Fight or Flight(43)

Patrice would just have to understand that I was too busy with work to “entertain” her guest.

My heels clacked on the tiled floor as I crossed the empty bathroom and hauled the heavy door open, but the sound stuttered as I stumbled at the sight of Caleb leaning against the opposite wall out in the corridor.

I stepped out of the restroom, letting the door swing shut behind me. Glancing left and right, I found we were alone. Slowly I returned my attention to him and felt unwanted desire thrill through me at his hungry gaze. “Hi.”

He pushed off the wall and was suddenly pressing into me, his hands braced above my head on the frame of the door behind me. His hot eyes searched my face. “Problem, Ava?”

Bewildered, I shook my head. “What?”

“Don’t lie.” His breath whispered across my lips.

Annoyance rippled through me. “Why do you care?”

“You’re overanalyzing last night. Letting it mess with your head.” He gently tapped my temple.

I smacked his hand away. “I’m not.” Liar.

He heaved a sigh in obvious frustration and dropped his arms but didn’t move back. Instead he studied me, almost curiously. “Harper. She doesn’t seem like the type of lass you’d be friends with.”

Anger flushed through me, my protectiveness toward her flaring. “What does that mean?”

He shrugged. “She’s pierced, punk, not reserved. You’re conservative—” His eyes dragged down my body. “Haughty and reserved.”

I decided there was no point in waiting to text him. I could tell him my decision now. But first … “Harper is smart, ambitious, loyal, protective, and kind. As for me, I have many flaws that I am well aware of, but I like to think that it’s exactly those good qualities we share that make us best friends. No, actually, we’re family. Not that I owe you any explanation of who I am or who she is.” When I glared up at him, I finally allowed him to see the hurt and anger his judgments were causing me. “I don’t owe you anything—and I am done.”

Caleb’s expression blanked. “With me?”

“Yeah, with you.”

“It’s just sex, babe. I keep telling you that.”

“No.” I shook my head. “It’s sex with a guy who somehow manages to make me feel this small”—I gestured with my forefinger and thumb—“every time he opens his mouth. I don’t know what it is about me that you despise so much, but it’s kind of killing my lust.” I tried to shove by him, but he wouldn’t let me, his strong hand circling my bicep tightly. “Let go.”

“And what about you?” He scowled. “How many times have you told me you dinnae even like me, that you hate me even? What do you really know about me that you can draw any real conclusion about who I am and whether I’m worthy of your like or dislike?”

I tensed. And then my shoulders slumped.

He was absolutely right.

His grip on my bicep loosened.

“You’re right,” I whispered, staring at his chest as I tried to gather the courage to meet his gaze.

“Ava.”

His tone drew my eyes to his face, where his expression had softened, a weary amusement filling his gaze. “This was supposed tae be fun.”

I let out a huff of laughter. “Sometimes it has been.”

“Well”—he gave me that arrogant smirk of his—“why don’t we agree tae agree that we dinnae know each other enough tae judge each other? I’ll quit making assumptions about you if you admit you dinnae really know me well enough tae hate me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You still want to see me while you’re in Boston? Surely it would just be easier to pick up a random woman in a bar?”

His eyes grew smoky. “Do you really think it would be the same?”

My breath caught.

He heard it and gave a small huff of self-deprecating laughter. “Hard for two people like us tae admit it, but no one else quite does it for us the way we do it for each other, right? I’m here for a few more days, then I’m back tae Scotland. So why don’t we just take advantage of this opportunity while we can. It’s all right tae be that tae each other, Ava. Tae look back and remember that Bastard Scot that gave you bloody brilliant orgasms and for me tae look back and remember the American beauty who was the best sex I ever had.”

Surprise and pleasure filled me that he would admit that, and he shook his head at my expression. “Are you gonna lie and say I’m not the best you’ve ever had?”

Usually, I would take his words for annoying overconfidence, but I knew that wasn’t how he meant them. He just knew, as I did, that sex between us was on a whole other level of epicness. Still, it discomfited me. “Well, I don’t have a lot to compare it to.”

Irritation flickered across his expression and he took a step back.

“I’m not lying,” I hurried to assure him. “I—I’ve only ever been with one other man before you.”

His eyebrows shot up. “No way.”

I blushed, feeling vulnerable and suddenly wishing I hadn’t been so honest. “Uh, yes way.”

“You told me you’d had great sex before.”

“It was great sex.”

“But ours is better.” It wasn’t a question.