound?”
Like sheer and utter torture. Like fucking hell on earth. But I obviously can’t say that. Not with Dad sitting right next to me. “Perfect. It sounds perfect.”
“Perfect,” Caleb repeats, pulling off the tie and slinging it over his broad shoulder like a rebellious boarding school kid.
Sweat beads along my forehead at the sight, and my mouth goes dry the second he starts unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt, revealing inches of smooth, tanned skin and a patch of dark hair.
Oh God, I fucking love chest hair. I only have a sparse smattering myself, but I love it.
I bet it’s really soft too. It looks soft. I bet—
“I gotta go!” I blurt, bolting from the stool.
It wobbles ominously, and Dad reaches out to steady it, eyeing me curiously.
“I just forgot I have to…” I search for something, anything, but it’s like my mind has gone completely blank, still lost somewhere in that dark patch of hair.
I can’t put a single meaningful sentence together to save my life.
I gesture with my hands, and Caleb stares at me, trouble building in his eyes.
“There’s this… So you know…” I shrug, feeling my cheeks growing pinker by the second.
Caleb cracks his neck from side to side and sighs deeply. “Ahhh, that’s what I’m talking about. Damn tie. I hate it. Why do you make me wear it, Sal? Ties are only good for one thing.” He waggles his eyebrows, and I can only imagine what that one thing is, although I shouldn’t. I so shouldn’t.
Dad laughs. “You’re such a baby, Caleb. Get over yourself.”
Now that they seem to have forgotten about me, I make my way past Caleb, keeping some space between us. Our gazes meet briefly as I pass him.
“See you tomorrow, Lil’ K,” he drawls, then winks. I just glare at him, then hurry out the door, Dad’s “Jeez, Caleb, leave the kid alone,” following me down the stairs.
Yes, leave me alone, Caleb. Leave me alone.
Because I don’t recognize myself when I’m around you.
I don’t trust my body or my mouth. I suddenly want things that I have no business wanting, like your lips on my lips, or in other places where I just know they’d feel so fucking good.
So, please just leave me alone, Caleb, because I’ll never run out of reasons why it would be a mistake of fucking epic proportions if something happened between us.