Page 8 of A Pretty Fixation

I try to pull away, but Caleb strengthens hisgrip. “Why are you pretending not to know me?”

“I’m not pretending.” I make another attempt topry my hand free. “Stop it.”

“I don’t know what happened, but I won’t let youforget me, Dove.” He peers up with a serious expression. “Not me.”

I stagger back when he finally releases me. ThoughI was pulling away, my hand is now twitching for his touch again.

Blinking out of the odd sensation, I grate, “Justpay and leave, or I’ll call my manager.”

Caleb huffs and leans forward to slide his phoneout of his pocket, taking a credit card from the wallet-like case.

He sticks it inside the bill, and I quicklycollect it.

I’ve never rung up anyone’s payment that fast. Iwant him away from me. He’s akin to a sharp needle, dangerously pricking myskin. My body’s reaction to him frightens me.

Returning to the table, I hand Caleb his card andreceipt, then state habitually, “Thanks for dining with us. Enjoy the rest ofyour night.”

“Actually.” He places the card back into theleather phone case and secures it inside his pocket. “Want to hang out once youget off work?”

“No,” I answer fast, though a part of me wants to.

Caleb sniffs, grabs the pen, and signs thereceipt. “I’m not going away, Jordyn. You have no idea how much I’ve missedyou.” He glides over me and licks his lips, brazen desire in his ashen-grayeyes. “Seeing you now, all grown up….” A low, dirty growl follows. “I’m goingto make you mine.”

A gasp whooshes out of me. I hold on to composureand say firmly, “I’m not interested.”

“I’ll change your mind.”

“I doubt that. Besides, you’re not my type.”

He smirks. “What makes you say that?”

“You seem annoyingly persistent.” I fold my armsand lean to one side. “That’s a turn-off.” Secretly, it gives me a twistedrush.

“Hm.” He narrows his gaze. “Don’t worry. I’ll findways to turn you on.”

I cringe at his crudeness and point to the door.“Leave. Now.”

Seemingly amused, his cocky grin returns. “I saidI’m not backing down, Dove.”

“Christ.” I draw air through my teeth. “Look, Itold you, I’m not—”

“You are,” he cuts me off and straightens from thechair. He eyes his friend’s cash on the table. “That’s for you.”

“Don’t,” I dispute. “That’s too much.”

“It’s for the great food and service.” He followsthat with a flirty wink.

“Pfft. Don’t give me special treatment. It won’tmake me warm up to you.”

Caleb smooths out his shirt over his jeans. “I’llhave you remembering and making new memories.” His bold words leave mespeechless. “That’s a promise.”

After another smile, he heads for the exit,pausing to glance back at me. “It’s so good to see you again, Dove.”

With that, he steps outside, looking back oncebefore disappearing down the sidewalk.

Dove.That name cloaks me in a mist ofsadness.

My eyes fall shut on their own, wanting me to goback. Take a peek. But the walls strengthen and push me out. The defenses aredoing their job and protecting me from the pain.

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