by Emily Duvall
“I’ll be back in a second,” I say, pounding my empty glass on the bar and going after her.
Maren and her group are right outside the entrance. The men are standing close to her. The faint glow of a cigarette burns a small circle of orange and the air is tinged with smoke. The man with the lighter speaks, “Nah, it’s fine. She doesn’t live far.”
“I changed my mind,” Maren says, her voice innocent and crisp. “Another time.”
“Maren,” I say clear and firm. She spins around and looks me in the eye. Once glance is enough for me to see she isn’t okay with this either. There’s no smile on her face and she’s uncertain. “I thought that was you.”
“Caleb.” Her voice has a false excited tone. “I don’t want you anywhere near me.”
“You heard her.” The guy holding her hand wraps his arms around her. “Who’s your friend?”
I stride over to her to be closer. I extend a hand. “Caleb. I’m a friend of hers.”
Andy gives a disinterested shake. “You’re that lawyer.”
Maren’s told him about me. “I am.”
“He’s not a friend,” Maren says.
Slowly, I turn to her, waiting a few breaths to address her. When I speak, my words and my mouth and my eyes are only directed at her. “I deserve that.”
An uncomfortable cough is made by one of the guys. “We’re leaving. We’re headed back to Maren’s.”
I do not look away from Maren. “Is that really what you want?”
Andy takes a step closer. “She already knows what she wants.”
“Maren, I know we’re not together, but I am here now. What do you want to do next?”
She shakes her head. Her voice is broken and heartfelt. “I tried explaining to Andy and his friends, but they keep telling me we’re going back to my place. I don’t want them to go there.”
“Well, Andy,” I drag out his name, “looks like your plans have changed.”
Andy comes at me with his fist and I duck at the last second. His swing misses. The other man jumps at me, but I’m faster. I grab Maren’s hand and thrust her out of their reach. “Don’t go,” I order and shove her behind my back.
The collar of my shirt is yanked sideways. My hands fly to the hand at my neck. I elbow him in the face and he releases me. Stumbling forward, I clutch my throat and cough. “What the hell is wrong with you?” My voice breaks in a wheezy sound.
Andy spits on the ground in front of me. “This isn’t worth my time. Come on guys, let’s get out of here.”
“Freak,” one of the other guys yells, laughing as he goes.
My heart and breath are pounding in my chest. The bystanders move on, leaving the two of us. My hands rest on my knees and I look up. “Are you okay?”
Maren sticks out her hand to mine. Her eyes are on the verge of tears. “I didn’t like Andy’s friends or how he acted. He kept telling us we were going back to my place and I didn’t want them there. They kept looking at me. I felt like running away if they wouldn’t leave me alone. Then you showed up and…and…thank you. What are you doing down there? Take my hand.”
I take her hand and stand up fully. My arms automatically fold around her until she’s snug against my chest and I breathe in the scent of the night. My hands glide down to her thighs and linger. I stretch my face up to the night sky and gather my thoughts. “Your date is an asshole.”
Maren trembles. “He was nice before tonight. I didn’t like his friends. They are assholes. Big ones.”
“Once you left the bar, what was your plan?”
“I didn’t have one,” she admits, pressing her face against my chest. “The situation didn’t feel right, and I guess they could have followed me to the apartment, but I wouldn’t have let them in. They need a badge.”
I run my hand down her arm and let out a thankful sigh. “You’re okay now. They’re gone.”
She lets me hold her for a minute longer. “How long were you in the bar?” she says, angling her face up, giving our bodies breathing room.
“I was there when you arrived.” I reach for a lock of her hair and softly twirl it. “Orange, huh?”
“Andy didn’t like the look.”
“We both know he’s not the guy for you. What if he calls you again?”
“I don’t think he’ll be calling.”
The doors to the bar open and a few people exit. Sara and Jane are inside, plus half a dozen other staff on the case. Reality is a cold reminder that this won’t last much longer. “Maren, we need to talk about what happened in the conference room.”
“No way.” She shakes her head fast.
“Please, just let me say this one thing. When I first brought up the case, I sensed you were upset or nervous. I had no idea what you had seen. I understand now why you didn’t tell me. But what about the police? Didn’t you tell them?” She takes a step away. She wants to run from this, and I won’t let her. “We have to talk about this. That’s huge. I get that you’re on Dana’s team, but I’m talking as just me. Not the person in that conference room.”
“You will hate me either way.”
“No. I don’t hate you.” I’m clear on this. That couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Then why would you tell everyone that I’m on the spectrum? Do you know how hard I work to avoid people using that label with me?”
“Dana would have brought it up anyway. The jury would have found out. Labels aren’t a bad thing, Maren. I wish you could see that. It doesn’t make a difference at your work or in your life. There are a lot of strange people out there. My personal assistant only eats candy in sets of twos. You’re not one of them. Not in the way you think you are. You’re honest and fun to be around.”
She looks at me with fresh scrutiny. “You think I’m fun?”
“Of course, I do. You’re a great runner. You’re wicked smart. You’re beautiful. You’re killing me because the only thing I wanted to do was to make out with you in that conference room.”
A laugh erupts from her lovely lips. “I don’t want to talk about the case. The topic makes us mad at each other and I don’t like fighting with you. But you’re here, and there must be some reason we’re still talking.”
Her face is what I keep coming back to and this weird connection we have. “We’re talking because these tiny circumstances keeping bringing us together. What are the chances, on any other night, that I would be here at the same time? Because of some blip in our universe, I get to tell you I don’t have an excuse for what I did, but my job is an issue. I’m starting to think I’m not the lawyer I thought I was.”
“You’re a good lawyer, Caleb, you’ll figure this out.”
The light from the lamppost outside reflects the warmth in her eyes. “You don’t need someone like Andy to prove anything.” I can’t stop myself. Anger, sadness, the desire to watch out for her. I feel so much with her in my arms. I brush the underside of her chin with my finger. “I want to kiss you.”
“I want that too, but we can’t.”
I inch my hand over her smooth cheek and pull her to me anyway.
The door to the bar opens. “Caleb,” Sara says with Jane on her heels. They both look at me. At Maren. “You—we, uh, tried to call you. We thought you left.”
I drop my hand and step back from Maren. “I’m leaving. You two enjoy the drinks.”
Sara folds her arm over her chest with eyes full of anger. “Oh.”
I know what she’s thinking and she’s right, but the non-complicated part of me is worried Andy will be waiting for Maren to walk home alone or he will show up at her apartment. “Okay if I drive you home?” I say.
“I’d like that,” Maren says.
She’s made my decision for me and for us, and we get my car in the nearby garage. We leave the bar scene and the lively downtown and go to her apartment where I find a parking spot a block away.
We go to her apartment together and all I know is this is where I want to be. I know all the reasons we shouldn’t
be together, but that list feels small and insignificant compared to the idea that if I keep walking away from her, I will never be able to find my way back.
She goes to the window and opens the blinds. The wall of windows overlooks the city and there’s a door to the right leading to a balcony. “Come outside.”
The view from the small balcony is impressive. The evening is clear and the air, warm. There are stars in the sky and lights on the buildings down below. She leans against the rail and removes the clip from her hair. Her silky locks tumble down her back. For a while, she says nothing. Neither do I. Forget about the trial or rules for interaction. There’s only the two of us.
“I am sorry about the night I took Sara to the fundraiser,” I finally say.
“That sucked,” she says, looking over her shoulder with a slow, gorgeous smile. “But ever since Andy, I see how things aren’t always easy to define. When I kissed him, I thought of you. I liked hanging around with him and getting to know him, even when I knew he didn’t make me feel the way you did, and I still kept going out with him. I don’t care if you went to the fundraiser with Sara. You care about me. I know that, Caleb.”
I come up behind her, bracing my hands on either side. Maren presses her backside against me and I dig my fingers into her hips and tug her close. Short, lustful breaths exhale from my mouth and heat storms my lower half. I’m hard against her, letting her gently move her rear up against my erection. “Maren,” I say her name with aching need.
She tilts her head back. My fingers drag down her front, clipping onto her waist once more and I twist her around, crushing my mouth over hers. Lips and tongue collide to the faint trace of wine and beer. I go deeper, holding her close, matching every flick of her tongue. I feel so damned much for her.
She pulls back first, keeping her arms around my neck. My gaze is focused on her. My breath is jagged and my voice, rugged. “What?”
“How can you not want to have sex with me?”
A laugh stumbles out of my mouth. My hands draw circles around her thighs. I search her eyes, looking for a reason to tell her no. There are so many, and yet, there are none. Not really. Not in the way it matters. I don’t answer immediately, I trace my lips over hers, giving a rough, selfish edge to the kiss. “I said no the last time because I didn’t want to ruin anything between us.”
“I don’t see what could be ruined.” She moves her mouth over mine in a seductive motion that causes an audible groan.
“I just want to be sure—this is what you want.” My forehead rests against hers and I hate breaking up the momentum on a technicality.
“You’re the one who’s risking their career,” she whispers back.
And damned if I ignore that piece of advice.
My hands close around her hips and I kiss her tenderly. She shifts her weight and pulls my body against hers, swiping a hand down my abs and lower, feeling out my hardness.
I laugh against her lips, not because I’m making fun, but my heart is just so open around her. And forget the fact that I’m a hot mess from my dick to my brain, we’re having a conversation in this moment. On her balcony.
She bites her lower lip, bringing her warm gaze to mine.
I grab her hand. “Let’s take this inside, before I take you right here.”
We return to the apartment and I guide her to her bedroom. The bed is unmade and there are clothes strewn over the floor. I leave the light off.
She wastes no time, bringing her lips to mine. I kiss her thoroughly. I work her clothes off and tell her to take off mine.
I’m patient about this part. Maren isn’t smooth, she’s clumsy and tries to yank off my shirt in a way that catches on my head. I laugh inwardly and guide her hands to my pants. “Take those off, too,” I order, holding my breath.
She’s the one who makes the next move. She runs her hand down the length of my cock. My thighs are tight and set, leaving her full access. Her hands are soft and warm and thrust the insanity of our movements. Each stroke of her fingers sets off a rough groan. This is how her brain must feel. Everything torrent and sparking and overwhelming. Her lips touch me, taste me, and I groan, rolling her onto her back before I lose the control I’m having trouble holding back. Within seconds, I’m not and neither is she.
Chapter 23
Maren
“What do you have for breakfast?” Caleb asks, standing in front of the open refrigerator and inspecting the selections.
“Frozen waffles are in the freezer,” I suggest, moving around my room and opening the curtains. Like there would be any other option for the first meal of the day.
Caleb walks around the kitchen, keeping busy, opening and closing the cabinets. “Do you have anything else? No one eats frozen waffles after having sex.”
“You’re kidding.” I punch his arm.
He hits my arm right back. “I’ll make you an omelet with mushrooms and swiss or bacon.”
“I’m good with the waffles and a toaster.”
“I thought you were getting back in to your culinary interests.”
“For dinners and desserts. Not for breakfast. There’s no need to make waffles from scratch.”
“Then don’t. Choose to be on my side with this one. Trust me.”
I think I can…I think I can…I’m looking directly at Caleb and last night is all over my brain and my heart, setting off torrents of heat. “What if I don’t like anything else? What if the omelet is terrible?”
“What if it’s not?” Caleb is in front of me. “This isn’t a big deal. We’re talking about breakfast.”
“You’re right. It’s not. I’ll have the waffles.”
His hand smothers mine. He draws me close and kisses my neck. “I don’t want you to miss out on the good stuff.”
I laugh. “And you think eggs are special?”
He smiles tentatively, and then his voice grows deeper and thick. “I loved last night.”
The sensation is warm on my skin. His kiss is familiar. I move with him, backing up against the counter. “What are the rules?” I say between kisses. “I don’t want to mess this up. Tell me what you expect of me.”
He breaks away and looks at me with clarity. “You won’t mess up anything.”
“Do we do this every day? How many times a week do I see you? I don’t want you to sleep here every night.” I duck under his arm and rush to the desk to grab a pen and paper. Don’t want to forget what he says. “What about the trial? Is that still an issue?”
Caleb yanks at the paper. “You don’t have to write down what I say.”
I pull back and the paper rips, causing me to fly backwards.
“I have no idea what I’m doing either.”
“That’s not true.” I don’t hide my surprise. “You’re experienced.”
“Experience doesn’t matter. This is new for me too.”
“Thank you.” I breathe a sigh of relief. “What else?”
He squeezes his eyes shut and opens them, I think there’s pain or conflict there. I can’t tell. “We can’t let anyone know about what happened. I could lose my job. None of that has changed.”
Worried at first, I consider his request. My hand starts to flap, and I squeeze the fabric on my shirt. This is about the case. All about the case. This is Caleb. “Then I will be careful with that.”
“What about you? Any rules you want me to respect?”
I’m floored. “No one’s ever asked me that before.”
“That has to change. Tell me if there’s anything you want me to do.”
“I don’t want to be embarrassed again.”
“That won’t happen. Not by me.”
My arms straighten. Her hands relax. “I want to jog with you again too. I miss our Saturday mornings, but if we started those up again, we would be seen together and from what I understand, we can only exist behind closed doors.”
“I’m sorry, yes. Until after the trial that’s our rules.”
“That’s good enough for me.”
Caleb gives my shoulder a playful shove. “Then we go with that.”
He has to get home to do some work and I take the morning to go for a jog and grocery shop. I am meeting him at his house in the early evening and I find the day takes forever to get through. Ever since Caleb, I don’t care as much about Countess Coins. Not even taking out my maps and highlighting the longest and shortest routes does much for me. I take Charlotte’s advice and show up at his house exactly fifteen minutes late.
Caleb’s house brings a smile to my face. The stone fence around the exterior is aged and greenery covers sections. There’s a peacefulness, this order of plants and grass, unlike the constant coming-and-going of apartment tenants and their voices in the hallway or the ding of the elevator. We hangout for a bit on his deck and spend time together like how I imagined real friends do.
I lean back in the lawn chair and take in the expanse of flat yard. Fanning my face with my hand doesn’t help the heat. “You need a pool.”
“I thought about that once. I’ve actually been thinking of selling the place.”
I square my shoulders and speak with disbelief, “Don’t do that. This is a great house.”
“There’s lots of memories here. I’m starting to think I need a new space. A fresh start.”
I nod my head in agreement. “This house reminds you of Darcy.”
Caleb sits up straight and rests his elbows on his knees. “Everything reminds me of her. I haven’t told anyone in so long, I don’t know how to talk about her.”
“You just say her name and you say the words.”
His lips crack a sad smile and he stares across the yard at the fence.
“Where is her mother?”
“Her mother is my ex-girlfriend. Her name is Annalise. We tried to make things work after Darcy passed, but we couldn’t move past her death. We certainly couldn’t plan a wedding and think about a future. She lives in Arizona and I’ve been in this house ever since. We talk occasionally, usually around Darcy’s birthday or when she died. Other than that, we stay out of each other’s lives.”
I reach out and put my hand on his face, asking the question everyone asks me. “Are you okay?”
