Page 40

CALEB/AMELIA

CALEB

My sister’s sitting along the water, looking deep in thought as her fingers tremble. I tilt my head, confused, walking over to her.

“Hey, you good?” I lightly smack her arm, dropping down beside her. “Where’s Amir?”

“He’s returning the paddle boards.” Tia says inhaling a deep breath. “I’m just thinking about the wedding. I want it to be perfect.”

“And it will be,” I reassure her.

“For how long though? How long until dad makes you want to pull your hair out?”

Tia never fully understood how much our father’s words truly affected me growing up, and how much it still does even though I try to brush it off.

And honestly, I don’t want her to. There’s a reason for it.

She sees him in a way I never could. To her, he’s the man who showed up to every field trip with packed snacks, took her on shopping sprees when she brought home a good report card, who beamed with pride when she got into college. That’s the dad she knows. The dad I wish I had.

I rest a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as my expression grows serious. “He knows how much this means to you. He won’t mess it up again.”

“Yeah, I guess.” She offers a fragile smile as tears well up in her eyes.

“Stop doing that.”

She sniffs, blinking with unshed tears. “I’m not doing anything.”

I reach out, brushing my thumbs against the corners of her eyes. “No crying shit during your wedding week.”

Later that night, we’re back in the hotel room after a long day at the beach. I'm so ready to crash out if only Amelia would finish in the bathroom. She’s been in there for what feels like hours.

“You almost done?” I call out from the couch. “Are you doing a 50-step skin care routine?”

“Impatient now, are we?” She snickers, the bathroom door muffling her voice. Then she slides the door open and her face is covered white with tiny black dots.

“What the hell is on your face?” My brows furrow, walking inside the bathroom toward her to inspect it. It smells like cookies and cream. “And is that a spatula?”

She looks at me like I asked the dumbest question on earth as she waves it in the air. “It’s called a silicone brush applicator,” she says matter of factly.

“Looks like a spatula to me,” I roll my eyes, poking at the other clean end.

“Fine,” she laughs, turning toward the mirror again, spreading out the white mask on her chin. “It’s a spatula. BUT silicone brush sounds so much more sophisticated don’t you think?”

Her words sort of fade as I admire her.

“And second, it's a cookies and cream pore detox mask.”

I have no clue what that is but she could talk me through her entire skincare routine and I’d pull up a chair taking notes.

I step back, resting my hands behind me on the white porcelain tub, still looking at her through the mirror. “What does that do exactly?”

“It helps with the blackheads.” She meets my eyes, chuckling with her mouth open so it doesn’t disrupt the cream. “Can I please put it on you?”

I knew I’d end up wearing it, it was only a matter of time.

“Let me shower first, then you can do whatever you want to me.” I hold her gaze, reaching behind me with one hand to grip the collar of my shirt.

I pull it over my head before tossing it onto the gray wooden floor.

Her eyes travel slowly down my chest to my stomach, igniting something deep and fervent within my gut.

“Okay,” she says before scurrying out of the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, her alarm buzzes outside the door while warm water streams down my body. I pop open the top of my shampoo bottle just as a soft tapping sounds at the door.

“Caleb?”

“Yeah?” I reply, squeezing the shampoo into my palm.

“Can I come in for a second to rinse it off?”

“I’m kinda busy,” I say, running shampoo through my hair as it lathers.

The shower is frosted glass so she wouldn’t see anything but I wouldn’t mind if she did.

“Only for a few seconds and I’ll be out.” She groans through the door. “My face is cracking as we speak.”

I can’t help but shake my head and laugh.“Door’s open.”

“Thanks,” she answers as the wooden door slides open, letting in a cold breeze as I close my eyes, washing my hair.

Her footsteps tap against the floor as the faucet begins to run for a few minutes before she leaves.

After finishing up, I crack open the glass door reaching for the white towel hanging on the hook. Wrapping it around my waist, tucking it in securely, as I step out.

The bathroom door is half open, so I pad over to close it. Just as I reach for the handle, it slides open and something smacks me square in the chest.

Or rather someone.

“Shit,” I whisper, gripping the fabric tighter as my towel nearly comes undone.

“Sorry!” she blurts out, pressing her hands against my damp chest. “I heard the water stop running… I just needed to grab my phone.”

I love when she touches me.

“I’ll let you finish,” she stammers, realizing her hands are still on my chest as she yanks them away like she was about to get burned. Then she quickly turns around to leave.

“Didn’t you need something?”

“Oh,” she lightly smacks her forehead as she freezes. “Right!” She steps closer, her pajamas brushing against my chest, sending a wave of warmth through me.

She snatches her phone off the counter and slams the sliding door shut behind her.

I unwrap my towel, slipping into my plaid bottoms and grey shirt.

“Do I have to do anything before the mask?” I call out, glancing at the serums and moisturizers perfectly lined up against the mirror.

“Wash your face with that cleanser.” she shouts back. “Green bottle on the right.”

I follow her directions, then slide the door open until it bounces against the hinge, seeing her sprawled out on the bed waiting. “I’m all yours.”

AMELIA

I’m leaning against the sink as he towers in front of me, bending down just enough so I can brush his thick hair back. I start applying the mask to his forehead, the thick cream sliding smoothly across his skin.

He closes his eyes, humming

“You like it?” I chuckle.

“Mhm.”

I continue, applying the cream in light strokes to coat every inch but a stubborn strand of hair keeps falling in his face. I blow on it gently, but it refuses to budge.

I huff, setting the container and brush down, then spin around to dig through my makeup bag.

“What happened?” He pouts, opening his eyes as I turn back to face him.

“Wear this.” I fight back a grin as I hand him a fuzzy fuchsia headband.

“First a face mask and now this?” He complains but takes it from me anyway, slipping it over his head.

“You look adorable.” I tease, reaching up to gently rub the fuzzy fabric.

“I’m not supposed to look adorable.”

“Too late.” I grab my spatula again, dipping it a few more times into the container as I cup one side of his face. “Bend down a little.”

He listens, lowering his head to my level until he’s so close, I can feel his breath ghost against my skin.

Then, in one swift motion, his hands grip my hips and hoist me onto the counter. My breath catches in my throat, my legs parting on instinct, making space for him to step between them.

“Better?” he asks, tilting his head.

“Uh…yeah.” Much better if I’m being honest.

He plants his hands on either side of me, caging me in so I can finish.

His lips hover close, and a slow heat spreads across my cheeks. The closer I am to him, the harder it is to resist wanting to kiss him.

“We should take a picture together,” I say, swiping the last bit of cream onto his other cheek as it starts to dry. I grab my phone and set the timer. “Proof that you’re still a good boyfriend,” I tease.

This is my poor excuse to get even closer to him and that’s all I want right now.

“I definitely don’t want to disappoint,” he chuckles, before gripping my hips and lifting me off the counter. Then he grabs his phone, handing it to me. “Want to do the honors?”

I nod. Turning around and facing the mirror. “Let’s do a mirror pic.”

Caleb’s expression shifts, playful but a hint of something else I can’t pick up.

“Where do you want me?”

“Wrap your arms around my waist and kiss my neck, cheek…whichever one you want.”

There’s a slight hitch in my voice as I say it but I’m using this to my advantage while I battle with this ongoing war with my feelings. His hands on me have become my new favorite thing. Any time he’s near me there’s this electrifying feeling I can’t ignore.

It’s never enough.

“That I can do.” He moves slowly, snaking one hand around my stomach, pulling me against his chest, his heart beating steadily against my back.

He lifts his free hand, gently sweeping my curls off one shoulder and draping them over the other. I swallow hard as butterflies stir in my stomach.

I point the camera toward the mirror trying to focus, but he’s making it impossible to think straight.

Through the mirror, I watch him get closer to my neck, smudging some of the mask off, and making me giggle.

“Like this?” His lips linger on my skin, searching for the most sensitive spot below my ear.

“Yeah, perfect.”

I exhale a deep breath, pressing the shutter button, but I don’t know if he notices because he lingers a moment too long.

My heart pounds wildly in my chest, as his hands slip beneath the hem of my shirt, tracing the bare skin of my waist.

I stare at him through the mirror. When his eyes lift to meet mine, they’re dark, pulling me deeper into the shadows.

His lips brush over my pulse, trailing hot, feather-light kisses up my neck before his teeth gently nip my ear. A low moan escapes me.

I flush my back into him, desperate for more friction, anything. I spin around, fingers trembling as I grip the hem of his shirt, pulling him closer.

He cups one side of my face, his thumb tracing my bottom lip before tugging it. I part my lips, leaning in, craving the kiss.

The loud alarm blares, yanking us out of the moment. His fingers flex at his sides. “Fuck…” he curses under his breath.

“I’ll let you wash your face.” I blurt, snatching my phone off the counter and rush toward the bedroom, closing the door behind me.

I crawl into bed feeling Caleb’s warmth lingering on me and I bury my face into the pillow, groaning.

This is driving me insane.