Page 6

AMELIA

Now he’s setting up my new bookshelf that was dropped off fifteen minutes ago. It’s a gray oak finish with three tall shelves that stretch floor to ceiling along the free wall in my room.

All the books I impulsively buy after finishing them on my Kindle will finally have a proper wooden home. My ‘book trophies’.

“How’s it going in here?” R&B music hums faintly as I peek into my bedroom. I step inside and almost trip over a mess of cardboard, bubble wrap, and Styrofoam scattered across the floor.

“Watch your step,” Caleb says, his face buried into the instructional manual.

I cautiously step between the mess, popping a squat beside him. He’s got a screwdriver in one hand, his glasses are slipping down his nose, flipping through the pages all laser focused.

He looks up at me over the rim of his frames, looking like my grandmother right now. “You know, this bookshelf has a lot of damn screws. Who needs sixty?”

“Because it’s fancy.” I stifle a laugh. “Want some more water, handy man?”

He’s been working nonstop since he got here and the best friend in me is feeling guilty for taking up his whole day.

He shakes his head, a smile creeping onto his face. “I’m fine, but could you please crank up the AC? It’s getting hot in here.”

“Coming right up.” I ruffle his hair, ignoring his groan, then head back into the living room and rapidly tap the buttons down to exactly sixty-nine degrees.

If Maya were here, she’d be proud of that.

When I return, his shirt is discarded to the side, and he’s now in only jeans, crouched low in front of the half-built shelf.

“How about we get some lunch when you’re done?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe, watching him work.

“Sounds good to me,” he says glancing over his shoulder with a grin. “Wanna pick the place?”

“Sure.” I chuckle, pushing off the door.

I wander out to my newly setup three-piece modular sofa, sinking onto the plush gray cushions, fishing out my phone and call Maya, hopefully she’s on her lunch break.

“Hey hottie,” she answers almost instantly. “Is lover boy still working on your apartment?”

I roll my eyes. Please. She’s convinced that Caleb and I have hooked up at some point, though she can’t prove it.

The closest thing we’ve ever come to ‘kissing’ was sophomore year of high school. I was teaching him how to ride my longboard, and we’ve been out there for hours when he fell on top of me and almost pecked my lips in the process.

“Caleb...” I correct the awful nickname she gave him. “…is still here but we’re grabbing lunch after.”

“Interesting,” she says casually.

“How?”

“Oh I don’t know. He’s just the sweetest guy, huh?” She snickers, like a wicked witch. “Spending his day helping you unpack rather than sleeping in.”

“He’s being nice.” I raise a brow, suspicious of where she’s going with this.

“Nice…right. I’m shocked though, after all these years and you two never?—”

“Dated? I interrupt, getting this exact question from my mother every single chance she gets.

“Dating? No.” She giggles, then lets out a long exaggerated sigh. “What I’m saying is, he’s hot and you’re hot. I think it’s time you let loose and fuc?—”

Ok no. I don’t want to think about that.

“I don’t see him that way!” I interject. “Don’t put those images in my head.”

Oof. Too late. I’m picturing it.

“Imagine he’s all sweaty on top of you, moaning your name as he’s pounding your—” She lets out a breathy moan.

“Nope. Nope. Nope. I’m hanging up now, bye.” I hang up, flinging my phone to the other side of the couch.

Fantastic. Screw her and her dirty mind.

My apartment elevator creaks with a sound that is in desperate need of WD-40. Caleb wanted to go home and freshen up before we went out so it’s been a few hours.

As I head toward the lobby, I spot him near the couches. His brown hair is tousled and slightly damp, and a grey t-shirt clings to his broad shoulders and arms. His glasses sit perfectly on his nose, like he just stepped out of a Calvin Klein ad.

He runs his hands through his hair, his shirt lifting enough to flash a sliver of his tanned skin and the waistband of his boxers. Oh, hey I was right…

I chuckle to myself.

His lips curve into a smile, raising a brow. “What’re you laughing at?”

I shake my head, a quiet laugh caught in my throat. “Nothing.”

“Come on, let’s eat before you get all hangry on me,” he huffs amused, draping an arm over my shoulder as he steers me through the revolving doors.

By the time we make it to the Grove, the hum of traffic has faded into the distance. We head toward the coffee shop, and I breathe in the fresh air, falling into step beside him.

Caleb has always had this warm, grounding presence. For most people, silence can feel heavy and awkward but with him, it never does.

The cafe door opens with a light jingle as he steps ahead of me performing the most exaggerated bow, hand pressed to his stomach as he gestures me in. “After you.”

“Why, thank you.” I laugh, amused by his antics, per usual.

I order a white chocolate latte and avocado toast, while Caleb orders an egg and bacon sandwich with caramel coffee.

We find a nice table outside with a huge yellow umbrella in the middle as Caleb takes a sip from his drink, letting out a quiet hum of satisfaction. “Mmm. Usually caramel coffees are decent but this is good. Want to try?” he asks, tilting his cup in my direction.

“Yeah. Let me grab an extra straw,” I tease, pressing my palms against the table. “I don’t know where your mouth has been.”

He takes another slow sip, then offers the cup back, eyes on mine. “I promise my lips are clean.”

“Fine.” I shake my head, leaning in as my chest presses against the edge of the table. Then, I wrap my lips around the straw as a low groan creeps up my throat. “This is delicious.”

Silence.

When I glance up, Caleb’s eyes avert from mine.

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Delicious.”

As we continue eating our lunch, whispers form behind me, followed by the sound of high heels against the gravel. I look over my shoulder and see two women staring right at Caleb before approaching him like prey.

“Caleb?” a blonde with a tight shirt and big boobs squeals. “Caleb Hayes?”

He looks past me, a friendly glint in his eyes. “Hi ladies.”

“Oh my god. I told you it was him!” The blonde practically moans from hearing him speak, then shoves her phone into her friend’s hands. “Take a picture of us!”

Her friend grumbles, trying to adjust the shopping bags in her hands.

The blonde strides to Caleb’s side of the table as he rises, fixing his shirt.

I continue eating my toast, watching him interact with his supporters, which is something I admire about him. Every time I’ve seen him with one he’s never annoyed, never fake, and genuinely treats them like friends.

He wraps his arms chastely around her waist, his touch respectful, but she doesn’t hesitate to press her body against his, breaking that touch barrier.

After they snap a photo she leans in, biting her bottom lip. “You’re even hotter in person. Could you please sign something for me?”

I wonder what it will be this time, usually fans will bring him hats, shirts, phone cases, I’ve even seen someone using an unused pad because they panicked at the last minute.

“Of course.” He nods. “What is it?”

She points to her cleavage and asks, “Could you sign…here?”

I pause mid-bite, nearly choking on my food as I glance up at Caleb, who’s now holding a sharpie she magically pulled from her purse.

Of course she’d have a perfectly working marker.

He looks at me for a second, then back to her, before coughing into his fist. “Uh, sure thing.”

She beams, pushing her hair over her shoulder, and he awkwardly signs a few inches above where she’d asked, careful not to go near the valley of her breasts.

When he finishes, Caleb caps the marker and hands it back. “There you go.”

She shrieks, wrapping her arms around him for a hug. “Thank you! I love you so much!”

“Love you too,” he shouts back with a polite smile.

I shake my head, returning to my food as he sits across from me. “You have interesting fans. Do they always ask you to sign their body parts?”

“As weird as it may sound, that wasn’t my first rodeo.” He snorts. “Doesn’t make it any less awkward though.”

“In that case, maybe I’ll get you to sign my forehead? Ever gotten that request?”

“You’d be the first,” he grins, taking another bite of his sandwich. “Is that what you want?”

“Yeah. I want Caleb Hayes, written all across.”

“Only if I get yours in return.” He laughs, tossing his straw playfully at me and I catch it effortlessly.

As we finish lunch, I slide all my trash onto the tray to throw it but Caleb beats me to it. He scoops up both of ours, walking to the garbage can a few stores down.

“Amelia?”

Chills shoot up my spine when I recognize that deep familiar voice…

Jared.

Why do I feel like I’ve been sucked into a time machine? The memories rush in. The laughs, the petty arguments, the way we’d always watch movies together in my dorm. He’d pull me into his arms, feed me popcorn and I couldn’t help the tingles I’d get by being around him.

It’s all crashing back.

I shoot upright, stealing a quick glance at Caleb, who’s still busy throwing our trash away. My gaze jumps back to Jared, heart pounding against my ribcage. It’s been a whole year since I last saw him, and was counting on the wedding being the only time I’d have to run into him again. Dang it.

“You look great,” he says gently, his voice smooth as butter and I’m trying not to get sucked into this familiarity. “Um…how’ve you been?”

My throat tightens. “Great.” I shift my weight from one foot to the other, tapping my fingers impatiently against my thigh. Caleb is taking forever and the longer I stand here, the more awkward I feel.

“I heard about your new job.” He smiles, tentative. “Congratulations."

“We can skip the small talk.”

There’s no need for it.

His expression fades into something more serious. “I know you’re mad but please, let me explain.”