Chapter Eighteen
Caleb
The Next Night
I pull up outside Indi’s apartment.
As I lock the car, I still can’t get over how tiny the place is. The entire neighborhood looks rough as hell, and I can’t help imagining that when I come back outside, my tires will be gone, the doors stripped, and key scratches carved all over the bodywork of my precious Lexus.
Cringing at the thought, after grabbing the flowers from the passenger seat, I double-check the locks before heading toward her front door.
My heart is racing again.
Seeing Indi two days in a row already feels like an addiction I could happily drown in.
I knock twice and wait, my mind wandering far too easily toward thoughts of where tonight might lead. I try hard not to get carried away imagining what it would feel like to make love to her again, because I already know that road will only get me into trouble.
The door finally swings open, and Indi stands there still dressed in her work uniform. She raises an eyebrow and smirks. “I only called you ten minutes ago. You didn’t have to race over here straight away. I still need a shower.”
I grin and hand her the flowers as she steps aside to let me in. “Well, I could always help you with that shower if you want.”
She slaps my chest lightly. “Behave. And thank you, these are beautiful. You really didn’t have to.”
“Felt like the right thing to do.” I glance around the apartment again. “Plus, this place needs something to brighten it up.”
Her eyes narrow slightly. “Thanks,” she says sarcastically while shutting the door behind me.
Instantly, I realize I’ve stepped in shit of my own making.
Following her through the tiny living room and into the kitchen, I take in the peeling paint, the worn cupboards, and the barely functioning sink.
“Sorry,” I say quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… you’re such a bright, upbeat person. I guess I expected your place to feel more like you. Not so dark and…” I glance around carefully, “…empty.”
She gives me a small fake smile while pulling a vase down from the cupboard. “I know it’s not much, but it’s home.” She shrugs slightly while filling the vase with water. “I’m used to it.”
The awkward tension settles thickly between us.
“Okay,” I say, trying to shift the mood. “How about you go shower while I make myself comfortable, and we’ll figure the rest out after that?”
“Sounds great.” She turns the faucet off with slightly more force than necessary, then arranges the flowers in the vase and places them on the kitchen island.
“I’ll try not to take too long,” she says before pointing a finger at me with a smirk. “And don’t even think about trying to join me.”
Christ.
“As much as I’d love to see you naked and wet…” I pause. “Actually, no, I’ve got nothing else to add. I really just want to see you naked and wet.”
Rolling her eyes, she shakes her head while walking toward the hallway. “Well, tough luck. Go sit in the living room and watch TV or something.”
I laugh quietly, but as she disappears down the hall and shrugs her cardigan off her shoulders, my attention drifts back toward the kitchen sink.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
The leaking tap is loud enough to drive me insane.
I glance around the apartment again, taking in the rusted sink, crooked cupboard doors, and worn-out fixtures.
How the hell does she live like this?
She deserves so much better than this dump.
I know she’d never let me buy her a better place, but maybe I can at least make this one a little nicer. Opening the cupboard beneath the sink, I dig through cleaning products until I spot a small toolbox shoved at the back. Pulling it out, I grin when I find a bunch of old rusty tools inside.
Perfect.
I sit cross-legged on the kitchen floor and start with the cupboard hinge.
After a few minutes of adjusting and tightening screws, the door finally shuts properly, instead of hanging half-open.
Smiling proudly to myself, I hear the shower switch off down the hall.
I move quickly to the sink, grab the wrench, and tighten the taps, adjusting the washers until the dripping finally stops.
Silence.
Beautiful fucking silence.
As Indi hums softly to herself while getting dressed, I tuck the toolbox back under the sink and lean against the kitchen island with a grin. Keeping busy definitely helped distract me from the mental images of her standing naked beneath hot water only a few feet away from me.
Barely.
A few moments later, she walks back into the kitchen, toweling off her damp hair.
And Christ.
She looks gorgeous.
Instead of trying to dress up for me, she’s wearing soft flannelette pajama bottoms and a plain long-sleeved purple top with no makeup, wet blonde hair, and bright blue eyes. And somehow she looks even sexier than she did the night before.
“Why are you smirking at me?” she asks while walking closer.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I found your toolbox under the sink. I fixed the cupboard door and stopped the tap leaking.”
Her eyes widen slightly. “You went through my cupboards?”
I tense immediately. “Only looking for tools, I swear.”
Her hard stare breaks instantly as she bursts out laughing and slaps my arm. “I’m kidding, you giant goof. God, you looked terrified.”
Still rubbing her wet hair with the towel, she walks over and tests the cupboard door a few times like she’s expecting it to fall apart. “Wow. You did a pretty good job.”
I grin proudly. “What? You think I don’t know how to fix things? I’m an excellent handyman.”
“I just don’t picture rock stars knowing how to use tools.” She shrugs. “I figured all you could do was sing and play guitar.”
“There are a lot of things I can do besides play guitar and sing.” My voice lowers slightly. “I’d happily demonstrate if you let me.”
She walks toward me and wraps her arms around my waist, pressing herself against my chest while her damp hair brushes against me and sends a chill straight through my body.
I hold her tightly.
“You’re a man of many talents, apparently,” she murmurs while looking up at me through those sparkling blue eyes.
“Many, many talents, my sweet Indi.”
She giggles softly before rising onto her toes, and I bend down to meet her halfway.
“Is kissing one of those talents?” she asks teasingly.
I smirk. “How about I show you and you can decide?”
She presses her lips gently against mine, and every muscle in my body instantly relaxes. Sliding my hand up her back and into her damp hair, I hold her against me while brushing my tongue slowly against hers.
The entire world fades away.
It’s just Indi and me standing barefoot in her tiny kitchen, kissing like this is exactly where we’re supposed to be.
When she finally pulls back, her feet settle flat against the floor again, and she smiles up at me. “Hmm… I suppose your kissing could qualify as a talent.” She taps her finger thoughtfully against her chin. “But don’t let it go to your head and start thinking you’re God’s gift to women.”
Laughing softly, I lean down and kiss her forehead. “You, Indi, are a fucking tease.”
She feigns shock and shakes her head. “Me? Never!” Then she smirks, releases me, and walks over to the refrigerator. “Thank you for fixing those things for me. I was thinking something quick and easy for dinner. Pasta, okay?”
I nod and follow her over while she pulls ingredients and hands them to me. I place everything on the island bench, my attention drifting immediately to her ass as she bends down again.
Christ.
I swallow hard, fighting the urge to walk over there and grab her properly.
She turns around suddenly, catching me staring. “See something you like there, Caleb?” she asks with a smug little smirk.
I huff out a laugh. “Sorry, but when you’re waving it around in front of me like that, it’s hard not to think about grabbing you and…” I trail off, shaking my head to clear away the filthy thoughts charging through my brain.
“Right.” She points toward the living room. “How about you piss off to the couch while I cook dinner without you feeling the need to grope me?”
Before she can move away, I grab the packet of pasta from her hands and gently spin her toward the living room. “How about I make dinner, and you relax after working all day?” I grin. “Then maybe I can grope you afterward.”
She laughs softly. “You? Cook?”
I place a hand dramatically against my chest. “Indi, I’ve lived alone for years now. I know how to cook.”
Her lips purse together while she tries not to laugh. “Well… maybe we cook together then?”
“Deal. But I’m making the sauce.”
She giggles and nods. “Okay, Chef. What do you need?”
“First, where do you keep your pots and shit?”
She points toward a cupboard, and I grab a saucepan and frying pan before placing them on the stove.
“Okay, Mr. Chef Extraordinaire,” she says while leaning against the counter. “What would you like me to do?”
I glance over my shoulder at her and grin. Crossing the kitchen, I wrap my hands around her waist and lift her straight onto the island bench.
“Whoa, Caleb!” she squeals between giggles as I step between her legs.
“I would like you to sit there and admire my skills, little pixie.”
She laughs and loops her arms around my neck while I lean down to kiss her softly. Her legs wrap instinctively around my waist, pulling me closer, and I smirk against her lips before slowly pulling away.
“If all you want is kissing, then you should probably stop grinding against me.”
She gives me a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”
Chuckling, I kiss her forehead before heading back to the stove.
While I start cooking, Indi stays perched on the bench watching me.
Now and then, she makes little impressed noises or giggles while I chop vegetables and stir the sauce.
I add the spices, let the sauce simmer, then grab a spoon and taste it.
“Mmm… fuck, that’s good.”
Indi laughs from behind me, and I glance back with a grin before scooping up another spoonful and walking it over to her. “Taste.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Bossy much. Yes, sir,” she teases before opening her mouth.