Page 36 of A Pretty Fixation

Caleb strengthens his grip. “Something insidemakes you feel comfortable with me. That’s why you’re not running away.”

“No.” There’s no firmness in my tone. “I justdidn’t want to pass up on Smashburger, especially since you’re buying and I cansave my money.”

He snorts, and it’s a battle to stifle a moan ashe caresses my fingers with his thumb. “Know what I see in your eyes, Jordyn?Traces of the trust you had in me. That’s why I can’t back off. It’s alreadyproven you don’t want me to.”

Our surroundings fade as he traps me in hisriveting gaze. The desire to stay resonates until a voice breaks through.

Not her.

I pull my hand back and look away from him.

Caleb only chuckles under his breath.

“Tell me more,” he says, about to finish hisburger. “Favorite moments from high school.”

Talking to him does feel good. So why not. “Thereare many. Camping trips. Pranks. Dances. Plays.”

“You were in school plays?” he confirms, crumplinghis empty wrapper.

“Yes. Well, all my roles were small, but I madesure to shine even if my time on stage was always ten seconds or less.”

Caleb bursts out laughing, only to quickly stifleit when I glare at him. “I’m sure you’re a great actress.”

I sniff. “Honestly, I can’t act to save a life. Ithink our play director felt sorry for me and made me an extra each time.”

“Look on the bright side. At least your name wasin the credits.”

“True.”

I can’t believe he’s made me laugh.

The thought settles me down, and I break eyecontact again.

“Keep talking,” Caleb says in a soft tone. “Ask meanything.”

“Um, why architecture?” I turn to him. “Is thatsomething you’ve liked since you were a kid?”

He pulls his brows together as if I should alreadyknow. Then he blinks it away and tells me, “Soccer was all I thought about as akid. My adopted dad’s an architect with his own company. He inspired me to giveit a shot. But…” The heavy sigh that follows troubles me.

“But?” I repeat. He has me curious now.

It doesn’t take long for him to speak again. “I’vebeen thinking more about going pro after college instead of working with my dadlike I said I would.”

“You seem to love soccer. Sometimes we have totrust our gut and go after what we truly want.”

“Hm.” He wrings his hands.

Recalling the videos on the college’s website, Igrumble, “You should probably get better reels if you want pro clubs toconsider you seriously.”

Caleb turns his head to look at me. “Betterreels?”

I pick at my empty wrapper. “Well, the currentones seem like groupies shot them. All I hear are screaming girls, and theybarely show your skills. That’s if you have any.”

He narrows his eyes, and my breath hitches. Hisgaze is always so intense. It’s as if I’m the only one in his world, and thatgives me a great sense of power.

“While I like that you checked my reels, I can’thelp but notice you seem bothered by the screaming girls.” He tilts a brow.

“Whatever.” I shift on the bench. “I’m not.”

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