Page 57 of Play for Power (Central Sparks #3)

meet vivienne

Caleb

P ast Caleb is a fool.

Past Caleb thought, Let’s get Rosie in the same suite so we can bang like rabbits the whole weekend. And then past Caleb went and confessed his feelings. That he’s tired of being a secret and wants to be a boyfriend.

Past Caleb is a fucking moron.

And now, present Caleb is being ditched and ignored because he scared off the skittish woman who holds all of his attention. And future Caleb is going to beat past Caleb’s ass.

Present Caleb is losing his mind and needs to stop thinking about himself in third person.

I sigh, heavily, lying down on my bed, exhausted and sore in the way only a good run can achieve, sweating, topless, and still in my running shorts.

And despite all the horrible words that spilled from my mouth in a heated moment of frustration, I am still plotting ways to get Rosie over to the dark side of dating.

I am at real risk of crushing myself under the emotional toll of getting proper feelings and having them rammed back in my face.

But every time I weigh up whether it is worth it, the possibility of being rejected and broken, I hear the sound of her laugh, see the little freckles under her eye, the playful scrunch of her little nose, and my heart skips about six beats.

I know the answer is a resounding yes. She is absolutely worth it.

I am still scared as fuck, though.

I am also avoiding. Because I’m meant to go see my dad and his wife today and I am stalling.

The longer I lie here with my head in the sand and thinking about things that will likely never come to fruition, the less time I have to spend trying to make an old man and his sad lady accept me as a person deserving of respect.

The sound of the door to our apartment slamming pulls me from my thoughts.

Rosie left no note about where she was and I was itching to know where she went, why she didn’t tell me where she was going, or who she was with.

But then I took a few breaths, grew a brain, and went back out for another run because, after all, we are just sleeping together and I don’t have a right to the answer to any of those questions.

I ran until I was too exhausted to care.

But now she’s back, and I can get answers without sounding like an obsessed idiot.

Maybe just like a semi-obsessed idiot.

“Rosebud?” I call out, grabbing a gym towel from my bag and heading down the hall to the center of the hotel apartment. It’s over the top and extravagant. And just maybe I was peacocking a little bit.

Sue me for wanting to show off to arguably one of the richest women in the world. How do you impress a woman who has everything? I don’t know, and that is why I am trying literally anything.

“Oh, hey,” she calls back as I walk down the hall, wiping sweat from my chest and neck, and then she’s there, looking sweaty herself in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water.

She lowers the glass, her eyes lowering over me, and I can’t fight the arrogant smile that spreads across my face, feeling incredibly pleased at her appreciation of my body.

I never get tired of seeing that heat in the way she looks at me.

I do the same, not hiding my appreciative look over her tan and toned legs, her body looking curvy and fit in her form-hugging tank and denim cutoffs, her usually free curls stuck to her face.

“Where’d you run off to?” I raise my chin, appearing casual but hanging on to every word she’s about to say. She just sighs, setting the glass down in the sink and then turning for her room.

“Just out.”

“Out where?” I press, following her in the direction of her room, pleased when she doesn’t slam the door but instead wanders in. I stop at the threshold and lean against the doorway.

“Why do you care?” She sighs, though I can hear the tease in her words. I narrow my eyes and watch as she heads into the adjoining en suite.

The only response my pea brain can come up with is a grunt, and I kick at nothing with my feet.

Struggling to hold in all the words I already spilled forth in the elevator, especially because she never really gave me an answer, but also not wanting to continue to push the point and actually scare her off.

I think of the sweat coating her body and just convince myself she was simply out for a walk or something and definitely not working up a sweat with someone else.

Because she wouldn’t do that while we’re here together.

You aren’t here together.

I shouldn’t have to remind myself that, but she’s here in the same apartment as me, in the city I’m from, and it just…maybe I want her to be here with me.

Fuck. Why are women and emotions so fucking complicated?

I run a frustrated hand down my face. Maybe I need to go burn off more energy. I kick off the doorway and go to head out again, when she walks back into the room in a robe, tying her hair up as she comes closer, something fiery in her warm, whiskey eyes.

“Why’d you lie about where you were going?” She pops a hip and I frown in confusion before a pleased smirk lights up my face. I don’t know what she means by “lie,” but it’s oddly comforting that she cares. Was she worried about me?

Another thought has my heart rate spiking…is she…jealous?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say simply, not able to drop my smile. I catch the scowl on her face and the way she eyes me up and down.

“Don’t play dumb. I was hanging out with Addison.

She said Noah was with you going over business stuff, but you said you went for a run.

So who’s lying, you or Noah? Because if he’s doing the dirty on her, so help me God, I’ll cut off his dick and feed it to him.

” She is seething, her hands on her hips as she glares right up at me, and I straighten.

I was definitely not with Noah, but that look in Rosie’s eye right now lets me know that if I tell her that, there is nothing stopping her from storming over there and delivering on her threat, while also making Addison stress and blowing this whole thing up.

No way Noah is doing anything of the sort, the man’s ready to sign a death sentence in tying himself to Addison for the rest of his life. There is obviously something else going on, but I’ll work that out myself.

For now, I clear my throat and put on a smile, hoping she can’t see right through me.

“You’re so very skittish, Rosebud.” Not a lie. “I went for a run, and I saw Noah.” A white lie, really. And for the greater good. “You know Noah would never.” That is not a lie, and I deliver it with heavy meaning. Hoping she gets out of her head and doesn’t cause trouble where there is none.

She clucks her tongue and then grunts something like agreement, but there is still something else simmering about her and I tilt my head in her direction.

“A little fired up, Rosebud?” I let my voice drop and make an effort to trail my eyes up and down her body. She takes a retreating step, her expression changing from annoyed to heated in a blink.

“A little pent-up energy. Nothing Viv can’t handle for me.” Her words are meant to taunt, and instead it’s a bucket of cold water and a reminder of where I’m supposed to be right now.

On a groan, I plaster myself against her wall, scrunching my eyes closed and letting my almost-boner shrivel to nothing.

“You need to pick a new name for your vibrator, Rosie.”

“You’re entirely too sensitive about vibrator names.” She snickers, and then she’s shoving at me. “Get out, I need a shower.”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before.” I wink at her but let her heave me out of the room. Before she can close the door, I turn. I know we don’t owe each other anything, but for some reason I like to let her know my movements, in case…you know, she needs me for…something.

“I’m about to head to my dad’s, so I’ll be out for a bit.” I grimace, really hating the fact I need to get this over with. She chuckles lightly, her head resting against the door as it remains half open.

“Not keen?” She guesses correctly.

“God no. Will be the longest afternoon of my life.” I huff a self-deprecating breath, feeling awfully sorry for myself, before giving her a tight-lipped smile and spinning. I’m almost all the way at the end of her hall when I hear her mumble something under her breath.

“Wait.” I stop and spin, confused at her interruption.

“Do you…” She grunts, tossing her head back and swearing something in Spanish, which I think was some form of her regretting whatever decision she’s made.

“Would you like…company?” She seems resigned, her eyes daring me to tease her about the offer and promising death if I do.

I bite my lip to hide my laugh and clear my throat of the retort.

Instead, I walk slowly back toward her until I’m right in her face.

I might be able to hide the smugness I feel at her olive branch of an offer, but I certainly can’t hide the way her actually offering is making me feel like a kid at Christmas.

I reach out to one of her loose curls and twirl it around my finger as I smile down at her, admiring her no-bullshit expression and the fire in her eyes.

“I’d love it.” And because I love to torture myself, I lean down and press a kiss to her lips.

Nothing demanding or filthy, it’s soft and hopefully telling her that I don’t take back my earlier words, but I’m just going to wait for her answer.

Her little intake of breath has me pulling away slowly, satisfied that I have shocked her enough.

I pull on that curl again and then spin and head for my own shower.

A cold one.