Page 38 of Wolf's Chance

I’d also been sleeping better, but before, I would wake up with an image in my mind of Caleb, but now I felt the dreamsmore. I was glad he wasn’t here. I didn’t think he would appreciate knowing he had a recurring role in my head at night.

I didn’t know why I was so obsessed with him. I’d tried using a different adjective, but none of them felt right. Iwasobsessed. He was an enigma. Biting fetishes aside, he was someone I wanted to know more about. I just didn’t know how or why.

The walk was slower than I hoped. I put it down to daydreaming about wavy dirty blond hair and eyes the color of a chocolate fountain. No, that was a terrible comparison. The depth of color in his eyes was deeper than the color of milk chocolate—it was dark chocolate—but no, that wasn’t right either. It was milk chocolate with a hint of darkness. Or the other way around? Dark chocolate with a hint of lightness… Shaking my head at my nonsense, I tried to shake Caleb from my mind.

At home, I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, poured a glass of milk, and took my dinner to my studio with me, ready for an evening of painting.

The tray slipped from my hands, crashing to the floor, when I found Caleb sitting on my stool, facing the door, waiting for me.

“That will stain.”

His easy, casual demeanor and his entire indifference at being in my personal spaceagainmade me finally react.

“Stop breaking into my house!” I yelled at him, and he didn’t even so much as flinch. Stooping down, I picked up my dinner off the floor, glaring at Caleb the whole time. “Why are you here?”

“Would you believe I missed your charm?”

“Hell no.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t believe it either.” He stood up, brushing past me on his way out of the room. He returned moments later with a damp cloth. “For the floor.” He must have seen the fleeting thought of violence that I had, imagining myself shoving the cloth down his throat, because he smiled. “Feeling feisty today, aren’t you?”

“I thought I told you to leave?” Without waiting for his answer, I marched into the kitchen with my ruined dinner.

“I did leave.” He had followed me and now stood with his arms folded and his hip resting against the counter, the cloth on the counter. “I came back.” He watched me as I pretended to ignore him, dumping my sandwich in the trash and really hoping the milk wouldn’t make too much of a mess. I snatched the cloth from where he left it.

“Give me that.” Caleb held his hand out, and I placed the cleaning cloth and the paper towels I’d grabbed into his hand, careful not to touch him, hoping he wouldn’t see the tremor in my hands. If he noticed, he pretended that he didn’t.

I welcomed the brief chance to gather myself and find some semblance of composure while he cleaned my floor. It was his fault I dropped it, so it was only right he cleaned it. Huffing out a laugh, I rubbed my temples. I was being a child, and I had a man, who continually broke into my house,in my home again.

“You probably should call the police.”

Turning around quickly, I gaped at him. “Are you a mind reader now?”

“No,” he said, tossing the paper towels and the cloth in thetrash. “It’s what any sane woman who lived alone would do.” He paused as he looked me over. “Never have understood why you haven’t.”

Truthfully, neither had I.

“For all your…” I waved my hand in front of me. “That, and the general level of ‘stalkerishness’ you seem to excel in, I don’t think you would harm me.”

Caleb resumed his earlier pose of folded arms across his chest, his hip leaning on the counter. “You haven’t reported me to the cops because you think I’m good-looking?” he asked me doubtfully.

What the actual…

“What?” I knew I was gaping at him again. “No! I meant you’re all…you, but you don’t strike me as someone who would hurt me.”

He rubbed his forehead. “I don’t even understand what you say sometimes, do you know that? I cannot figure you out.”

“I’m the easiest person to figure out. It’s really not that difficult.” I felt like he insulted me, but I wasn’t sure why. “Orphan, lives alone, paints a lot, has ME. See? Done.”

“Has visions of people she’s never met.”

I gave him a flat stare. “That’s only happened with you.”

He was unimpressed. “I want to say I’m flattered, but?—”

“You’d be lying. I know. I get it. You’re Mr. Immovable.” That so wasn’t the right word, but whatever. He could deal with it. I hadhimto deal with after all. “Could you please stop breaking into my house?”

“Can’t promise.”

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