Page 23 of Drive Me Wild
“You heading out?”
“Yeah, I’m going to grab some lunch and then go home.”
“See you tomorrow?”
“Same time, same channel!”
I wave goodbye and slip out the side door to my car, which is parked in the alley behind his garage. I head to the sandwich shop a few blocks down to get something to eat and keep up appearances.
Althoughno onehas noticed so far that I’m working around town. Maybe it’s silly that I keep up this ruse. Especially becauseCaleb doesn’t seem to be the guy everyone paints him to be. He’s been generous and a gentleman to me, and I feel the urge to fight the gossip.
To show them he’s a good man.
The next couple of days play out the same way. I make an appearance at The Daily Dose, park in the back alley, and sneak up to his apartment. I work online half the day, go back out for lunch, head home to finish any offline work, eat, read, and sleep.
I wake up late on Friday and don’t go to the diner. Instead, I slip into his apartment and finish some social media campaigns. After an hour or so, I notice a headache coming on, so I check his kitchen for some Tylenol or Aspirin. Nothing.
I rummage through the mirrored medicine cabinet in the bathroom and come up empty. The only place left is the cupboard under the bathroom sink. I open it up and find two things. The headache medicine and a jumbo pack of condoms.
I grab the medicine and try not to think about the box of condoms. The box says there’s one hundred in there, and I don’t want to know how many are left.
I pop a pill in my mouth and turn on the water in the sink, bending down to drink straight out of the faucet.
“I’ve got glasses in the kitchen, you know.”
My head whips up so fast I hit it on the bottom of the medicine cabinet.
“Ouch, fuck!”
Caleb rushes toward me and wraps an arm around my waist, helping me sit on the tub’s edge. When he pulls away, I can still feel his touch on my skin, burning like a fresh tattoo.
“You need to quit hitting your head so much.”
“Where did you come from?”
“I live here, remember?”
“No, I mean, I didn’t hear you come up the stairs.”
“Oh. Sorry. The teenager accidentally kicked over a can of used oil, and it got all over my boots. I took them off and walked up here in my socks to get another pair. Want some ice?”
I look up at him and feel a rush of warmth in my belly. He is looking at me with such concern and tenderness in his eyes. It makes me wonder if all the women he uses those condoms with get to see this side of him.
“Ice would be great. Thank you.”
He fetches some from the kitchen, wrapped in a dishtowel. When he returns, he sits with me on the tub’s edge and pulls my hand away to apply the ice.
“Looks like a painful scrape, but there’s no blood.”
“Thanks.”
Caleb is sitting close enough to me that our knees are touching as he presses the ice to my head. The warmth of being that close to his thick thighs starts working its way up my leg, and I bite my lip to try and distract myself.
It doesn’t work.
If I weren’t looking for my ‘forever man,’ I’d be hanging a vacancy sign over my vag right now. But the thing is, I know I’m not experienced enough for Caleb. He’d probably laugh me out of the bedroom. And I’m too scared to start dating anyone before I figure out how to be good in bed.
All this thinking about sex and my lack of ability is doing a number on my mind.
