Page 43 of Shameless With Him

Because I could never tell what was going on with Zoey. Even though I really wanted to.

“That was a nice baby shower,” Zoey put in when we were almost home.

“It’s so strange that Dimitri is going to be a dad now. In my head, he’s sort of always been one, even though he’s not even a little bit.”

“Right? He has those dad qualities. He’s really good at the dad jokes.”

“I’m pretty sure he gets those off the internet.”

“But the fact that he looks them up at all is a dad thing.”

“Okay, I can agree with that.”

“Caleb?” Zoey asked, and my hands tightened on the steering wheel at the way she said my name. Hell, I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like where the rest of this conversation was headed.

“Yes?”

“What are we doing?” she asked, and I swallowed hard. Yep, I really didn’t want to have this conversation.

“I’m driving you home.” I got off the highway and headed towards her neighborhood.

“Yes, you are. But I was sort of talking about the kisses at my house, and the fact that we practically humped each other in my mother’s bathroom. I think we should probably talk about what’s going on.”

I shook my head. “We’re just…you know…being good friends.”

“Good friends really don’t know how their dick feels against someone.”

“Well, I don’t tend to think about that, but thanks for that image.”

She snorted. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I don’t know, Zoey. I like kissing you. Is that a crime?”

“Not at all. I just don’t know what happens next. And I think we should talk about what happens next, shouldn’t we?”

I frowned as I pulled into her driveway. “Zoey.”

She shook her head and got out of the car. “Forget I asked. Seriously. Forget it. I’ll see you later.”

I cursed under my breath, turned off my car, and followed her. “Okay, let’s talk this out.”

She had her keys in her hand but was shaking her head. “No, I don’t think we need to. We’re fine. Let’s just not talk about it at all. I’ll see you later.”

She had her hand on the door, and I put my hand above her on the jamb. “Zoey. Let’s talk it out.”

“I don’t think you need to. I don’t think I want to know the answer.”

I hated the fragility in her voice, and I loathed myself for putting it there. “Come on, let’s go inside,” I whispered. She turned and looked at me, her gaze searching. I wanted to be man enough to say no, that we shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t go in and talk to her. I should walk away. But I wasn’t. Because I didn’t know the answers, and I wanted to go inside. I wanted to touch her, wanted to kiss her, wanted to see what made her tick. That might make me a bastard, but at least I was a consistent one when it came to Zoey.

“Just to talk?” she whispered.

I swallowed hard.

“Just to talk,” I lied.

Just to talk.

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