Page 15 of Never Let Go (Forbidden #1)

Chapter Fifteen

CALEB

I ’d been messaging Olivia, the woman I’d matched with, on and off for the last week.

Nothing deep or personal, just the usual basic questions, ‘why are you on a dating app,’ ‘favorite place to vacation,’ ‘what would you do if you weren’t in your current job.

’ Boring, mundane questions, but I guess I have to start somewhere.

We agreed to meet up for a drink, so I suggested Illusion.

It’s a hole in the wall bar but the music’s good.

I’ve showered and shaved—my two-day stubble not being a good look.

I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard, so I’ve put on a white band T-shirt, black jeans, and my sneakers.

Could I have made more of an effort? Probably, but I’m just not feeling it.

I’ve gelled my hair and as I look at myself in the mirror, I’m seriously contemplating cancelling. Taking a deep breath, I walk out of the bathroom, running down the stairs and grab my keys and jacket from by the door.

Sliding into my car, I start the engine, the blaring notes of Obey by Bring Me The Horizon causes me to jump.

Fuck, last night’s me is not tonight’s me.

I reverse out onto the main road and head towards Olivia’s place. I offered to pick her up and I’m kinda regretting that decision now. What if the date goes bad and I need to bail? I’ll still have to take her home.

Fuck my life.

I go to run my hand through my hair and cringe when I remember the gel. I pull my sticky hand away and wipe it down on my thigh.

Olivia lives in an old apartment complex on the other side of town, meaning that she’s completely out of the way. When I offered to pick her up, I was hoping she’d say no. Note to self: don’t offer next time.

Driving slowly through town, I see burnt out cars, graffiti on walls, and houses boarded up. Finally getting to Olivia’s, I leave the engine running—I should probably go and knock, but I don’t, I sit in the car and text her.

Caleb: I’m outside.

It takes a few minutes, but she messages back.

Olivia: Oh, okay. Be down in a minute xxx

The last couple of days I’ve noticed she’s started putting kisses at the end of her messages.

It started off with one every so often, slowly adding more in, to the now three that I receive.

I don’t do kisses at the end of my messages.

Never have. I’m not even invested in this date, so when a thought of Lauren pops into my head, it catches me off guard— nope, not happening, dickhead .

I don’t think there’s been a single relationship that I’ve ever given my all to.

Does that make me an asshole? Yeah, I guess it does.

It’s never my intention to lead anyone on, I just get stuck in situations hoping that one day it’ll stick—news flash, it doesn’t.

Samantha was my longest relationship and that felt like pulling teeth on the daily.

A tap on the window pulls me from my thoughts—Olivia. I lean over and open the passenger door for her. I’m the original gentleman.

“Hi,” she breathes out as she gets into the car.

Olivia’s wearing a barely there red dress, her long blonde hair down and her tits nearly spilling out.

If I was James or Theo I’d be all over that but it just turns me off.

“Thanks for coming to get me.” She smiles, and all I can muster is a small tilt of my lips in return.

Get it together. It’s not her fault you’re a fucking idiot who has the hots for his student.

“Yeah, no problem.”

Her face drops slightly, probably from my lack of enthusiasm before she pulls her shoulders back and beams a smile.

We make small talk on the way over and by small talk, I mean, she talks and I grunt every so often, keeping my eyes on the road.

Getting to Illusion, we head in. I feel a brush of a hand against mine and I quickly put my hands in my pockets.

I’d already called ahead so we don’t have to wait in line and I usher her inside, finally trying not to be an ass, and placing a hand on the small of her back.

The music’s loud and for once I’m glad I can’t hear myself think.

We make our way to the bar and order our drinks. Olivia stands next to another woman, but I’m too focused on paying to take any notice.

Something drops to the floor by my feet, bending down to pick it up, I see it’s a woman’s clutch, the contents spilling everywhere. I look up, doing a double take as I come face to face with Lauren. My Lauren.

What’s she doing here?

Okay, that’s a stupid question. Apart from Bucky’s and Strokes, this is the only other bar in town.

“Thank you…” She trails off as she glances up, noticing it’s me.

She stares, her mouth gaping open before she, apparently, comes to her senses, grabs the rest of her things, stuffs them in her bag, and strides away to the dance floor.

I watch as her hips start swaying to the music and I can’t help the way my gaze lands on her ass—which looks fucking great by the way—and my cock begins to stir.

Lauren starts dancing, her hands up in the air, and just like that first night at Strokes, I’m mesmerized by her. She’s so damn enigmatic, that she just draws you in with her beauty. I’m too busy watching Lauren and her sweat glistening body that I don’t notice the hand that’s on my arm.

“You okay,” Olivia shouts in my ear. I reluctantly turn my gaze away and glance at her, a look of concern showing on her heavily made-up face.

I gently move my arm out of her grip, giving a nod of my head as I reply, “Yeah, I’m good.”

Looking back toward Lauren, rage hot and heavy begins clawing its way through my veins as some fucking cunt touches her.

My jaw’s clenched so hard, I’m pretty sure I just broke a tooth.

I watch as his hands wrap around her waist, his head nuzzling into the side of her neck, rubbing against her.

My blood boils at the sight. All I can think of is peeling every single one of his fingers off her and bending them backwards until they break.

I’m about two seconds away from ripping the asshole off her, when I remember I can’t—she’s not mine, she never will be. She’s my student , I emphasize the thought to remind myself she’s off limits.

“Do you want another drink?” Olivia asks, following my line of sight to see what I’m looking at .

Raking a hand down my face and sighing, I glance at Olivia. “I’m sorry, this was a mistake.” Guilt for treating Olivia like shit and guilt over Lauren starts to make me feel nauseous.

“Yeah, I got that.” Olivia gives me a small smile as she puts her hand on my arm and squeezes gently. She doesn’t look upset, more like… disappointed. “I’m gonna call a cab and head home.”

I just nod, feeling pretty confident that dating isn’t for me. But the little voice in the back of my head pipes up, or is it because you're with the wrong woman ? Glancing back over to the dance floor, I search the crowds but Lauren isn’t there.

Where did she go?

Frantically looking around, I try to think of where she could have gone. Fear enveloping me at the thought that something could have happened.

Think Caleb. Where could she have gone ? Bathroom?

Rushing to the women’s toilets, I shove my way through the door—women scream at me to get out but all I’m focused on is finding Lauren.

Where the fuck is she?

I race to the exit, pushing my way through the crowds of people, my heart pumping along to the beat of the song that’s currently playing.

Sweaty bodies are crowding around me as fear grips me.

I physically start pushing people out of the way in my haste to find Lauren.

A drink gets spilled down my T-shirt but I couldn’t give a shit—the T-shirt can be replaced. Lauren cannot.

I burst through the door, people in the queue staring at me as I continue my search, my panic rising with every moment I don’t find her .

“You’re hurting me, get off,” I hear Lauren cry to my left. I run as fast as I can toward her voice, finding her with the same asshole from earlier, grabbing her arm.

“Get your fucking hands off her,” I growl. I’m two seconds away from pummeling this motherfuckers ass. I glance over at Lauren who looks fucking livid— same, baby girl, same .

“No harm, no foul, man. I was just talking to my girl here.”

I swear to fucking god. His girl? His fucking girl. I’m gonna kill him.

I clench and unclench my hands, seething. A full on murderous rage beginning at the audacity of this prick. “She isn’t your fucking anything, man . So, unless you want me to rip your arm out of its fucking socket and shove it up your ass, I suggest you let her go, right. The. Fuck. Now.”

The asshole, seeing that I’m not fucking around and he’s away from the safety of security, let’s go of Lauren, stepping back and holding his hands up in an ‘I surrender’ gesture. He saunters off back into the bar, probably to try it on with another unsuspecting victim.

Lauren comes running to me and I open my arms for her. She buries her head in my chest, wrapping her arms around my waist.

She’s shaking as I pull her closer, inhaling her vanilla and strawberry scent, calming all my previous murderous thoughts. “Hey, baby girl. You doing okay?” I murmur, stroking the back of her hair.

She gazes up at me, her mascara smudged from nuzzling her head into my chest. The pool of unshed tears making the green of her eyes pop more than usual.

“I’m okay now, thank you,” she sniffs, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look more beautiful. “I just need to go home.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Let me take you, my car’s parked over there,” I say, nodding toward the parking lot .

She doesn’t say anything, but the fact that she lets me lead her to my car without a word, I take as permission.

I open the passenger door for her, waiting until she gets in before bending down to secure her in. I brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and she leans into my hand.

Lauren gives me a small smile, her bottom lip wobbling as she says, “Tha-thank you… for helping me.” Her eyes begin to water and I haul her into me—as best as I can, with her strapped in—giving her a hug.

I swallow the lump that’s formed in my throat, choking out, “Let’s get you home, baby girl.”

After getting the information out of Lauren about where she lives, I drive her back to campus.

Neither one of us says anything, just comfortable in the silence.

I know it’s not right but I put my hand on her thigh anyway, just to offer her that little bit of extra comfort.

She grabs my hand entwining her fingers with mine, leaning her head back onto the seat and gazing out the window.

I keep my eyes on the road but every so often I rub my thumb across her hand, just to let her know I’m here.

We get back to campus and I park outside her dorm, my tinted windows giving us some sort of privacy.

Lauren fell asleep on the drive back, her soft snores soothing my frayed edges.

I turn off the engine and gaze down at her, her mouth slightly open, and I can’t help but tenderly run a finger down her cheek to her lip, wishing things could be different.

“Lauren,” I gently coax. “We’re here, sweetheart.”

She opens her eyes and looks around, the alcohol in her system causing her eyes to unfocus slightly and confusion to settle in.

“Oh, right. Thank you.” She undoes her seatbelt before turning to me. “Thank you for, uh, coming to my rescue?” She chuckles lightly; the situation not lost on her, but what’s that age-old saying? If you don’t laugh, you’ll cry.

“Anytime, Lauren,” I gruffly say.

We continue staring at each other, and I take in all of her beautiful features, filing them away. Neither one of us makes a move, not wanting the other to leave.

Finally I come to my senses, clearing my throat and leaning back in my chair, looking through the windshield as I basically dismiss her.

“Right. Thanks again,” she awkwardly says before getting out. I watch as she stumbles toward her dorm, everything screaming in me to run after her, to make sure she gets to her room okay, but I can’t.

Once she’s through the door, I start up the engine and drive home.