Fight or Flight(66)

Disappointment flooded me anew to realize they were leaving. “Oh, okay. Have a wonderful trip.”

“Thank ye,” they said as they left.

Harper practically had to haul me onto a stool before someone else could take it, because I was busy staring after the Scottish couple, pining.

It had been six weeks since I’d heard the accent.

Six weeks since I’d heard his voice.

Well, I best be off,” Caleb said suddenly.

We were lying in my bed, staring up at the ceiling, taking time to catch our breaths after enjoying a couple of rounds of our usual epic sex. There had been no soft kisses or sweet touches this time, as if we were both mindful that we had to keep this as it should be or it might feel like a tender good-bye.

“Yeah,” I answered, even though there was still a part of me that wanted to reach across the bed and ask him to stay. I squashed that part, reminding myself exactly why that was a bad idea. Plus, I didn’t really know Caleb. Not well enough to feel any real kind of attachment.

Liar.

The ache in my chest as he got out of bed and began to dress was entirely misplaced and it was making me angry.

He finally looked at me once he was done lacing his boots. His expression revealed nothing of his emotions. “I’ll call you, then, when I visit again?”

“Sure. I’d like that.”

Caleb suddenly frowned, hesitating, seeming almost unsure. Then finally he bent over, putting his hands to the mattress, and he kissed me. It was soft, sweet. Filled with affection.

And I had to force away the sudden burn of tears in the back of my eyes.

He brushed his mouth over mine one last time and then pulled back to stare into my eyes. I couldn’t read his searching gaze, enigmatic as always. I did my best to keep my expression neutral.

“Good-bye, Ava,” he said, his voice low and hoarse.

Once more I fought those goddamn tears, masking them with a smile I hoped was both cheeky and affectionate. “Bye, my Bastard Scot.”

He grinned, kissed the tip of my nose, and pushed away from the bed. I made to move, to see him out, but he waved me back down. “Stay. Sleep. You’re up early.”

Thinking he was probably right, I lowered my back to the bed. “Safe travels.”

He nodded, reached down to switch off my bedside lamp, and then I watched the shadow of his figure leave my bedroom.

There was a minute of no noise and then I heard my apartment door shut with a loud click that told me he’d put the lock (or the snib, as he so cutely called it) on.

I tried to sleep knowing it was too early to get up.

However, my mind wouldn’t let me. Instead it just kept replaying every moment with Caleb Scott over and over again. Every kiss, every wicked smile, and the fierce tenderness in his gaze when I told him about Nick and Gem.

Even though I felt betrayed by the tears, like my heart was a traitor to my mind, I couldn’t stop myself from crying. That night my heart won a battle.

But when my alarm went off and I got up to get ready for my trip to Nantucket, my mind sought control again and was triumphant.

Caleb Scott was just a fun memory and he’d remain that way. There was no way I would make our dalliance out to be more than it was. Resolved, ignoring the disquiet and unease that sat in the pit of my stomach, I strolled out into my living area to make coffee and was startled at the sight of what had been placed next to the coffee machine.

There was a velvet box sitting next to it, along with a note. My hands shook as I reached for the note first.

In Caleb’s big, masculine scrawl were the words:

You deserve only good memories. Caleb.



Heart pounding, I dropped the note and picked up the velvet box. Prying it open, I let out a little gasp at the item that sparkled and winked under my kitchen lights. Lying on black velvet was the most beautiful diamond tennis bracelet. The one Nick had given me was demure, the diamonds small in a traditional square-cut claw. Caleb’s platinum tennis bracelet was more modern, with larger round-cut diamonds. Okay, wow.

I could barely breathe, I was so overwhelmed by the gift. I picked up his note again.

You deserve only good memories. Caleb.



I couldn’t believe he remembered the detail about that damn tennis bracelet. It was so thoughtful. So romantic.

So not what we were.

It didn’t make sense.

I turned, slumping back against my counter as I tried to interpret what the gift meant.

And then something horrible occurred to me.

What if this was like … payment? What if Caleb was basically saying, Hey, thanks for the great sex—have some diamonds on me? I glowered down at the bracelet. That bastard.

“Argh.” I huffed. That didn’t seem like Caleb either.

“… I genuinely like you, and I dinnae mind us having a friendship between us if you dinnae. As long as we both know that is all this is.”

The memory of his words came flooding back.

“… when we talked about being friends, we both meant that too. We can handle it. So I made up my mind that you’re my friend, Ava. And I’m worried about my friend.”

I was Caleb’s friend. He really meant that. I looked down at the bracelet and decided that was what I’d see in this expensive gift. A friend giving me something beautiful to replace a bad memory.

And just like that, my mind had to battle harder than ever to win the war my heart wanted to wage.