Well, that was a surprise, and damn, did I get it.
2
Caden
Damn it. I knew I should’ve given Christopher a heads-up. Instead, I’d assumed that since my family was headed out west and I had bowed out at the last minute, it wouldn’t be a big deal. My family knew I’d been having a hard few months after my breakup with Lauren, not only because we’d been high-school sweethearts—and really had become more friends than anything else—but because I was going through something my mom kept calling a midlife crisis.
If only they knew. And besides, I wasn’t old enough for one of those. It wasn’t like I was rushing out to buy a sports car, though it was fun to rent something different to drive for this trip. Okay, maybe I was too predictable when it came to my habits in life, but this thing was more like some sort of awakening.
I’d been exploring this other side of myself that’d been buried far too long. And of course, my time alone licking my wounds and figuring shit out had to coincide with Blair fucking Anderson showing up out of the blue. Just my luck.
It’d been about eight years, but he still seemed to be the same self-assured shit he usually was—all attitude and beautiful lines and sarcastic zingers. Like he owned the damned world. I always hated him for that. And envied him all the same. Not that I’d let him know it.
Yet he did seem slightly off his game this time, maybe because I tripped him up by being here. Normally, he’d already be a bit obnoxious and, okay, pretty damned hilarious too. He could make me laugh like nobody’s business when we were kids. But today he looked almost defeated. Like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and this was his last stop on the merry-go-round before he could finally crash.
“Listen,” Blair said, stepping closer. “I’ll call Christopher and tell him there was a mix-up. Then I’ll go to a hotel until I figure something else out—”
“No freaking way.” Damn, I felt shitty for putting him out and ruining his trip. “I’ll be the one to go to a hotel. Just give me time to get my things together.”
Set on the idea, I walked toward the staircase leading to the second-floor bedroom where I’d unpacked my bag and started to settle in.
“Dude, you’re not leaving your brother’s house,” Blair said from behind me. “That’s stupid.”
When I turned and our eyes met, he looked so weary. Almost as weary as me. “Why’d you come here to begin with? Are your parents—”
“I’ll be meeting them in Lucerne for the New Year. I just…” His hand swept across the space. “I wanted to get my head together for a few days.”
That might’ve been the most subdued I’d ever heard him. Except that one year when his parents announced they were getting a divorce, and he was over at our house a lot, looking glum. But then they reconciled, and I didn’t recall the details, but everything seemed okay between them after that.
“Check out that sunset,” Blair said with awe in his voice, rushing to the window, almost like a little kid awaiting his favorite TV show. It made my chest tighten briefly with nostalgia as I was swept away to our younger days—building sandcastles on the beach, hunting for seashells, trying to catch a glimpse of dolphins playing in the surf… Suddenly I got why Blair decided to come here, even though showing up alone didn’t seem like him. Maybe he planned to hook up with someone in town or had company arriving later? None of my business.
Still, now that I was acknowledging some stuff about myself, it sure felt way more interesting to think about. How Blair had loved the boys and was never apologetic about it. Something to be admired even if at one time the idea of it terrified me until I buried it deep enough to ignore it.
“It’s always so gorgeous,” he murmured as I stepped up beside him for my own inspection.
We stood side by side, looking out at the water in a hushed silence as the glowing orange orb grew smaller by varying degrees. By the time it turned into a thin line, seemingly evaporating into the vastness of the ocean, I’d made a decision I hoped Blair would go for too.
“Hey, listen,” I said, looking up at the sky as the clouds turned a mistier gray. “Maybe we can both be here and just…do our own thing.”
Blair seemed taken aback as he turned his blue gaze on me. “I wouldn’t be in your way?” he asked in a sheepish tone. “I can be pretty—”
“Obnoxious?” I replied with a laugh, and his scoff turned into a smirk. “I haven’t seen you in a few years, so maybe you’ve matured some.”
He rolled his eyes. “And maybe you don’t still have a stick up your ass.”
“What? I never—” I clamped my mouth shut. He was usually able to goad me when I was younger, and I was not that kid anymore. If I chose to, I could walk right the hell out of here. I didn’t owe him anything. And that thought only made the idea more enticing. I was more my own person than ever before, and I could hold my own against the stunning and sophisticated Blair Andersons of the world.
“Not gonna lie,” I said instead, “it’s hard to believe you want to hide yourself away. Didn’t you once famously say that the world was your runway?”
“Pretty sure that was Coco Chanel,” he said with a huff.
By the time high school rolled around, we seemed to have little in common, so I had a feeling this arrangement would end in five seconds flat. But maybe it was worth a shot.
“And how about you?” he asked. “You’ve got some big-shot sports job, so I figured you’d be invited to plenty of events.”
I was only high profile in my city; anywhere else, no one would know me from Adam. And really, most only knew my voice from the radio or my style of writing from my weekly sports column in the newspaper. I was surprised Blair knew anything about me at all. But social media certainly gave people a snapshot of people’s lives and probably made you feel closer to the truth than you really were. And also, strangely, not so alone. Such a juxtaposition.
“Not interested in doing much of anything. Though I was gonna catch an AHL game at this smaller arena in downtown Sarasota.” When he looked confused, I clarified. “Hockey. Minor league.”
“It’s obviously in your blood,” he remarked, and I nodded.
After an awkward second, he turned his eyes to the window again as the sky darkened and the tide drew closer to the house. “Damn, this view.”
The wistfulness in his tone surprised me.
“That’s saying something, coming from an international model,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, but those were random places. Maybe because there’s history here, this feels more like home,” he replied, not looking at me, and I couldn’t help taking in his chiseled jaw and wavy blond locks as I was transported again to bonfires on the beach and dunking contests in the ocean.
“So, um, thanks for letting me stay. I hope you don’t regret it,” he muttered. “I might still decide to take off in the morning, but at least I can just crash for tonight?”
“Yeah, no problem. I’m the one who ruined your vacation, remember? So feel free to kick me out in the morning.”
“Nah, it’s cool. Seems we both had the same idea. Go figure.”
His smile made me feel a bit better. Blair was an absolutely gorgeous guy…which I never would’ve admitted to myself before. Not that he was my type. Hell no. Plus, history and all.
He lifted his bag and turned toward the stairs. “What bedroom did you take?”
“Top left.” All four were a decent size, but this was the one I preferred.
“Then, I’ll take my usual as well,” he said around a yawn.
“Totally cool. Night, Blair.”
“Night, Cady,” he said over his shoulder.
My teeth clenched. “I’ll kick your ass.”
He smirked. “You definitely could with those guns.”
I self-consciously looked at my biceps and then noted the difference to Blair’s lean and toned model stature. I felt strange standing there watching him walk up, so I turned away.
But the way Blair’s laughter echoed
through the hallway somehow made me grin too.
3
Blair
I woke in a room I was familiar with and yet not because it had been years since I stayed at the beach house, but honestly, not much had changed except for the position of the single bed and the comforter. Christopher’s wife, Tabitha, was always changing things up, and I knew they’d last been here in the fall. They obviously also employed a cleaning crew regularly because no dust was in sight.
I hadn’t slept that deeply in weeks without any weed or alcohol in my system to help me along, and it might’ve been the sound of the ocean that had lulled me into a quiet slumber. That, and the lessened pressure of people and responsibilities and entertaining for entertainment’s sake. In fact, it felt almost too tranquil, and I wasn’t sure I could handle it for ten whole days. I might have to turn on some music or the television to drown out the silence, but for now, I felt at peace with my decision to come here.
Also notable was that for the first time, I didn’t crave having a warm body in bed with me, someone to distract me from all the noise in my head. All the loneliness that a body beside me helped dissipate, if only briefly. It felt refreshing, something I’d needed to do for a long while. What did my therapist call it? Recharging my batteries.
When I heard tinkering downstairs, I bolted up in bed as it all came rushing back. Caden and I sharing the same space. What the hell had I been thinking? I should pack it up and go home. But home for me was a small two-bedroom in a cold and boring town, and this right here felt good with the sun glimmering through the window. The ocean would help me feel more settled.
I picked up my phone to inform my parents that I was here with Caden, but then thought better of it. Instead, I shot out a quick text to let them know I arrived safely and would see them in a couple of weeks—maybe sooner if I couldn’t handle this, whatever this was. It was almost like sharing an Airbnb with a stranger because the owner got the dates mixed up.
But Caden wasn’t a stranger. We grew up together, and though I could tell you all his annoying habits from childhood, I certainly didn’t know the man he’d grown into. The very attractive man, let’s be honest. He was nice to look at, but so were plenty of other straight men. No way was I barking up the wrong tree for just one night—who was I kidding—for just one look or taste, which duh, would never come. Straight, remember? It was a little game I used to play when I was younger, usually with straight jocks, before I felt enough humiliation and got over myself. Now at least the terms were mutual and strictly for pleasure. Besides, Caden was my best friend’s brother, in a relationship, and if memory served me well, pretty dull. All the sports talk and extra testosterone could only go so far. He was strictly vanilla, and I didn’t do vanilla.
When I smelled the elixir of the gods brewing, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and rolled out of bed. I took a leak, then padded down the stairs in my pajama bottoms and a T-shirt.
Caden stood at the stove, looking way too grown up in a pair of form-fitting jeans, and I tried not to stare at how cute his butt looked because, eww, practically family. Also, stick up his ass. Fine ass or not.
He turned, his eyes creasing at the corners in a genuine smile, which nearly disarmed me. I supposed I thought he would remain as irritated by this situation as I was. But it seemed he was trying to embrace it, so I should too.
“Was it the coffee that got you down here?”
“How’d ya guess?” I replied around a yawn.
“I remembered you mainlined caffeine and not much of anything else.”
He wasn’t wrong, but still, it stung. “Ouch, thanks a lot.”
“You always said you had to be runway ready.” He looked me up and down, and I wondered what he saw. The negative voices left over from my eating disorder were normally like shadows in the background of my brain, telling me I wasn’t good enough. “Is that still true?”
“You tell me.” I struck the best pose I could for a morning wake-up call, and he chuckled and rolled his eyes. Cool. It brought just the levity we needed.
He opened the fridge and took out the creamer. “You usually did know how to be ready for anything at a moment’s notice.”
“Well, not anything,” I replied, and he actually blushed, maybe thinking the same thing? Interesting… “I’ve been called high maintenance, and I can’t disagree.”
He scooped some sugar into his cup. “But still the life of the party?”
It was way too early for this type of conversation. “As I recall,” I said, walking around the kitchen island to the coffee machine, “I could liven up any party you and your jock friends were at just by walking in.”
“Hey, watch it.” He waved the spoon at me. “Just because we were disciplined didn’t mean we never let loose.”
“Oh, I’m sure you let loose,” I replied after a sip that I could swear went straight to my soul. “But your kind of fun and mine were vastly different.”
He dipped his head, muttering, “You’d be surprised.”
“Yeah?” I was intrigued. “Do tell.” Unless he was talking about a kegger or toilet-papering someone’s house. Vanilla.
A shy little smile lined his lips, and I couldn’t help thinking something had definitely changed. “Nah. Maybe another time.”
I shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
We drank coffee in companionable silence, staring out at the surf. It was calming, but after another cup, my stomach growled, and I realized I hadn’t eaten anything in a long while. Shit. Not healthy and totally wouldn’t help my energy level, which was pretty tapped out.
Just as I had that thought, Caden pulled open the refrigerator. “I ran out to the store to get some things early this morning. I can make eggs.”
I had never been a fan of the texture of eggs, or bread, for that matter. The very idea made my mouth run dry. I refused to dry-heave right in front of him just thinking about it.
“No, thanks. I’ll just have to get—”
“Some yogurt?” he asked with a smile, lifting a container off the shelf. “I picked up the Greek kind just in case.”
“How did you—”
“I read an article about you a couple of years back, about a model’s eating habits.” Now his cheeks were beet red. “I remembered you said you loved Greek yogurt.”
I stared hard at him. I didn’t know what to think of his generosity or the fact that he’d sort of kept tabs on me. “Thanks. That’s really thoughtful.”
I reached for a spoon and dug into the yogurt at the kitchen island while he set out to make himself some eggs. I watched in silence as he seasoned them with salt and pepper. I didn’t know why I didn’t just walk away, but despite the initial awkwardness, there was also a blanket of comfort. We knew each other as kids, and I spent tons of hours with his family. And even though he had grown into a hot-as-hell guy, that same synergy from our youth had taken root again between us. Like having an irritating younger brother around that you got along with some days. Plus, until one of us decided to leave, we should probably start getting used to each other’s energy again.
As he sprinkled in some shredded cheese, I wanted to ask him what’d happened, if anything had at all. Why else would he leave his family and girlfriend to come out here all alone? Was it his job, or was there trouble in paradise?
But it was best I didn’t. Despite our shared history, we were never that close—only in proximity. Most of the stuff I heard about him had come from Christopher, who was the buffer between us. Better that way. At this point I was hoping this vacation wouldn’t end in disaster. I’d prefer to remain friendly with the guy, like through social media or whatever.
After breakfast, the day went by in a lull as we passed each other in the kitchen or on the deck, him on his laptop, me on my smartphone. I went out for my own grocery-store trip because I didn’t want to mooch off his food. But I didn’t end up buying much because it felt like I might not stay long after all. Truth was I was sort of restless already, and that was because I wasn’t use
d to all the quiet. There was always a party or a work gig or a hookup waiting, and being my own company was fucking hard and forcing me to realize some hard truths.
Except, I certainly didn’t want to see anyone either, so it was good that Caden was keeping to himself because that was exactly what we’d agreed on. In fact, if I didn’t hear him humming with his earbuds in, I might not have known he was really here at all.
After dusk, I walked through the great room to grab a water from the fridge and spotted Caden sprawled on the couch, watching a show.
“Is that…subtitles?” I squinted at the screen. I wasn’t sure why it surprised me. Christ, did I really think he was that shallow? I needed to stop thinking of the kid from our childhood and start considering the nuanced man he had become.
“Yeah, it’s this German science fiction series.” He picked up the remote and paused the show. “Want to watch it with me?”
“No, it’s okay,” I replied, almost sorry I asked. Though I did like a good mind-bender, and the music sounded cool and atmospheric. “I don’t want to interrupt.”
“It’s okay.” He pushed a button on the remote. “I’m only ten minutes in. I can rewind.”
“No, I—”
“Sit your ass down, Blair. I’ve never seen you pussyfoot around me before.”
“Okay, fine, Cady.” As soon as I sank down on the opposite end, a pillow came flying at my head.
I laughed and threw it aside, propping my feet on the end table.
“Why does that nickname bother you so much? Because it sounds feminine and you’re so manly?” I asked, using air quotes.
“Is that what you think?” He looked stricken.
“What else could explain it?” I scoffed. A memory surfaced of me walking by his table at the food court in the mall, where he sat with his beefy friends, his expression suggesting he’d die of embarrassment if I dared talk to him. At least that was my perception. Though I didn’t think I was that off-base. He seemed perfectly fine whenever I was at his house, watching a movie or playing video games.
Beautiful Temptation (So This is Christmas Book 2) Page 2
