Fight or Flight(74)
Leo.
Oh no.
Should I tell Caleb the truth or just—
He glanced over his shoulder in question and I knew I couldn’t ever lie to him. Not even a little white lie. He wouldn’t lie to me. “I, um … well, I actually have a date tonight.” And I wasn’t sure I wanted to cancel it. Yes, I was addicted to Caleb. But Leo was charming and a much safer option for my heart than Caleb Scott.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to relinquish that option.
Caleb turned away to concentrate on lacing up his shoes. His voice was flat as he asked, “I’m going tae assume it’s not serious yet.”
I hated the dull quality of his tone. It made my skin prickle in warning. “You assume correctly. This is technically our first date tonight. Moreover, Leo and I agreed we’re not looking for anything serious.”
He looked over his shoulder again, one eyebrow impressively raised in what I’d soon realize was disbelief. “So you’re telling me I’m not enough tae satisfy you?”
I rolled my eyes. “You know that’s not true. But I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon … or at all. I made plans and he’s a nice guy.”
“Quick work,” Caleb muttered, standing up off the bed, his back to me again.
Realizing that the warning prickle I’d felt earlier was in recognition of Caleb’s rapidly changing mood, I lay stunned. It was as if he was upset by this information. Which totally pissed me off, because I’d been trying for the last six weeks not to think about the plethora of women he’d probably already been with. And he was pissed I had a date? I seethed but kept it hidden behind a sardonic, “Are you saying you’ve been celibate for the last six weeks?”
I watched him, his back still to me, as he began to button his shirt. “I’ve been uprooting my life for the last six weeks. There wasn’t time tae find a woman.”
This surprised and warmed me. But I hated the relief that shuddered through me and I wanted him to turn around and look at me.
Instead he bit out, “I take it that means you’ve fucked other men while I’ve been gone?”
“Oh yeah.” I glared at him. “Because that sounds like me.”
His hands fell to his sides and still he didn’t turn to me. Finally, after a few tense seconds of silence, he spoke in that dull, horribly flat tone again. “Well, call me when you have time tae fit me into your busy schedule.” He turned ever so slightly, so I could just see his profile and the brittle clench of his jawline. “And if we’re both now good tae see other people, we’ll need tae get tested regularly.”
And on that rather unromantic and alarming announcement, he walked out before I could respond.
I flinched at the sound of my apartment door slamming shut. It wouldn’t surprise me to find the plasterwork cracked around the frame.
His last words reverberated around my head like a scream, and bitter tears filled my eyes. I didn’t want Caleb sleeping with other women! But I would have no right to demand that of him if I started sleeping with Leo.
Suddenly I couldn’t even picture the idea of having sex with Leo Morgan. How could I think he was even an option now that Caleb was back? I was in serious, serious denial about the state of my relationship with Caleb—I knew that. But after his cold reaction, I didn’t think I was the only one.
Groaning, I got out of bed, pulled on a robe, and wandered out to the living room, where my shoes and underwear lay on the ground. My purse with my cell was on the coffee table. Not looking forward to the task ahead, I found Leo’s number and called him.
The compulsion to speak to Caleb, to tell him I had no intention of sleeping with anyone but him in the foreseeable future, was too strong. Throughout the day, I attempted to distract myself from my mess of confused emotions. First I went for a long run. Then I texted Harper to see if she was free, but she was working since she hadn’t worked Saturday night. With that option out the window, I grabbed my sketchbook and walked to the Public Garden. I hadn’t had time to just relax and sketch in months.
Unlike Caleb’s brother Jamie, I wasn’t a painter, but I loved drawing. I’d been sketching the world around me since I was a kid, and one of my favorite things to do since moving to Boston was to find an empty bench in the gardens and lose myself in a subject. Sometimes it was the gardens themselves, but mostly I’d find a person or people who captured my attention and I’d draw them. Sometimes it was a loved-up couple whose closeness fascinated me, or a young woman sitting by the pond lost in thought. I liked to be able to soak up whatever emotion I found in them and bleed it back out through my pencil.
There was a small kind of accomplishment I enjoyed in being able to successfully transfer that emotion to the page. Plus, it relaxed me. When I was sketching, I didn’t think about anything else.
Unfortunately, I just couldn’t find a subject I felt like drawing. After an hour of wandering around, starting sketches only to scrap them minutes later, I gave up and went home.
Back at my apartment, I tried to read several different books, I cleaned the place from top to bottom, I did some grocery shopping, I cleared out clothes and shoes from my closet that I hadn’t worn in a while to donate to Goodwill. Moreover, I searched the Internet looking for a lamp I had in mind for my latest project with a young divorcée who was using part of her settlement money to redesign her new apartment in Jamaica Plains.