Chapter 13
Nia
The second I saw Cal standing outside my door, something in my stomach tightened immediately.
Not just because he looked good standing there underneath the dim lights in gray sweats and a white fitted tee.
Not just because his voice always seemed to settle somewhere deep underneath my skin.
But because there was something unfamiliar in his face tonight.
Something heavier. His eyes stayed locked on me while the city moved quietly behind him, and I could immediately tell he’d been drinking.
Not sloppy drunk—Cal would never allow himself to get sloppy—but enough whiskey sat on his breath and in his expression to soften the sharp control he usually carried.
“You've never worn a dress like that for me.”
The way he’d said it replayed in my head while I stared at him standing there now.
How could he even say something like that?
Did he not remember what our situation was?
We were the ones who decided this couldn’t become anything serious.
We were the ones who agreed to stop crossing lines because things had gotten awkward the second feelings tried entering the room.
So why now? Why was he suddenly checking me like I belonged to him?
I exhaled quietly before stepping aside.
“Caleb, come inside and drink some water before you do or say anything stupid.”
A small smirk touched his mouth before he followed me in silently, his towering frame immediately swallowing up the space in the entryway.
Honestly, I mostly let him in because he needed to sober up before driving home.
And maybe because some part of me still always softened for Cal, no matter how hard I tried to keep my walls up.
I put my purse and keys carefully onto the wall rack by the entrance.
For a second, I simply stood there watching him.
Tall. Quiet. Watching me back with an unblinking intensity that made the air between us feel incredibly heavy.
Then I shook my head lightly and turned toward the kitchen, my heels clicking softly against the hardwood floor while I walked away from him, desperate to put some distance between our bodies.
Of course, he followed, his quiet footsteps tracking right behind me.
“So, how was your date?” he asked again from behind me, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly register that vibrated straight through me.
I opened the fridge slowly, letting the cool air hit my face before grabbing him a bottle of water.
“It was lovely,” I answered simply, keeping my voice completely even.
“Lovely?” he repeated, stepping closer, the word rolling off his tongue almost like it physically irritated him to say it.
I finally turned toward him.
“What is up with you tonight?”
He shrugged slightly before taking the water from my hand, his fingers brushing against mine just long enough to send a quiet shock down my spine.
“Nothing.”
“Cal.”
He twisted the cap off and took a long drink before dragging his hand slowly across his beard, his eyes never leaving my face.
“Are you nervous about Friday?” I asked, softer this time, trying to find a logical anchor for the heavy energy rolling off him. “Because if this is about the game—”
“It’s not about the game.”
The way he said it made my stomach flutter immediately, a sudden, erratic skip of my pulse.
His voice had lowered into something dark and dangerously intimate.
The kitchen suddenly felt smaller when he stepped closer toward me.
And closer. And dammit… the rich smell of whiskey mixed with his signature cologne immediately wrapped around me, warm and masculine and entirely too familiar.
My body reacted before my brain could even attempt to catch up, the heat curling low in my stomach.
I hated that. I hated how effortlessly he could undo every single boundary I set.
Cal towered over me naturally, his chest rising and falling slowly underneath that fitted shirt while his eyes dragged across my face like he was trying to figure something out.
“You got me fucked up tonight,” he murmured quietly.
“Why?” I whispered before I could stop myself.
His jaw flexed slightly.
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you with him.”
The honesty in his voice hit me harder than I expected.
For a second, neither one of us moved. Then his hands slid slowly into my curls.
My breath caught instantly, trapped in the back of my throat.
Cal’s fingers threaded deeper into my hair, tightening gently at the roots as he tilted my head back—firm, unyielding, and leaving me entirely exposed.
He leaned down, and then his mouth was everywhere, obliterating every thought in my head.
Soft, deliberate kisses pressed against my forehead, then dragged across my temple, my cheek, and the sensitive corner of my mouth.
When his lips brushed slowly down the sensitive line beneath my ear, a violent shiver ripped through me.
My eyes fluttered shut, my hands instinctively gripping his shirt for balance because good Lord…
the sheer, heavy heat of it felt entirely too good.
“Cal…” I gasped softly.
His hands tightened slightly in my hair again before he pulled back just enough to look directly into my eyes.
“That man can’t make you feel like this,” he murmured.
I should’ve argued. Should’ve pushed him away.
Instead, I just stared at him, breathing harder now while tension burned hotter and hotter between us.
Then suddenly, his hands slid underneath my thighs and lifted me effortlessly onto the kitchen counter.
The movement shocked a soft gasp out of me immediately.
My dress bunched slowly against my thighs while he stepped between my legs, his forehead resting briefly against mine while both of us tried catching our breath.
Cal kissed me like he’d been thinking about it all night.
Maybe all week. His hands gripped my thighs tighter while his mouth moved against mine, slowly at first, before the tension between us finally snapped completely.
I gasped softly when his teeth dragged lightly against my bottom lip, and the low sound that left his chest afterward nearly made my body melt against him.
He pulled back just an inch, his forehead resting against mine again.
“See,” he murmured, his breath warm against my skin. “This is exactly my problem.”
“What?” I whispered breathlessly.
“You act like this shit between us is regular.”
My stomach tightened immediately. Because honestly? It had never felt regular. Not really. Complicated, maybe. Dangerous, definitely. But never regular.
Cal’s eyes searched mine for a second, dark and heavy, like he almost wanted to say more—before his mouth found my neck instead.
Lord have mercy. My head tipped back automatically when his lips brushed slowly against my sensitive skin, his beard scraping lightly enough to send a sharp, liquid heat rushing straight between my legs.
And the worst part? He knew exactly what he was doing to me.
Every press of his mouth was calculated to undo me.
“You smell so damn good,” he muttered against my throat, his voice rough and vibrating against my pulse, while his hands slid higher underneath my dress, his palms warm against my bare skin.
I grabbed onto his broad shoulders tighter, my fingernails digging into his shirt as I tried to steady my shallow breathing, but it was completely impossible with him standing directly between my legs like this.
The rich scent of whiskey on his breath.
The sheer, overwhelming warmth of his body.
The way he looked at me like he was fighting a war against his own restraint.
Everything about it felt too intense tonight. Different somehow. More desperate.
Cal pulled back slightly then, just an inch or two, his eyes dragging slowly and deliberately over me. I was sitting on the high marble counter, my dress bunched up around my thighs and my heels framing his hips, while my lipstick was probably halfway ruined already from the heat of him.
“Why you looking at me like that?” I asked softly, my voice breathless and trembling in the quiet kitchen.
“Because I’m trying real hard to behave.”
I laughed quietly despite myself, a breathless sound that caught in my throat when his thumbs caressed the inside of my legs.
“And since when do you behave?”
His hands tightened gently against my thighs, pulling me a fraction of an inch closer to his chest.
“Since another man started taking you on rooftop dates, apparently.”
There it was again. That jealousy.
I should've shut it down right then, but the sheer gravity of him made it impossible to pull away.
I should’ve shut this down right there. Should’ve told him to go home and sleep this whiskey off before we crossed another line we couldn’t uncross.
Instead, I found myself pulling him back toward me by the front of his shirt.
That was all the permission Cal needed. His mouth crashed into mine again while his hands slid up my waist, and within seconds, the kitchen felt entirely too hot to breathe in.
My legs wrapped around him instinctively while his chest pressed harder against mine, and every kiss somehow felt deeper than the last. Like we were both trying not to think too hard about why this suddenly felt so emotional tonight.
At one point, Cal pulled away just enough to look at me again, his thumb brushing softly across my cheek while both of us tried catching our breath.
“You know what your problem is?” he asked quietly.
“What?”
“You keep looking at me like you’re trying to figure me out.”
I swallowed softly.
“Maybe I am.”
His eyes darkened slightly at that before he leaned in again, slower this time, kissing me with the kind of familiarity that only came from years of unfinished history. And somewhere between his hands in my curls and the warmth of his body against mine, I stopped thinking altogether.