Chapter Sixteen
Zadie
The crescent moon hung low over the trees as we walked through the park, our hands still tangled together.
We’d barely stopped talking all night. The questions had been abandoned somewhere around dessert, replaced with natural, easy conversation. Banter punctuated with looks that went way beyond friendly, and touches that lingered longer than they should have.
It wasn’t a date. But it was perfect.
Too perfect.
And I couldn’t shake the feeling that once Caleb learned the truth, this would be the last time he’d want to be anywhere near me.
“Can I ask about Sean?” His hand was still holding mine, our arms still swinging gently. But something shifted in the air between us.
“I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“I’m curious how you’ve never been on a date, even though you two lived together.”
I swallowed the thick ball of regret threatening to choke me. “Promise not to judge?”
“What kind of crappy friend would I be if I judged you?”
I hated this story. But maybe telling it was one step closer to telling the truth. Maybe if Caleb heard who I really was, he’d decide friends was more than enough.
“We never dated. The first time I met him, I was working in a club back in Calgary. An upscale place, constantly filled with rich assholes who thought money could buy access to anything they wanted. That’s how I met him. He was there practically every night for months.”
Thinking about it, his constant presence in a club should have been the first warning sign.
“Everyone knew who he was. There were all these rumors about him—most of them bullshit, but when you’re surrounded by it every night, lines blur.”
Our stride slowed, his attention rapt.
“I was struggling. Money was everywhere around me, and I was desperate. I wanted out.”
“Out?”
“Out of a life that was going nowhere. I’d just ended another disastrous relationship.
I’d moved back into a rented shack with my parents who were temporarily back together.
They acted like they were doing me a favor, but I was the only one with a steady job.
I felt like my dreams were on hold because they’d never grown up.
I needed out of that. And you know…desperation breeds stupidity. ”
“Zadie—”
“You wanted to know. Let me finish.” My voice was a hell of a lot harder than I felt. “One of the rumors was that Sean was interested in me. So I flirted. Talked to him every night. Wore shorter skirts, higher heels. Tried to hustle him for bigger tips.”
God, even the words tasted vile. “He noticed me. Made me feel special. Sweet-talked me. And then we had sex in the alley behind the bar.”
Caleb’s hand tightened around mine, but he didn’t interrupt.
“We did it again the next night, in the bathroom. And then every night after that, wherever we could. That’s all we ever had. Sex.”
He stopped walking. Our joined hands pulled me up short, and he turned to face me. “But you said he begged you to move to Montreal. That he was in love with you.”
“He did. But I think he was fooling himself. And honestly, he didn’t have to beg that hard.”
“He sounds like a fucking asshole.” His words weren’t full of hurt or even pity. They were just a cold, flat assessment, delivered through a clenched jaw.
“He is. But this is what I’m trying to tell you. I was pathetic. You picked up on the kind of person he is without even meeting him. I lived with the man and was completely clueless.”
“You’re not pathetic.” His voice was firm. “Wanting to believe in someone doesn’t make you pathetic. It makes you human.”
“A human who makes terrible choices.”
“A human who survived them.” He squeezed my hand again. “It’s your turn.”
“My turn for what?”
“To ask me something.”
“Cal.” I shifted under the weight of his gaze. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”
His shoulders went rigid, and something painful flickered across his features before he forced it away. “Can it wait?”
“No, it—”
“Zadie.” His free hand came up, one finger pressing gently against my lips. “Whatever it is, it can wait. I shouldn’t have asked about him tonight.” His fingertip traced slowly down my lower lip. “Not on your first date.”
“But it’s important. It might change your mind about being here with me.”
“Nothing could change my mind.” His voice dropped, shooting sparks across my skin. “Especially since you’ve finally admitted this is a date.”
“It’s not—”
“No pressure. No expectations.” He tilted my chin up with his finger until I was looking into his brilliant blue eyes. “Just you and me. No regrets for one night.”
The park was nearly empty. The distant sound of music drifted from somewhere across the grass. And Caleb was looking at me like the rest of the world had disappeared.
“Okay,” I whispered.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? You get this tiny crinkle in your forehead when you’re worried.” His thumb brushed across my brow. “And you do this thing with your mouth.”
“Cal.” I was losing the fight. I could feel it slipping away from me.
His arm slid around my back, pulling me against him. His chest pressed into mine, his hand splayed warm and firm at the base of my spine.
“What are you doing?” I gasped.
“Kissing you.” His mouth hovered just out of reach. “Tell me to stop.”
Panic and desire crashed through me at once. He was giving me an out. A door I could walk through. But my legs wouldn’t move and only one word came to mind. “Please.”
“Please what? Please stop? Please kiss you?” His breath was warm against my lips. “I need to hear you say it, Zadie.”
But my voice had abandoned me.
I lifted onto my toes, my hand sliding to the back of his neck, pulling him down until our mouths met, and I sighed at the contact.
The kiss was soft. His lips molded to mine in a way that felt like both a question and an answer. We stayed there for what felt like forever.
And still, it ended too soon.
He pulled back like I was quicksand he was afraid of sinking into. His breathing was controlled, but his eyes stayed fixed on my mouth.
My heart was frantic. Partly from the kiss. Partly from the anxiety crawling through me.
I wanted him. Far too much.
“Why’d you stop?” I asked.
Instead of answering, he pulled me back in. Crushed me against him in an embrace so tight I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began.
His mouth found my ear. “Trust me, I don’t want to. But I’m trying to be respectful and do this right.”
When he loosened his hold, I saw the crack in his composure. He raked a hand through his hair, his breathing wasn’t as steady as I’d thought, and his bottom lip was caught between his teeth.
It was too much.
Too much want. Too much ache. Too much fucking hope.
I pulled my hand from his and started walking toward the house. Toward the only place I could go to put a wall between us.
“Zadie, wait.” He was beside me in seconds, his stride eating the distance mine couldn’t.
“I need to go home.”
“Then I’ll walk you.”
“Caleb—”
“I’m walking you home,” he said. And I didn’t have it in me to argue.
We covered the five blocks in silence. My arms were wrapped around myself, tears blurring the streetlights into fuzzy halos. He kept pace beside me, close but not touching, his hands shoved into his pockets like he was physically restraining himself from reaching for me.
My stomach sank when I saw Chantel’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Caleb and I would be alone together, nothing but our bedroom doors separating us.
At the front door, my hands shook so badly I couldn’t get the key into the lock. He didn’t wait. He reached around me, turned the knob, and pushed it open.
Damn Chantel for leaving it unlocked again.
I went straight inside without looking back. But I barely made it two steps before his hand closed around my wrist.
He turned me to face him, the door swinging shut behind us, and suddenly I was pinned against it with Caleb filling every inch of space in front of me.
“Don’t run from me.” It was the most demanding thing he’d ever said.
And somehow, despite feeling trapped, despite being capable of nothing more than a stare, I was more turned on than ever.
His eyes locked on mine, his hand still gripping my wrist. “Was it the kiss?”
“No.”
“Then tell me what’s wrong. Because five minutes ago you were kissing me back, and now you’re crying and running, and I’m not leaving this spot until I understand why.”
My chest heaved, hot tears streaking down my face.
His free hand came up to my face, his thumb dragging the tears from my cheek. The gentleness of the touch against the steel in his voice nearly broke me in half.
“It’s not you,” I managed. “It was never you.”
He stood there, barely a foot away, his chest rising and falling, his eyes searching mine for something I wasn’t sure I could give him.
And then his hands were in my hair, his body pressing me back against the door, and his mouth was on mine. Not soft this time. Not tentative. This kiss was urgent, consuming, and I kissed him back with everything I had because I was so fucking tired of fighting it.
His tongue found mine, and my heart detonated. His hand slid from my hair down the side of my neck to my collarbone and back up, his fingers curling around my throat before framing my jaw in his palm.
“I want you,” he murmured against my mouth.
I could feel exactly how much. But I knew it was more than lust. He wanted all of me. Even the parts I was afraid to show. Even the parts I didn’t have left to give.
His hand trailed from my jaw to my chest, his thumb brushing over my nipple through the thin fabric, and the moan that tore out of me was loud enough to wake the neighbors.
I wanted more. Wanted to get lost in him. Wanted to stop thinking.
But I couldn’t. Not like this. Not with a lie still sitting between us.
I pushed him back. His hand fell from my chest and caught my hip, trying to keep me close.
“Caleb.” I looked up at him through blurred, tear-soaked eyes. “I’m pregnant.”
The silence that followed was so complete I could hear my own heartbeat and nothing else.
His gaze dropped to my stomach. His hand, still on my hip, slid slowly across my middle. “Pregnant,” he whispered.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
His eyes snapped back to mine. “It’s okay. I understand why you didn’t.”
“Can we still be friends?”
The word landed between us like a grenade. His hands fell to his sides as he took a step back.
“No.” His voice was quiet but absolute.
I held his stare, trying not to look at his mouth, trying not to notice the way the warmth was fading from his expression.
Then he reached for me again.
His hand slid along my arm, guiding me away from the door before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead.
It was soft, almost formal, and it lingered just long enough to hurt.
“I don’t want to be your friend, Zadie.” He let me go and walked out.
No hesitation. No looking back. The front door swung shut behind him, and a second later, I heard his footsteps going down the steps.
He was gone.
But where the hell would he go?
I stood alone in the front hall with the taste of him still on my lips, whatever hope I'd let myself feel buried under the wreckage at my feet.