Chapter 25
ALIA
My expectations for tonight were, well, not this.
Did I think Cal would cook for me? No.
Did I suspect he would buy me flowers, make me laugh, engage in meaningful conversation, and give me a non-date better than all the dates I’ve had before? Not even a little.
But all that did happen.
Flowers, music, candles, his attention. Our conversation flows so naturally, as if we’ve known each other for years, that I stop and marvel at the ease between us. With Cal, I’m more outspoken than I’ve been in ages.
I figure this means I won’t be stunted by my inhibitions when we move things into the bedroom. I expect I’ll be doing the horizontal mambo across some cushioned surface in Cal’s home and somehow miraculously take control of my sexuality and my independence in one go.
But as soon as I’m done with dessert, Cal leads me to his garage and ushers me into the front seat of his SUV.
Our conversation keeps us occupied while he drives us to an unknown destination.
It’s a rude shock to my system when he rolls into the visitor parking lot right next to my apartment building.
Now I’m stuck wondering how my evening went off track.
Did I say something wrong? Did I misread the signs again?
I don’t have time for another anxiety spiral because the passenger door swings open.
Cal, ever the gentleman, holds out his hand to help me disembark. I stare at the beige stucco covering my home, disappointment spiking sharp and clear. Why am I back here already?
“Thank you for dinner,” I politely say without looking at him. If I stay here much longer, I’ll end up doing something utterly pathetic, even for me. Like begging him to take me back to his house so we can finally indulge in the ‘benefits’ part of our friendship.
As I move forward, he blocks my path, forcing my gaze to his.
He moves closer and instinctively, I scooch away.
Another small step and I shuffle backward until my ass hits the cool metal of his car.
Though our bodies are barely touching, his heat blankets me.
The heavy weight of his palm settles at my waist, curling over my hip to keep me from fidgeting.
My pulse scatters when soft lips brush against the hollow of my cheek, pressing so gently that I lean in, hungry for his touch.
His stubble scratches my skin as he slowly straightens, his lashes tangling with mine in a sensual swipe that has me closing my eyes in a desperate bid to make the moment last longer.
“Cal?” My voice comes out gravelly and rough. If this man can make me feel like my insides have liquified just by kissing my cheek, it is well within the realm of possibilities I will leave his bed a changed woman.
Why are you not kissing me more? Why are we here and not in your bed?
Either I’ve verbalized my thoughts or Cal has become dangerously proficient at reading me, because he looks pained.
“Tots,” he sighs, affectionately tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. The tips of his finger stroke the sensitive skin there, lingering like he is aching for a reason to continue touching me. “Let me walk you to your door.”
Old feelings of rejection rear their ugly heads as I fight to drive them away. Cal isn’t cruel, so he can’t know how hard this is for me. How much is riding on him wanting to explore something sexual because, in this case, I know he’ll gain far less than I will.
Cal links his fingers with mine and leads me up the path.
I should be wary of Irsia seeing us but I’m tripping on the fact that we’re holding hands.
My eyes snag on my palm encased in his large one, a raised vein running along the back of his hand, his thumb resting over my curled pointer.
This doesn’t feel casual, yet Cal seems so comfortable, I suspect I’m wrong.
I trudge beside him, silent, not only because I’m disappointed but also because I’m confused. As he reaches for the door, I tug at him to get his attention.
“You’re really sending me back home?”
A firm grip settles upon my chin, tipping my head up until I’m facing him. The green of his eyes are dark, focused, but I see nothing except gentleness.
“Whatever has your sweet brows clashing like that, stop. Don’t overthink this. We had a date tonight. We talked, we’re getting on the same page. That’s important before we do anything else.”
Same page? I don’t even think we’re reading the same book.
I peer at him, unable to hide my displeasure.
“I have to be on the road early tomorrow for a series of away games,” he reveals, his lips quivering at my grumpiness. “I don’t want to rush our time together, Alia. I like you too much to be done with you in a half hour.”
Mollified, my shoulders finally lower. “I was afraid you changed your mind.”
He snorts. “Nah. Are you changing yours?”
“If I do?” I don’t know why I’m needling him.
“Then I’ll still be your friend.” He says it so easily, like there is no doubt in his mind, that the heaviness in my chest disappears.
“And if I don’t?”
Firm fingers curl around my neck as he drags me into him, his lips flirting with the outer whorls of one ear, making me shiver. His voice drops an octave lower, washing over me like a physical caress.
“Then I’m going to be your friend who fucks you into the mattress so hard, you won’t want to leave it.
I’ll show you how many times I’ve wondered how far your blush goes underneath that dress.
How you’d taste when I put my mouth on that sweet space between your legs, where you’re hot, wet, and aching.
Whether you’ll lose some of your shyness when you’re on edge and begging me for a release. ”
How I manage to keep my knees from giving out, I’m not certain. When his head rises to lock eyes with mine, my toes curl at the desire reflected in them. I can’t look away, transfixed by the simmering lust that’s taken residence between us, weaving an invisible web which makes it hard to breathe.
Indecision flickers across his face as he drops his hold and steps back, seemingly taking his leave for the night. A sad whimper rumbles in my throat but, before I have the chance to even blink, his hands cup my face and his mouth lands on mine, hot and hard.
My surprise is muffled when he draws my lower lip between his, suckling it.
Grabbing his hair, I pull myself into him, my chest pressing into firm muscles, my heart pattering hard enough I think he might feel it too.
Liquid heat darts across my abdomen, settling into the rapidly dampening space between my legs when the tip of his tongue flicks against mine.
I don’t have the power to end this kiss. If I do, I refuse to acknowledge it. My lungs start to burn from oxygen deprivation, but I couldn’t care less. Not when the alternative is losing his touch.
When Cal pops off me with a soft smack, I involuntarily draw in a deep breath.
Cool air fills every cavity within me while the heat of his kiss lingers on my lips.
His expression gentles as his gaze darts between my eyes and mouth, his thumb stroking the edge of my jaw like he’s savoring each touch.
He shakes his head after a lengthy minute and releases me.
“Good night, Tots,” he murmurs roughly, regarding me with a look that sets off a flurry of chaotic flutters in my stomach.
He holds the door to the lobby open and tips his head, gesturing for me to move.
And as I enter on shaky legs, determined not to look back and reveal how embarrassingly turned on I am, I hear his husky wish as the door slides shut.
“Dream of me.”
Unsurprisingly, I do.
When I wake up, I see two messages Cal sent early in the morning, probably on his flight out.
Hockey Boy:
I’m trying really hard but it’s killing me not to ask…
If you had to rate our date…
Instantly, my body awakens. I’m grinning so wide, my cheeks hurt. Something bright and happy takes root in me. It’s possible he’s joking. But, when I reply, I’m completely honest.
Me:
23.