His eyebrow arches as his eyes flick to my mouth.
“Arrangement?”
“Yes,” I say, and I hear him bark out a disbelieving laugh.
“You for real? You were the one to call it off. Think I recall you saying it wasfor the best,” he says, his fingers making air quotes.
I clear my throat and shift on my feet, feeling suddenly ashamed. Shy. Like a terrible fucking person. I hate being wrong. I hate how it sits inside of me like something sharp and heavy. And since meeting him, I’ve been wrong every damn day. He drags out uncomfortable truths from me every time he’s near me.
I loathe it.
I crave it.
For the first time in my life, I feel honest.
“I was mistaken.”
“Oh, is that so?” he says dryly.
“Yes.”
When he says nothing, I try again. “So, can we please just go home now?”
“And just leave Mal and Bree here?”
“You can text them.”
“We just got here.”
“I’m sure they will understand.”
“What if I don’t want to go home with you?”
I meet his gaze and tilt my head slightly, and then I do something I know I won’t regret. I take a step toward him—slow, deliberate—closing the space between us. His back hits the Jeep with a soft thud, and I press against him, feeling his cock harden against me.
Reaching down, I touch it and watch as his beautiful eyes flutter closed.
“I think you do,” I say softly, and then reluctantly step away from him.
He pouts adorably and then murmurs “fine” before hopping up into his Jeep without another word.
As he twists the key in the ignition, he pulls out his phone and texts someone—probably Mal or Bree.
I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into, but watching him go off with someone else made me want to flip tables. I’m not proud of it either. But the jealousy hit fast and hard, a fist to my chest.
So, here we are, driving back to our apartment in complete silence. And when we’re in the living room, Caleb turns toward me.
“So, what now, huh?” he asks, his expression guarded, like he’s bracing for impact.
My eyes rove across his body, and I ask, “What would you like, Caleb?”
He runs a hand through his hair and scoffs, “I cannot believe this. I’m so stupid.”
My chest twists. “You’re not.”
“I am. I ditched my friends and my plans tocome home with you, and you won’t even say whatyouwant.” He runs a hand down his face. “I’m going back. What the hell am I doing here with you?”
But I can’t let him leave, not after I’ve given up so much for him already. It shouldn’t matter, he shouldn’t matter this much, but for some reason, he does, so I reach out and grab on to his wrist.