Page 32 of Like You Want It
CHAPTER SEVEN
CARLY
I’m working the tail end of a split shift when Caleb strolls in to The Steam Room, and I can’t help it when my mouth drops open.
I would have to really search my memory to remember the last time Caleb visited me at work. Probably when I was in high school and he brought a date here.
I roll my eyes. He did it so they could have free drinks.
What a little shit.
I wipe down the counter and give him a smile. As genuine as I’m trying to be right now, the thread of pain from our last conversation is definitely making it difficult.
It has been – I quickly do some math in my head – five days since my confrontation with Caleb in his office. To be honest, I didn’t expect him to come see me. Because as great as he can be, he’s a man who finds it very easy to place responsibility on others.
“What can I get you?” I ask when he steps up to the counter, dropping the rag and walking to the register. “Latte?”
“Hey. Yeah. That sounds good.”
He looks uncomfortable, which is another unfamiliar thing to see. My brother, while not the most confident or egotistical man in the world, seems unbothered by most things in life. He doesn’t get upset when people cry. He doesn’t seem shocked by the weird things people say. And he definitely, definitely, isn’t a man who gets uncomfortable at the idea of seeing or talking to someone. Anyone, let alone a person he is having issues with.
I go about making his latte, pulling the shot then steaming the milk. He doesn’t say anything, which is fine, since I also can’t think of anything to say to him.
Once I’m done, I make a little leaf in the top of it, and pass it across the counter.
He gets out his wallet but I shake my head. “On me.”
He protests.
“Caleb,” I interrupt, “how many times have you bought stuff for me over the years? I can give you a cup of coffee.”
He sighs then picks up his cup and takes a tentative sip, wiping his lip with his thumb when he’s done and glancing around the nearly empty shop.
“You’re almost done?” he asks.
I nod. “I’ll be done in thirty minutes.”
He bobs his head. “I’ll be over here. When you’re done, can we get dinner?”
My brows pinch together. I can’t remember the last time Caleb and I had a meal just the two of us. We’re either having a dinner at our dads during my monthly verbal flogging, or sitting awkwardly at dinner with Christine, who barely says a word to me.
My visit last week to his office isn’t the typical occurrence, which is why he was so surprised to see me. I used to visit him all the time, but that changed when… well, when his life changed.
“Uhm…” I laugh uncomfortably. “I actually already have plans tonight.”
Calebs eyes focus on his cup and he just bobs his head again.
“But I can reschedule them. Not a problem.”
I don’t know where that came from, this need to see what’s going on with my brother, to accommodate him when he never, ever accommodates me.
Maybe it stems from the feelings I had as a kid, the ones that made me want his approval so bad. Not my dad’s. Just Caleb’s.
Who knows?
But when I see his eyes light up about grabbing dinner, I smile at him. And this time, it really is genuine. Without the thread of hurt and harmful words.
“Alright. I’ll just be over here.”
