Em:Because you have nice arms
Shouldn’t I just wear short-sleeves then?
Em:Okay, you’re officially getting on my nerves. No, you shouldn’t. Rolled-up sleeves are hot; short-sleeved button-ups make you look like Jeffrey Dahmer
Wow, you really thought this through, didn’t you? Is that what your assignment is about? How to not dress like a sexual sadist?
Em:Fuck off. Just do as I say, and you’ll get laid. I guarantee it
Her words make my nerves go crazy. Emily doesn’t know I haven’t had sex yet. I’ve never felt the need to tell her, and she’s never asked. I inhale deeply. I refuse to let my nerves get the better of me.
I’m sure I will if I don’t find any pants
Em:Wear your gray shorts. And the gold hoop I gave you for Christmas, and your gray New Balance. You’re gonna look fucking hot. And not at all like a sexual sadist
I smile at her tirade, and my chest tightens with how much I miss Emily. Then another text appears.
Em:And don’t overthink it!
Right.That’s easier said than done.
Thanks, Em. Love you
Em:Love you too, babe. And I want details later
No chance in hell
Em:Okay, I take it back. I hate you
No, you don’t. Go do your assignment and then have boring, non-epiphanic sex with lacrosse guy
She sends me afuck offemoji. Thank God for Emily, best friend extraordinaire.
I follow her instructions, and when I’m done, I take myself in via the full-length mirror. I have to admit, Emily was right. The lavender does make my eyes pop. And with the gray shorts that show off my tanned, toned legs, it looks casual but still smart. The white tennis socks and the New Balance make me look young, but let’s be real here, Iamyoung. I can change my age just as much as Caleb can change his. It’s not like I’m dropping it on him.Oh, by the way, I’m twenty-two.He’s seen me in diapers, for fuck’s sake. Okay, abort that thought. Abort it right now. Donotthink of the fact that Caleb has seen you in diapers. That’s weird.
In the bathroom, I quickly run some scented oil through my hair to tame my curls a little. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing. I can do this. It’s Caleb. It’s just Caleb.Oh, shit, it’s Caleb.
I stand outside Caleb’s front door for what feels like minutes before I finally gather up the courage to knock. My hands are shaking, my mouth dry, and briefly, I contemplate just running back down the porch steps and getting the hell out of here. I know I teased Caleb that he doesn’t date, but the truth is, I don’t really either. I can count the dates I’ve been on in my life on one hand, and none of them ever led to anything more. I guess my heart wasn’t in it.
I hear soft padding on the other side of the door before it swings open. Caleb smiles from ear to ear the minute he seesme.
“You’re here,” he says, his cheeks ablaze, his hair all wild and so fucking sexy. His gray eyes search my face, and it feels like he’s seeing right through me, all my nerves and anxiousness.
I look away, Caleb’s socked feet suddenly the most fascinating thing ever. “I am. Hi.”
“Hi.” His voice is breathy, yet soft. When I look back up, I find his eyes trailing up and down my body, and he swallows audibly. “Fuck, you look good, K. That color…” He reaches out and brushes his fingers along the collar of my shirt. “Damn.”
I sway against him and close my eyes, breathing him in. His familiar scent wraps around me, and I harden behind my packer. Shit, I can’t start a date with Caleb half-hard. He’ll notice how flustered I am.
Caleb leans in, a low groan spilling from his lips. “Fuck, what’s that scent?” His fingers dip underneath the collar and graze my skin. Goosebumps spread across my chest and down my arms with anticipation. Shit, I’m so fucking hard just from Caleb smelling me, barely touching me.
“It’s…” I swallow, focusing on my breath. “It’s argan oil. With rosewater.”
“Rosewater, huh?” Thehuhis puffy and hot as it connects with my skin.
“Yes.” I need to focus, but it’s really hard when Caleb is panting against my neck. Because heispanting as his fingers whisper along my skin. I swallow back the saliva pooling in my mouth. I really want to kiss him again. I’ve been dying to, actually. To feel his lips against mine, his tongue teasing the outline of my mouth, begging for entrance, then tangling with mine. I push back the building desire and force myself to focus on something else. “What are you cooking?” Fuck, I hope he can’t hear the neediness.
Caleb purses his lips, his voice husky. “Uhm. Oven-baked haddock with fennel, lemon, and dill. Baby potatoes.”