“I will literally drag you down the street, Grace Allen. Don’t try me.” Em rarely uses my full name, so when she does, I know I’m in trouble. She reminds me of Dad sometimes, which usually makes me snicker. Not tonight.
“I’d pay to watch that,” Amber chimes in.
“And I’d pay for some chicken tenders right about now, so hurry the hell up,” Céline urges with no short amount of moodiness. She gets cranky when she’s hungry.
The only reason I keep walking instead of running back to the dorm is because I consider myself a good friend, and frankly Céline scares the crap out of me when she’s hangry. So yes, I walk, but I also drag my feet all the way to Aaron’s restaurant because I’m pissed off and I need everyone to know. The soles of my boots would give me the middle finger right now if they could.
I didn’t want to go out, all right? Granted, they promised me we were only going for a nice dinner, no wild parties afterwards or anything too crazy, but my heart isn’t on it. Staying under my covers while listening to sad playlists and crying over how miserable my life is sounds way more appealing if you ask me. Sue me.
Not so deep down, I know I’m acting like a petulant child. It’s just that I can’t bring myself to care anymore.
So, what if I saw Cal hugging and laughing with another woman, a beautiful woman at that, and it made me want to throw up? Am I not allowed to feel like shit?
As I reluctantly follow my friends to The Spoon, I realize three excruciating things.
One—that woman, with her arm tattoos and pierced nose, looks exactly like his type. I don’t even know if he has a type, but if he does then it’s her. Undoubtedly.
Two—I like Cal. As in… I like him. As in, ‘I’d climb him like a tree and cuddle him all day afterwards’ kind of like.
And three—I’m fucked, and not in the way I’m hoping for.
Falling for a friend is bad enough, but falling for a friend who has made it crystal clear that he isn’t interested in a relationship? Yeah, that’s bad.
And all right, we kissed once and it was everything I imagined it would be and more, but I guess it meant nothing. Our relationship isn’t going to change.
“Come on, babe.” Em links her arm through mine, urging me to walk faster. “Dinner with the girls is exactly what you need right now. You’ll have enough time to sulk tomorrow.”
“I’m pathetic, aren’t I?”
“Not at all.” She surprises me by stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. Her eyes are hard on me as she says, “Are you overreacting just a bit? Totally, but you’re not pathetic. He told you he wasn’t in a relationship, and I don’t think he’s lying. That woman is probably just a friend, you’ll see. Cool off tonight and talk to him tomorrow.”
“I’m just so embarrassed.” I let out a heavy breath. Might as well confess it. “What do I even tell him? That I was jealous because I thought he was seeing someone else?”
She shrugs. “Sounds honest to me.”
I give her an unimpressed look. “And then what? I tell him I felt jealous because I’m the one he should be seeing?”
“That’s a solid plan right there, babe.”
“You’re kidding, right?” She has to be. That, or she’s gone insane in the past two minutes.
“Listen, Grace, I’ll say this once and you’d better get it through your thick skull, okay? That man isn’t seeing anyone because he likes you. And frankly, it’s painful to watch him give you those puppy eyes when you’re not looking because he’s just so damn obvious!” She throws her arms up in exasperation.
But I’m not buying it. “Don’t you think I would’ve noticed his crush on me if he had one? We see each other pretty much every day, he can’t pretend for that long.”
“Oh, sweetie, he’s not pretending. You’re just blind as hell.”
I think Emily is being too optimistic. There’s no way I haven’t noticed Cal’s crush on me (if he even has one, which I highly doubt). Jeez, I’m not that naive. I know when someone is interested in me, let alone when that someone is such a close friend. The signs should be right there under my nose, and they aren’t, hence there’s no crush. Simple as that, easy math.
Sure, he kissed me back, so he might be somewhat attracted to me. It doesn’t mean he feels anything deeper. He’s made himself very clear.
I’m still ruminating over it as I step into the warmth of the restaurant behind my friends. Shrugging my coat off, I notice right away that it’s packed—no surprise there. But then I do a quick scan of the room, and my whole body freezes when my eyes collide with a pair of black orbs, as deep as the night. Eyes I’ve gazed into more times than I can count.
“You have to be kidding me,” I mutter under my breath, but loud enough for Em to hear.
“What is it?” She follows my gaze, and I know the second she spots him because she says, “Oh.”
Yeah. Oh.
Sitting at one of the tables with a bunch of friends is none other than Cal. Around him, I recognize Trey and my own cousin, who apparently chose not to help the staff tonight in favor of hanging out. And sure enough, right on Cal’s left sits the woman he hugged at the shop.
I would be lying if I said it doesn’t feel like a knife to the gut.
“Come on, let’s sit down.” I’m so numb all over I barely feel Emily tugging at my hand and dragging me to the other side of the restaurant.
My back is turned to Cal, a small miracle. I tell my friends I don’t care what they order—I know the menu by heart, and I like everything—and eventually the food arrives, but it’s not enough to distract me and neither is whatever conversation around me.
The back of my head tingles, as if someone was drilling their eyes directly into it. I know he saw me when I walked in, so I have a fair idea whose eyes they could be. I don’t turn around.
“G!” I feel his hand on my shoulder before I see him. Aaron gives me the brightest of smiles as he moves his hand up and squeezes the spot between my neck and my shoulder. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight. How are you ladies enjoying the food?”
“It was a last-minute thing,” I mutter, doubting he can ever hear me over the loud chatter around us.
It’s Em who says, “It sucks, as usual.”
I choke on my water, but Aaron doesn’t hesitate, “I’ve got something else you can suck on later if you want.”
“Aaron! What the fuck?!” I slap his arm harder than I probably should in front of his employees, but his only response is a deep belly laugh. When I look at my best friend, she’s fighting to suppress a smile.
“It’s all good.” Em waves it off.
“Well, this is interesting,” Amber says, propping her chin on her palm. She points between my cousin and our friend. “I didn’t know you two were close.”
Yeah, I didn’t either. I know they exchange hellos when they see each other in passing and they’ve talked a couple of times at parties, but this level of… of familiar comfort is throwing me off. I’m not sure I want to find out what it is about, either.
“We aren’t.” Em pops a bite of Spanish omelet into her mouth.
“Cal is here, by the way.” Aaron changes topics drastically, although it doesn’t faze me. He does this all the time. It makes sense, seeing how he hates small talk.
“Oh, okay,” is the only reply I offer him.
Of course, it earns me a curious look, and I lower my gaze to Céline’s chicken tenders. I would lose my arm of I even attempted to touch one. “Are you fighting or something?” Aaron asks me in a low voice, close to my ear.
“No,” I mutter. We’re really not. I’m just an idiot. A very jealous one.
“Huh. Cal is acting all grumpy too, so I thought… Never mind. It was good to see you girls, I’m going back to my food before it gets cold.” He smiles, and gives my shoulder one last squeeze.
“Don’t choke,” Emily offers without lifting her gaze from her plate.
Again, my cousin doesn’t miss a beat. “That’s your thing, sweetheart. I wouldn’t wanna steal it.”
“Okay, enough,” I snap. Aaron is already on his way to his friends, laughing. I turn to Em, “What was all that about?”
She shrugs. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I pin her down with what I think is my best death stare, but she only bats her eyelids at me like the not-so-innocent friend she is and goes back to her food. Okay then.
Almost half an hour goes by with chatter around me, coming from my friends and the various crowds scattered all over the restaurant. I barely speak ten words in total. I’m thinking about how great of a job Aaron is doing at creating such a dynamic and cozy space at The Spoon when Amber’s words freeze me over for the second time tonight. “Phew, are those the guys from Inkjection over there? They’re hot as hell.”
I’m not even hungry anymore, but I stuff my mouth with a mozzarella stick just so I have an excuse to stay quiet. Luckily, Em saves me from having to add to the conversation. “Why, Amber? Interested?”
My blonde friend smirks. “I wouldn’t mind enjoying their company for a night or two. I mean… Look at them, jeez. Do you think I should shoot my shot?”
I clear my throat—it’s either that or choking on my food. I have no issues with Amber hooking up with Trey. I think they’d look quite cute together, actually. Cal, on the other hand…
Over my dead body.
He’s mine.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” I decide, keeping my gaze down as I leave the table so they can’t see the lie in my eyes.
So mature of me to pretend to need the restroom to escape an awkward conversation, I know. What can I say? I’m resourceful like that.
In all honesty, I don’t hold it against Amber to find Cal hot (who doesn’t?), but today isn’t the day to hear about it. Seeing him at The Spoon, just sitting a few tables away from me, is painful enough. Another reminder that he’s out of reach is the last thing I need right now.
My heart is a goddamn mess as I descend the stairs to the basement area of the restaurant, where the bathrooms and a single storage room are located.
Cal is my friend, one of the best I’ve ever had, and I’ll have to talk to him eventually. I want to, that’s the thing. Pure embarrassment clouds my judgment, but the longer I ignore it the worse it will get. What if he decides I’m not worthy of his time and moves on? It would be entirely my fault and—
Just as I’m closing the bathroom door behind me, a strong hand comes up above my head and holds it open. I see his reflection in the mirror in front of me, and goosebumps break out all over my skin.
“What are you doing?” My voice comes out hoarse as Cal steps in the small but clean bathroom and closes the door. Locks it. “Cal?”
“We need to talk,” he says, staring down at me with a mix of stiffness and softness that does nothing but confuse me even more.
I arch an amused eyebrow despite the tension in the air. “In a restroom?”
“I’d talk to you in the middle of a dumpster if it came to it.” The resolve in his voice makes me shiver.
I swallow. “Okay. So talk.”
He takes a step forward, his chest almost brushing mine, but I don’t move. His dark eyes see right through my soul as he half-whispers, “Tell me why you’re mad at me. Again.”
“I’m not mad at you,” I say, but we both know it’s a big fat lie.
“Don’t give me that crap,” he growls, getting closer until he hovers over me. “Tell me what the hell we’re doing, sunshine, because my patience is running thin.”
Now is definitely not the time to notice how hot he looks when he’s angry.
For a second I think of making another joke about this whole talking-in-a-bathroom situation before I take in the sternness of his face. This isn’t the right time—this is the time to put my big girl pants on and face the music, whatever the outcome might be.
‘Wherever you’re planted, bloom with grace.’ Well, I hope I can bloom somewhat graciously in The Spoon’s unisex bathroom.
“I was jealous,” I admit, my eyes never leaving his. All or nothing, right? “I didn’t know you were seeing someone.”
A shadow crosses his gaze. “I’m not,” he drops his voice. “Sophia is a family friend and a mentor, the one who introduced me to tattooing. I’ve never been with her in that way nor am I planning to.”
“Why should I believe you?” I challenge him.
Wrong move.
His hand comes around my neck, holding me tightly but not tight enough to hurt. He lowers his forehead to mine, his heavy breaths meeting my skin. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about those little moans you made while rubbing yourself on my cock, that’s why.”
My breath hitches, his possessiveness making me rub my legs together in search of that friction nothing and nobody but him can replicate.
“You didn’t want us to do it again,” I point out in a hoarse whisper.
His fingers squeeze my neck a little tighter. “You’re poking the beast, sweetheart,” he warns, but all I want is to make him lose control. “Tell me why you were jealous,” he demands.
If there’s one thing my romance novels have taught me, besides all about sex, is that keeping important things from people you care about always ends up in a big (avoidable) disaster. And I’m not ashamed to admit that books are the reason I say, “Because I want you all for myself, Cal. That’s why.”
A lifetime passes by between my last breath and the next.
My own words echo in my head, through the walls, between our bodies mere inches apart. An olive branch of sorts I’m not sure he’s going to take.
Cal’s eyes are on me, stripping my soul bare and ripping it to shreds with every moment that goes by in such deafening silence.
And then he speaks again, taking the remains of my poor heart with him.
“I’m going to kiss you right now.”
I nod.
And just like that, his lips are on mine.
My arms move on their own account, fingers tangling on the back of his head and pulling him closer while his mouth devours mine. There’s nothing tender about this kiss, a far cry from our first one—not as his rough hands leave my neck and settle firmly on my hips to press me against his chest.
His tongue melts against mine in a way that makes my knees buckle. I whimper, he groans, and suddenly his hands are on the back of my thighs, silently begging me to wrap my legs around his torso. He’s so strong I don’t even need to jump before I’m in his arms, and he’s pushing me against the door.
Cal’s muscled body is pressed even closer against mine when I feel something hard between my legs. Far from freaking out, though, it only fuels the unrestrained desire pooling low on my belly.
“Is this okay?” he asks me, panting, when he pulls away.
I can barely manage a nod before my lips find his again. Wrapping my legs around his hips even tighter, a small whimper escapes the back of my throat when the hardest part of him rolls against my center. With a grunt, Cal moves his hands under my shirt and caresses the naked skin on my back, leaving a long trail of goosebumps in his wake.
“Fuck.” He pulls away only to kiss me again. And again, and again, like he can’t get enough. “Tell me this isn’t a mistake. Tell me this feels as right to you as it does to me.”
My poor heart leaps in my chest, and I whisper, “Nothing has ever felt so right, Cal. Kiss me. Please.”
He doesn’t hesitate, not for one second, before capturing my lips between his own again. I sigh into his mouth, melting under his touch, and in that moment, I understand it’s always been him.
It’s always been Cal who I was meant to find, who I was meant to share this with.
When he pulls away and lowers me to the ground again, hands never leaving my hips, I stare into his deep orbs and see a blurry future unfold before me.
“My sunshine.” He gives me a butterfly kiss I’m afraid I’ll never recover from.
It’s hard to believe this man is real. He can’t be.
“Go back to your friends and we’ll talk later,” he says. “We’ll figure this out together, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I whisper.
“Good.” He doesn’t kiss me again. “Later.”
