Fight or Flight(80)

“If you’re heading into the kitchen for a beer, you’ll be an even better one if you bring us one too.”

“I’m working,” Jamie called to us, having disappeared out of sight. “So I’m on water.”

I glanced at the open doorway of his room, but all I could see was the head of a bed and a nightstand. Curiosity was compelling me to get up and have a wander into the room, but my good manners quelled the compulsion.

“He won’t let me in either,” Caleb said quietly, having noted my interest. “He keeps his work private until it’s finished.”

“He has a huge social media following,” I said, as if that explained my curiosity.

“I do.” Jamie appeared from out of the kitchen. “And I have great hearing.” He handed us beers and kept hold of the bottle of water in his hand. He pinned me to the sofa with his ice blue gaze. I found it remarkable that two brothers could have identical beautiful eyes and yet only one of them made my heart flutter when he focused on me.

“You been stalking me, Miss Breevort?” Jamie teased.

The upside to hanging out with Caleb as a friend was that Jamie was around in the background during most of those times and he’d gotten to spend a little time with me. Although I still sensed his hesitancy with me, for whatever weird reason (Carissa?), he was at least congenial enough now.

And on that Carissa note, I still had no idea who she was or what lesson she’d taught Caleb.

“I was curious.” I shrugged. “And you have over half a million Instagram followers. That’s pretty impressive.”

“Plus, Ava sketches,” Caleb offered. I’d left my sketchbook out on the coffee table a week ago and nosy Caleb had taken a peek. Admittedly, I’d flushed with pleasure at his praise for my drawings. “She’s good. You should check them out.”

I tried to ignore the warmth his words caused in my chest. “They’re nothing like your paintings. I just … doodle.”

“They’re more than doodles.”

“I didn’t know you were into art.” Jamie studied me curiously.

I stopped myself from responding that he didn’t know anything about me because he refused to ask. Instead I said, “I went to art school. Interior design.”

“Oh, right, of course. I dropped out of art school.”

“Not that it did him any harm. Jamie’s got an exhibit coming up in New York,” Caleb said, smirking at his brother, but it was a proud smirk. I could tell. And it made my insides mushy.

Jamie flicked his brother an amused but pleased look. “What can I say … I’m a genius.”

Caleb chuckled, shaking his head at him. And with one last look at me, Jamie wandered back to his room.

“And modest too.” I turned to his big brother. “A self-portrait next, I think. Titled Genius.”

Caleb grunted, his lips quirking up at the corners.

“I heard that,” Jamie grumbled before slamming the door shut behind him.

“Just when he was starting to like me.” I took a swig of my beer as I felt a hand on my naked thigh. We were having an extremely warm June and so I was still in the shorts and T-shirt I’d put on to wander around Back Bay in the sun earlier that day. I followed the length of his arm all the way up to its owner’s face.

Mirth danced in Caleb’s gaze. “Do you really want tae watch the movie?”

“I thought you wanted to watch the movie?”

His big hand caressed my skin, his fingers disappearing under the hem of my shorts. “You’re being cute. So now I dinnae want tae watch the movie,” he whispered, the amusement giving away to heat.

“I wasn’t being cute.” I leaned toward him. “You just have a one-track—” My phone began to vibrate on the coffee table, cutting me off.

Harper’s name flashed on the screen.

Caleb saw. “Call her back later.”

But I couldn’t.

These last four weeks had been strained between me and my best friend. My uncertainty over her boyfriend meant she was avoiding me, and I didn’t know how to make things right. I felt like I was forcing her to have lunch or drinks with me because when we were together she barely laughed and she seemed on edge, afraid, I think, that I’d ask about Vince.

I didn’t ask about Vince because I just wanted my best friend back.

This was the first time in weeks that Harper had initiated contact.

Caleb knew all this because I’d confessed my concerns. He saw the look on my face. “You better answer it, then.”

I grabbed the phone and answered it on a breathless “Hey.” My heart had started racing a little with relief.

“Ava?”

My blood chilled instantly at the garbled way Harper said my name.

“Harper?”

“Ava,” her voice croaked. “I’m … I’m in trouble.” And then I heard the soft whimpers of her crying, and fear slammed into me.

My eyes flew to Caleb, whose gaze turned questioning. “Harper, where are you? What’s going on?” He leaned toward me at the urgency in my voice.

“I’m in my apartment.” She sobbed and then coughed, spluttering in a way that made me feel sick as I seemed to intuit what she was about to tell me. “Vince attacked me. He’s barricaded me in my bedroom. I managed to grab my phone and hide it on me before he threw me in here. He’s out in the living room. He’s …” She started to cry, soft, heartbreaking cries that brought tears to my own eyes. “He’s high on something.”