28. Lex
Chapter twenty-eight
I haven’t been able to wipe the smile off my face for the last week. Ever since Caleb started coming into Hallucinogens for every one of my shifts.
He’s claimed the last seat at the end of the bar, orders a drink and watches me work. When I’m not needed, I find a reason to creep down to his side and talk to him, learning everything I can about the real Caleb.
Every Sunday, without fail, his family has dinner at his grandparents’ house. He says it was his favourite time of the week, until recently. Now it shares a top spot for the nights he comes to visit me.
I’ve never met anyone who speaks of their family with such pride.
Everything he does is for them. He does it happily, but it’s also painfully obvious that he doesn’t do much for himself.
Something I’m familiar with. My dad’s not here to see it, but talking to Caleb makes me face a question.
Is it possible to do things for others that are also for ourselves?
Isn’t everything we know about a parent’s love that, at the end of the day, they just want us to be happy?
To have all the best things in life, no matter what that may look like ?
If Dad were still here, would I even want to be involved with the tavern? Would Dylan and Dad be running it together? That’s a nice thought.
One thing’s for sure, I’d still be down south in Killara Bay. I would never have met Claire. Or Caleb.
I love my life in Heart City, but I also miss the ease of my small beach town. Seeing my brother all the time.
I really do love learning about business. Building Legacy Malt with Dylan feels right, but the idea of leaving the city is starting to feel like less of a certainty.
It’s only a two-hour drive away, so it’s not like I’d never come back. It’ll be different not seeing Claire every day. Although things are changing for her, too.
“Lex?” The lingering way Lee calls my name makes me think it’s not the first time he’s said it.
“Sorry.” I chuckle. “What’s up?”
“Can you pass me the snow peas, please?”
I grab the bowl beside my chopping board and hand it over. Lee starts cutting them and adds them to the wok where he’s cooking all the vegetables for our curry.
“Hey, I wanted to ask you something,” Lee whispers, keeping his eyes down where he’s stirring.
I look up at Claire, comfortably lazing on the couch while she scrolls through movie titles before talking through the side of my mouth. “Yeah?”
“Has Claire ever been to Queens Coast?”
Queens Coast is a city on the other side of the country, known for its crystal beaches, coral reefs, and islands that dot the shore.
“No,” I whisper and shake my head. “She’s never been out of the state.”
“Does she have a passport?”
“Yeah. She’s always wanted to travel, just hasn’t made it anywhere yet. ”
“Hey, L squared,” Claire calls without moving her eyes from the TV, “what are you two whispering about over there?”
“Nothing, Bombshell.”
Claire’s amber eyes glow from over her shoulder as she stares at her boyfriend. “Liar.”
Lee puts his wooden spoon down on the chopping board next to the stove and leans his hands on the bench to match Claire’s stare. “Prove it.”
“Don’t tempt me, Lover Boy.” She smirks.
I interrupt them with a finger in the air. “Could I please ask that any and all tempting be done after I’ve left the room?”
Claire winks, then turns back around to the TV. Lee keeps looking at her like she shines brighter than every star in the sky before turning back to his cooking.
It’s a beautiful kind of look. One to envy. Not out of jealousy for my friend, but longing for myself.
I’ve never had a long-term relationship. I’ve always been scared to take the next steps, ones that solidify a future. The way my mother left my dad, left all of us, it lingered in a way I wish I didn’t give power to, but I can’t seem to help it.
Claire rolls off the couch, flouncing into the kitchen and joining Lee as he tinkers with our dinner sauce. She wraps her arms around his waist, hugging her chest to his back.
Her smile is more content than I think I’ve ever seen it. She’s always been a happy and confident person, but this smile is effortless comfort.
It reminds me of what I told her the other week, the night things started to change for her and Lee. When she decided to let herself try, trusting the fall and knowing that whatever was waiting would be worth it.
I hold myself back to avoid the inevitable hurt, but what’s the harm in taking a chance on something unknown? If it’s a mistake, then at least I won’t be left wondering .
If life has taught me anything, there’s no amount of hurt that I can’t pick myself up from.
I take my chopping board over to the stove, pushing the chopped spinach into the hot pan.
With Claire and Lee making kissy faces at each other, I pull the note out of my shorts pocket, turning away so the lovebirds can’t see.
Every night that Caleb comes into the club, a napkin note is left under the empty glass in front of his seat before he leaves.
Most of them are simple, flirty messages, but last night was different. As he does every night he visits, Caleb asks when he’ll see me again. Learning my next shift wasn’t for another three days wasn't something he enjoyed. Which brings me to his most recent note.
A man can only resist a siren’s song for so long.
I don’t think I have it in me to wait three days for your words.
If you want to talk, friend.
Caleb x
He left me his number. I’ve been staring at it all day, wondering how to break the ice.
I peer over my shoulder at Claire and Lee once more.
Lee has her wrapped in his arms, swaying them on the spot, something he always seems to do, while he whispers in her ear.
Claire’s cheeks blush, so I’m guessing it’s something sweet.
Nothing sexual would make Claire blush; it’s the softness Lee brings out in her that’s her weakness.
Empowered by their affection, I pull my phone from my pocket, save Caleb’s number, then start a new message.
ME:
Hey, it’s Lex :)
I hit send and immediately want to smash my head against the counter.
It’s been eighteen hours since he gave me his number, we’ve had many conversations over the last week, and that was the best I could come up with.
Why am I so lame? My phone chimes in my hand, and I smash it to my chest, muffling the sounds from Claire and Lee.
I roll my neck, trying to act nonchalant while I spy on what they’re doing. Oh, what a surprise, sucking each other’s face off. I jump up onto the kitchen bench and check the message.
CALEB:
Hi friend. What are you up to?
ME:
Cooking dinner with Lee. Claire’s decided to distract him with a makeout session while everything simmers, so I thought I’d say hi. What are you up to?
I’m not prepared for the photo that comes through a few moments later.
I guess that explains how he stays in shape.
There’s a selfie of Caleb and his brother in a gym.
Gage is flipping off the camera while he drinks from a water bottle.
Caleb is smiling, big and cheesy. Sweat makes the waves in his hair turn more into curls, and he is shirtless.
I repeat, shirtless. I can see beads of sweat as they drip down his chest, and a silver chain rests against his glistening skin.
CALEB:
Just working out with Gage. Sorry about the finger, that’s just his immediate response when anyone asks him to smile. Did you manage to make it to a yoga class earlier like you planned?
I see the question, but I drag my finger on the screen to bring the photo back into view for a little longer.
Seeing his naked chest, slick with sweat, takes me back to the first time we were together.
Him lying on top of me and thrusting so deep and hard.
Tingles erupt over my thighs, and I find myself squirming on the spot.
A new message pops up, sending the photo back up in the chat.
CALEB:
I saw Tristan sent through some plans for the distillery. Have you had a chance to look at them? What did you think?
I think my brain has short-circuited, that’s what I think.
CALEB:
You know I can see my messages are being read, right… Siren?
CALEB:
Are you looking at the photo I sent?
Shit. How do I handle this now? I look up at Claire, who’s back to sassing Lee as he pulls plates from the cupboard to serve up dinner. Hmm, what would Claire do?
ME:
In my defence, you have your shirt off.
Dots dance on my screen, then stop. Yeah, that’ll teach him. I’m feeling smug and proud of my response when Lee hands me my plate.
“Thanks. I’m gonna eat in my room. You two enjoy your movie. Just remember, the living room is a communal space. No banging on the couch,” I say as I hop off the counter.
Lee’s eyes widen and dart over to Claire, but she shakes her head. “It’s okay, baby, she means when she’s home and likely to walk in on it.”
“Yep. That!” I say, then head down the hall to my bedroom.
I close the door and put my plate and phone on the bedside table while I prop up my pillows. I scoot back against the headboard, then grab my headphones so I can listen to an audiobook while I eat. I’m searching through the titles when another message comes through, with another picture attached.
Never mind the tingles in my legs, now it’s my whole body.
Caleb stands in front of a mirror, his waistband pulled low on his hips, showing off prominent V muscles that lead down to a noticeable bulge thanks to the grey sweatpants.
He’s smirking at his reflection in the mirror, as if he knows I’m going to be looking long and hard at this.
The muscles in his arms are full and pronounced, his six-pack could cut glass.
ME:
That’s really not fair.
CALEB:
You could even the scale. Send me a picture, Siren.
ME:
A dirty one?!?!?!
CALEB:
Mine’s not dirty. I’m just showing you how hard I worked at the gym today. Lots of friends have accountability partners when it comes to working out.
ME:
Sir. This is not an accountability photo, and you know it.
CALEB:
Fuck, Lex. You can’t call me sir.
His words encourage me. Tempt me. I look down at the baggy T-shirt I’m wearing with loose cotton shorts and think for a second before I jump off the bed and over to my dresser.
I search through my underwear for the one bra I bought on a splurge.
I normally buy sensible underwear—nude colours, comfortable fit.
But when I saw this one, I couldn’t resist. It’s a pretty lilac colour with lace edges, and it gives my boobs a nice lift, making them look perky and round.
I whip my T-shirt over my head and take off the black sports bra I was wearing, replacing it with the purple bra instead.
I walk over to my bathroom, wondering if I should put on a tank top that makes the lace just peek over the top, but then I remember Caleb’s invitation.
I can even the scale. He did send me one with his shirt off, so fair is fair.
I look in the mirror, pull my hair out from its messy bun so the red waves drop over my shoulder, and smile. I look straight at the camera lens so there’s no mistaking exactly who I’m taking this photo for and hit send before I can chicken out.
I put the phone on the bench and run out of the bathroom, collecting my T-shirt from the floor, giving myself something to do while I wait for his response. I hear it chime from the bathroom, and my stomach almost leaps out of my throat.
I slowly walk back to the bathroom and collect my phone, making myself sit down on the bed before I’m allowed to look at it.
CALEB:
Okay, I see what you mean about shirtless photos. For the record, I know we’re friends, but my thoughts are very unfriendly right now.
ME:
Back at you. Sir.
The rest of the night is spent flirting and texting with Caleb. When it’s time to go to bed, I can’t help but think that I really like this friend thing we have going. But it’s also proving to me that I don’t want him to just be my friend.