Page 11 of Wreck Me

She did, spinning on her heel with a small pep in her step I couldn’t ignore, giving me the most perfect view of her ass as she led me to her apartment.

CHAPTEREIGHT

“Well, it’s safe to say it’s inedible,” Caleb said as he pushed burnt hot dogs into the trash can. A flurry of black char floated into the air as they rolled off the plate he held.

I laughed as they made a soft thump into the bottom of the trash. “I don’t know how you forgot about them!”

Caleb had insisted on cooking the hot dogs in a skillet with oil to crisp them up, claiming they were way better than when you boiled them. I inwardly shuddered as he explained his reasoning. Hot dogs grossed me out, but I was prepared to suck it up and eat one.

“I do. It’s your fault.”

“My fault?” I questioned innocently, turning back to stir the pot of pasta. It was the type you just added some milk and a seasoning packet to once the noodles were cooked. A step up from mac and cheese. A little more sophisticated—or at least that’s what I was telling myself as I silently prayed it wouldn’t boil over and burn too.

My breathing hitched when Caleb’s body pressed against mine. I hadn’t heard him move toward me and suddenly I felt him everywhere, making it a struggle to simply fill my lungs with air. His hands brushed down my shoulders and situated on the outside of my upper arms, before he reached out and pulled my hair aside, exposing the right side of my neck.

Leaning in closer, his mouth grazed the shell of my ear. “I’m having a hard time not touching you right now. I’m trying to be a gentleman, to treat you respectfully. But right now, all I want to do is shove you to your knees and disrespect the fuck out of you.”

I stopped stirring the pasta, abandoning the wooden spoon in the boiling water. Spinning, I faced him and tilted my head to look into his eyes just as he dipped his head down lower. Our noses brushed together, our breath mingling. My heart raced and threatened to run right out of my rib cage.

“What’s stopping you?” My voice was barely audible as I swallowed down a lump that had formed in my throat.

He rubbed his nose lightly against mine, his lips slightly parted as he caught the air I was expelling. My eyes shut in anticipation, and I tried to control the way the arousal was sparking through my body, sending tingles throughout.

“You deserve better than me. I plan to give you better.”

Sexual tension filled the air and I was so tempted to close the almost nonexistent distance between us and press my lips to his. We both stayed unmoving, in the moment as time ticked by, and with each passing second, more magnetism pulsed between us.

Rising up on my tiptoes, my eyes fluttered closed as I seemed to move in slow motion toward him. I couldfeelour lips about to meet when the sizzle of water boiling over startled us both, pulling us from the moment. Caleb took a step back, giving me space to turn, as I turned my attention to the stove. A plume of steam had risen up into the range hood, and I lifted the pot quickly to remove it from the heat.

“Shit,” I muttered to myself, setting the pot on the neighboring burner and grabbing the towel hanging from the oven’s handle. A foamy liquid had already started to burn onto the glass stovetop, and I knew it’d be a complete bitch to clean. “We’re disastrous chefs.”

“This is why I only buy pre-made crap,” Caleb said, chuckling to himself as he ran a dish towel under a stream of water. He rang it out and handed it to me so I could better clean up the mess. “Do you want to order a pizza instead?”

“Hell yes. My treat, since you bought all the groceries. But, I’m also going to finish this pasta since it’s almost done. We can eat it too, or I’ll save it for dinner tomorrow.”

“Sounds good, Starlight,” he told me, pressing a kiss to my hair. “What do you like on your pizza?”

“Pepperoni and black olives.”

He outwardly shuddered, clearly poking fun at my expense. “Black olives? Gross. You just lost a few points in my book, but we’ll see if you can’t redeem them later.” Reaching into his back pocket, Caleb pulled out his cell phone.

Thank goodness for technology and the ability to order food at the touch of a few buttons.

* * *

My small Ikeacoffee table was littered with the trash from our impromptu pizza and movie night, and I sank back into my couch in a lazy food coma as the closing credits rolled from the rom-com we had just watched. The night turned out to be unexpectedly perfect. Spending time with Caleb felt as natural as breathing, yet there was something so closed off about him, so guarded. I couldn’t pinpoint what and I suspected he wouldn’t be revealing it anytime soon, but I desperately wanted to know the piece of him he was keeping hidden.

It was unreal to believe this was our first time hanging out. In our few interactions, it felt like so much had happened between us, and I was finding it hard to comprehend exactly how it felt so easy to be in his presence. There was so much I didn’t know about him—so much he didn’t know about me.

I ached to dive in and start asking him tons of questions about himself, wanting to absorb any bit of information he’d give me, but instead, I decided it was probably better to keep the conversation light. “So, was it as bad as you thought it’d be?”

Caleb laughed at my question. He put up the most pathetic protest on not wanting to watchThe Proposal, giving in to my request almost immediately. “My favorite part was the chick chanting Lil’ John lyrics with the guy's grandma around the bonfire. That was hilarious.”

“That's my favorite part too,” I told him, turning slightly on the couch so I could face him better. “I’ll admit, I actually channel my inner Sandra Bullock and Betty White whenever I’m having a bad day. It always makes me laugh and helps improve my mood.”

“Maybe I should give it a try. I have a lot of days where my mood could use some improvement.” Caleb’s face darkened, and he looked down at his lap. I could feel the energy change, becoming raw, like an open wound.

It clawed at me, making my empathetic heart bleed for him. “I know we don’t know each other well, but you can trust me, Caleb. If you need someone to talk to—a friend—I’m here. I’m a pretty good listener.” I reached out and placed my hand on his.

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