Page 46 of Unforgivable

“Wait, where are you going?” I asked, hating the slight hint of panic in my tone.

“I've gotta get home,” he bit out.

“But are you alright? Can I help at all?”

He huffed out an exasperated breath. “I'm fine. Just leave it alone. I'll catch you later.” He hurried out the front door before I could eventake a breath. I tried to imagine what kind of family emergency or apocalyptic event caused him to pull a 180 and leave me sitting there gaping like a fish.

I let out a deep, resigned sigh. Even though Cal was starting to show me a better side of himself, he was still a mystery to me, mercurial and capricious as he was captivating.

I needed to remind myself that as fast as this friendship between us had sparked, it could just as quickly flame out and leave me burned in its wake.

The doorbell rangand I found a stopping point on my paper before I ran to get it. My grocery delivery had arrived and not a minute too soon. I had fallen down the deep, dark hole of homework for seven straight hours without eating, even cutting my classes for the day to get it done. If Gran knew I was skipping school and meals, she'd tan my hide. It had been a bad habit of mine as a kid, getting too focused and lost in whatever I was doing that I sort of detached from the world for hours at a time. A couple of hard come-to-Jesus moments with Gran had snapped me out of it. Well, for the most part.

Thinking about Gran had homesickness hitting me square in the chest, and I made a mental note to call her later. Gran wasn't like most grandmothers. She was younger than most and very…quirky. We were close and I told her pretty much everything, within reason. She knew all about Connor and what I experienced with him, just without the gory details. I hadn't yet told her about Cal and our bizarre saga, which was not the norm in our relationship. It should have been second nature to call her up to process it all, but something held me back.

With the sordid history I had with bullies back home, I did worry that Gran would judge me for trying to build a friendship with Cal considering what he did and had planned for me. It was also quite possible that I didn't want to run the risk of spilling to Gran how I had all but pleaded for Cal to do dirty, bad things to me each time he…bullied me. Let's be honest, it wasn't my finest hour. Desperate and horny wasn't a great look for me.

Though it didn't seem like that would be an issue anymore if Cal continued the way he had been. He hadn't touched me since the bathroom quickie, and unless I was wildly oblivious, he wasn't throwingany more naughty vibes my way. I wasn't entirely sure I wanted him to, but…I also didn'tnotwant him to. I mean, it was something to consider. He wasverygood at it.

I hadn't heard from him since he ditched me at lunch yesterday. I grappled longer than I should have with the idea of texting him before I sucked it up and sent him a single message.

Me

Hey, just checking to see how you are. I'm here if you need a friend to talk to.

It was left on read. It probably shouldn't have stung as much as it did, but I wasn't exactly surprised either. Cal and I were still feeling out the whole friendship thing, or the “undefined, unconventional friendly” thing as he put it.What a freak.

I didn't really know where the boundaries were, but I wanted him to know I'd be there for him if he needed me. Horrifyingly enough, one glance at those smoldering eyes of his could have me on my knees faster than a Catholic in church. It probably wasn't healthy that I was that far gone seeing as how Cal used to hate my very existence, but that's what denial was for.

As if conjured from my tortured thoughts, a text from Cal lit up my phone. I ignored how sad it was that I practically tripped over my feet to get to it.

I beg you, just have a little bit of chill. Just a teaspoon! It wouldn't kill you, you hopeless oaf. Good grief.

Miscreant

Is that offer to talk still good?

Me

Yeah, of course. Wanna come over? Micah's not here and I was about to make some food.

Miscreant

Sounds good. Text me the address.

Thanks, Rhys.

My heart puttered in my chest a few seconds before I sent him my address. I was most likely overthinking things, but something about Cal reaching out to talk to me felt monumental. Knowing what I did about him, I doubted he was the kind of person who reached out to just talkto people, even his friends. My mind buzzed with the possibilities of what was going on in that beautiful head of his, but I pushed them aside and straightened my living room before he got there.

Not even ten minutes later, he knocked on my door. I didn't know what I expected, but Cal looking utterly wrecked wasn't in the top five of that list. I motioned for him to come in and he swept into the apartment, that spicy bergamot scent pricking at my nose. I had to restrain myself from inhaling deeply like a creeper.

Cal took in his surroundings, appraising my space with his back to me so I couldn't tell what he was thinking. He finally turned and gave me a soft smile, the sight of it lighting me up instantly.

“I like your place. It's cozy and inviting, you know?” he said, making his way to one of the kitchen island stools.

“Thanks,” I murmured, unsure of myself now that he was there. His presence seemed to take up the whole room, sucking out all the oxygen I needed for my brain to work properly. I fidgeted in place, trying to remember what I had been doing before Cal arrived.

I was doing something…something important. It wasn't a shower, was it? Oh God, please tell me I showered recently! No, that wasn't it…I smell fine. Maybe in the kitchen? Yeah, that sounds right. Something in the kitchen… FOOD! It was food! Score one for Rhys!

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