Fight or Flight(72)

Remembering what we’d just done in my friend’s private bedroom, I flushed. “Right. Well … you better let me down.”

“Pity,” he murmured.

We had exchanged very few words by the time we left Patrice’s party. Seeing my embarrassment at the idea of handing Patrice her room key back after our obvious absence, Caleb told me to wait on the lower deck while he returned it to her and made our excuses.

After a quiet cab ride to my apartment, I stared at the big Scotsman sitting on my small sofa, his suit jacket strewn across the back of it, with a coffee in his hand. I couldn’t believe how much I wanted to crawl all over him again. But there were questions to be asked and answers to be had.

“You want tae know what I’m doing back in Boston?” he said, staring up at me from under his lids in a way that told me he’d rather be rolling around in bed right now too.

Somehow I’d forgotten, in his absence, how intense our sexual connection was. I’d only ever read about this kind of attraction in books and seen it in movies. But here it was. Real. And it had an unhappy side effect of making me confuse lust for something else.

Or did it?

I couldn’t stop staring at him and it wasn’t just because I wanted to wrap my body around his.

I’d missed him.

I’d missed that sardonic smirk, his fierceness, his surprising gentleness, his honesty. He didn’t say a lot, but it made you pay attention when he did, and, moreover, most everything he said made sense. There was a blunt kindness to Caleb that I appreciated and respected. He wasn’t perfect—definitely not. Because there was also a blunt meanness to him too. He could be rude and abrupt and sometimes cuttingly honest. In saying that, I knew this wasn’t infatuation. When you were infatuated with someone, you failed to see their imperfections. When it was more than a fixation, you still cared about them in spite of their flaws. You saw past their flaws.

I saw past Caleb’s faults.

I’d never been around a man who at once made me feel emotionally secure and insecure. I would never have to guess how Caleb felt about me, because he was up front about that, no matter if his feelings disappointed me or, worse, had the ability to hurt me. And I would never have to guess if Caleb listened to me when I spoke, because I knew with one hundred percent certainty that he did listen to me. He didn’t always agree with me, but he always listened.

I liked him. A lot.

Tell him to leave, Ava, I suddenly thought to myself, as goose bumps prickled across the tops of my shoulders, as though my body sensed danger.

Yet I couldn’t open my mouth to tell him to leave, even though somehow, despite what Nick had put me through, I found myself back here again with Caleb. With my heart making too much ground against the battle with my mind.

“You’re staring,” he murmured.

“You’re staring too.”

Caleb’s mouth curved into that smirk I loved and loathed so much and he gave me a little nod of acquiescence. “True.”

Deciding I almost looked combative standing over him, I settled down on the sofa opposite him with my coffee and tucked my feet under me. “So why are you in Boston?”

“They offered me the CFO position in the Boston office.”

I’m sure I didn’t do a very good job of hiding my astonishment, but I hoped like hell I hid the awful rush of hope that swooped through me. “The guy that got fired? They offered you his job?”

“Aye. Almost as soon as I left Boston. They weren’t impressed with the other candidates and I won their trust during my time here.”

Ignoring the delighted butterflies fluttering around my belly and how confusing they were, I was glad that my voice sounded so calm, neutral when I replied, “And you said yes?”

“The North American division is the company’s biggest division, Ava. The CFO position here is a far more complicated job and as such they are offering double the wage I get back in Glasgow. It may sound like the same position, but it’s a promotion. A massive promotion and I couldn’t turn down this opportunity.”

“Your family?” How would a family that had already lost one son feel about another moving so far away?

Caleb lowered his gaze to the floor. “Aye, I’ll miss them. But I’ll be back and forth for work a lot, so I’ll get tae see them. Plus, they all want tae visit. My brother Jamie’s here already. He’s planning tae stay with me awhile, do some new work here.”

Jamie was the social media artist. I’d checked him out online. He shared no pictures of himself, just his work, and it was pretty impressive. I could see why he was so successful. His aesthetic was just different enough to catch the eye, but had a wide commercial appeal. He was a mixed-media artist and he did a lot of semiabstract portraits and landscapes.

I began to wonder if I’d get to meet Caleb’s brother and I immediately threw the thought away because it was hazardous thinking. It was overtaken, however, by an even more perilous thought.

Or feeling, rather.

A prickle of hurt.

“You’ve known you were coming back for weeks?”

A person unfamiliar with Caleb Scott might think he was unaffected by my question or the slight accusatory tone to it, but I was starting to know him. I recognized the abruptly blank expression for what it was.

Irritation.

Still, I couldn’t help but push, knowing he’d be honest, even if I didn’t like what he had to say. “You didn’t tell me because you weren’t sure you wanted to start things back up again?”