Fight or Flight(42)

She grinned. “You too.”

Her grin gave away too much about her knowledge of him and he shot me an entertained, knowing smile. “Lunch break?”

I nodded. “We both work long hours. We grab time together when we can.”

“I look forward tae trying your food, Harper.”

Who was this charming guy?

“I can promise you’ll like it,” she said confidently, making him grin at her in a way he never smiled at me. “Where in Scotland are you from?”

I hadn’t asked him that. I was too afraid to ask him anything because we weren’t about that.

Caleb was unruffled. “I live in Glasgow, but I grew up in a wee place in central Scotland. Linlithgow. It’s not far from Edinburgh.”

“I’ve always wanted to visit. Ava and I try to travel somewhere once a year, and Scotland’s on our bucket list.”

Stop telling him things about me. I threw her a tight smile, which she ignored.

“Well, call me biased, but I’d recommend visiting it over any other country.”

“Straight to the top of the list, then. So you here with your work people?” She gestured behind him.

“Lunch meeting, aye.” He frowned distractedly.

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him what was wrong, but I stopped myself.

That wasn’t what we were.

His gaze moved to me, the frown only deepening. “I’d best get back.”

“Sure,” I said casually, as if I didn’t care one way or the other.

Caleb’s frown turned to a full-on scowl. “See you later, then. Harper, it was nice tae meet you.”

“You too. We should all have drinks together while you’re in Boston.”

He nodded but didn’t give her a definite answer (thank God) before he shot me one last enigmatic look and turned around.

As he was walking away, Harper huffed. “Rude? Really? Because I found him perfectly charming.”

I cut her a look. “He’s not normally like that. Although … he was like that with Patrice.” A bitter chuckle of realization escaped me. “He’s only a shit to me.”

“You’re right about the way he looks at you,” she mused. “When he first came over he looked almost happy to see you … and then …”

“And then?”

“Pissed off at you.” She rested her fist on her chin. “But it could have been because you were as warm as a frozen waffle to him.”

“I wasn’t that bad.”

“You were cooler toward him than I’ve ever seen you toward anyone. Even to the many men you’ve shot down in the past.”

“I’m protecting myself,” I admitted. “I don’t see what is so wrong about that.”

“Well, have you thought that maybe he’s reacting to your coldness by being cold in return?”

I thought of last night, lying vulnerable beside him on the hotel bed. There was nothing cold about me then. I was feeling playful even. And then he’d told me in that sharp, resentful tone that I wasn’t his type, that everything about me was the opposite of what he really wanted.

“No. His defenses were up before mine ever were.” I smiled sadly at her. “He said something to me last night that hurt. I told him I hated him. Do you know what his reply was?”

My friend’s concern was back. “What?”

“He said, ‘Good.’ ”

“Okay.” Harper shook her head. “I was momentarily charmed by the whole sexy accent and that body, but if I was telling the same story to you, you would tell me that it sounded super unhealthy, right?”

I heaved a sigh. “Right.”

“Babe, I have to get back to work. Lunch is on me.” She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “But I expect that the next time we talk you’ll have called this”—she gestured over to him—“off.”

She was right.

She was totally, totally right. I just had to ignore the way my body clenched in agitation at the thought. “Right.”

“Okay, good. We’ll talk.” She threw me a loving smile and got out of the booth, heading toward the back of the restaurant.

Feeling a little shaky and not really knowing why, I grabbed my purse, left a tip on the table for the server, and got out of the booth without looking at Caleb. I would have to pass him, but I decided to delay it by visiting the ladies’ restroom first. It was down a low-lit, brick-walled passage at the back of the restaurant.

Inside, I stared at my reflection as I was washing my hands. I looked a little pale. Dark circles were beginning to bruise under my eyes from my lack of eight hours’ sleep the night before. But more than that, I looked melancholy. Harper was right. The shadows were still there.

My gaze lowered, unable to bear the fact that I couldn’t hide it. How could Caleb not see that when he was with me? Or did he just not care? And why would I want him to consider my feelings? That was never what we were supposed to be about.

A shuddering sigh escaped me as my decision formed into resolve. This was really why I wanted to talk to Harper: because I knew she’d be honest with me. And she’d tell me to do what was best for me, even if it went against her adventurous nature and personal philosophy.

I would call Caleb later to tell him our interludes were officially over.