Chapter 23
“Well, well, well, aren’t you two something to see.”
Adelaide. Shit is right. I turn, stepping away from Caleb and shoving my hands into my pockets. I’m a caricature of a criminal trying to act natural to distract a witness from the crime.
“Nicolette is going to absolutely love this.” Adelaide’s grin is so self-satisfied that I wonder if she had planned this entire thing: beckoning me here, roping me into working with Caleb, causing the earthquake, booby-trapping the tree outside the cabin.
Hell, maybe she scheduled Jeff’s first physical therapy appointment with Nadia.
She strikes me as someone who likes a long con.
“Which is why she can’t know.” It’s the first time I’ve heard Caleb use that stern, displeased tone on anyone other than me.
“Well, then, you two shouldn’t have been making out in a public place like a couple of horny teenagers.” She guffaws, her eyes twinkling in joy at her discovery.
I am not sure there is a hue deep enough on the color wheel to describe my blush.
“Actually, we’d appreciate it if no one knows,” I say. “It’s new, and I’m leaving soon, and we don’t want to confuse anyone.”
Adelaide’s responding laugh is jubilant, as if we’re a couple of adorable and delusional children. “I think the people you should be worried about confusing are yourselves.”
It’s harsh, but she’s probably right. I’ve never had a casual, time-delineated relationship, and I worry I chose the worst person to test my capacity for it.
My feelings for Caleb are not casual—they are consuming.
I can calculate the distance between us every time we’re in the same room.
I seek his reaction to every small exchange.
When he leaves, my mind fast-forwards to the next time I’ll see him.
If Jeff was the lauded hardcover that sat on my nightstand for a year, reliably putting me to sleep after a few dense passages, Caleb is the page-turner keeping me up all night, making me obsess over what will happen next, silencing reality with fiction.
I want to devour him, consume every detail, and discover every twist.
But maybe that’s what a fling is; perhaps it’s always this intense. Perhaps nothing this powerful can last, because I’ll burn through the chapters and reach the last page too soon.
“Adelaide,” Caleb warns.
But she raises a perfectly penciled brow, silencing him. “No one’s going to hear it from me.” She waggles a finger back and forth between us, her smile blooming. “But word to the wise: If you want to keep this little secret, you may want to keep your distance and nix the PDA.”
She slips into the bathroom, her laughter drifting behind her.
“Do you think she’ll spill?” I ask. Adelaide, as well meaning as she is, is not someone I’d expect to stay silent about anything.
“Nah,” he says. “She’s always kept my secrets.” He runs his hands through his hair and down his face.
“Wait.” I laugh. “Do you make a habit of secret relationships?” And then I still. This isn’t a relationship. It’s a . . . whatever it is. I think I just made the first fatal flaw of a fling. My face heats again. It’s a wonder embarrassment can’t kill you.
But Caleb smiles—bright, toothy, beautiful. “This is, in fact, a first.” He reaches for my fingers, tangling ours together. “Adelaide, or Mrs. Chan, was my high school guidance counselor. She retired last year.”
I snort out a laugh. “No way.” That answers that mystery, at least. Adelaide looks ageless.
“I got into a bit of trouble back in the day, but she didn’t say a word to Uncle Sonny. She gave me chance after chance.”
Another page turns, and I want to curl up in his stories. “Then why are you worried?”
“Because we’re still here. Like this.” He raises my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. “Even though I know she’s right, I can’t seem to stop touching you.” With his other hand, he hooks a finger in my belt loop, tugs me to him, and ducks for a kiss.
I give in for a heartbeat as the heat of him pours from my mouth to my chest, and desire pools deep in my center. But he’s telling me I need to be the willpower. I need to dog-ear the page for later, set him aside, and let reality intrude until I can enjoy him in private.
I press one more kiss to his lips and step back. His hands trail after me, holding on to me, stretching until I drift out of reach.
When we emerge from the hallway, there’s a crowd tucked around Mom: Abby, Bob, and Carmela. Ian is perched on a chair at the far end of the booth.
Caleb and I were careless. The entire town is here tonight.
“Why do you two look guilty,” Mom asks, and we both freeze. “Did you get into another argument?”
“Just a minor face-off, but it’s all good because I won this one,” I say, and it’s the right answer, because the table erupts in laughter.
Ian stands. “Eden.” His smile is warm and genuine as he reaches in for a hug, patting my back amiably. “Did you and Caleb manage to stay out of trouble this week otherwise?”
My mind is awash with every conceivable reason for this question: He knew we stripped down to nothing in the cabin, or he spied us in the hallway, in Caleb’s car, or in the forest? Maybe Caleb confided in him?
“Umm, I . . . well,” I mumble.
But he breaks out in a laugh. “Just wanted to make sure you didn’t get trapped during one of those aftershocks.”
Oh, right. Whew. “I figure I’m safe if I stay away from Caleb in confined spaces.” Which, apparently, I am very, very bad at. I’m lucky Ian assumes I’m joking rather than admitting my new favorite hobby.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Caleb’s whisper slips under the din of voices. He leans in and says, “I’m good in confined spaces,” as he brushes past me to accept Ian’s handshake hug.
When I look away, I catch Adelaide’s gaze as she emerges from the hallway. She shakes her head as she approaches with a knowing grin plastered across her face. She slides into the booth beside Carmela as a waiter I don’t recognize comes to take our order.
When Ian says his goodbyes, his arms filled with take-out bags, Caleb and I slip into the two chairs perched at the end of the booth. It saves me from eye contact but keeps him at touching distance, which has proven dangerous.
I don’t follow the conversation, which is mainly gossip about town residents I haven’t met or don’t recall. But my dinner is good, and Caleb keeps his thigh pressed to mine as a promise. And honestly, that may be why I don’t follow the conversation.
“Are you with your mom this weekend?” Adelaide asks Abby as she tucks into her burger.
“Yeah. I think my dad needs a break from me.” Abby giggles.
“Never.” Caleb gives her the side-eye and a sly smile at the same time.
“He’s been asking me to play the quiet game more often than normal this week.”
Caleb frowns. “Lies.”
“Nicolette.” Adelaide reaches across the table to grab Mom’s good hand. “You look like you’re doing well, why don’t you and I spend the day together on Saturday? I’ll treat you to a facial at Josephine’s.”
Mom looks at me, unsure. “Oh, I don’t know.”
“A change of scenery will do you good. And surely Eden will let me borrow you for the day,” Adelaide says.
Caleb nudges my knee. Adelaide is working some meddling matchmaker magic or trying to lay a trap. This woman.
“What do you think, Eden? You won’t feel like I’ve abandoned you?” Mom says, and we must both hear the subtext at the same time because her eyes widen, and she looks away before I answer.
And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it? She wants my absolution, and I want her acknowledgment.
But neither of us will get what we want if we’re unwilling to address it.
“No, Mom, you should go,” I say, which is another echo from all those years ago.