by Noelle Adams
She put her fork down and looked down at her half-eaten salad. “I really thought this would be better for you.”
She was upset. She was disappointed. He never should have said anything. “I know you did. It is better.”
Her eyes darted up. “You seem so much better now than you were last year. When I saw you in New York…”
She trailed off, but she didn’t need to finish. He’d been a wreck in every way when she’d found him in New York. She’d come to attend one of his performances, but instead she’d had to rescue him.
The two years of touring after college were mostly a blur. He’d indulged. Too much. In everything. He hated who he’d been back then, the man Marissa had found.
He was determined not to let it happen again.
“Is that why you hurt your hand? You were doing something for excite—” Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at it automatically.
“Take it,” he said, when it looked like she was going to silence the ringer.
She hesitated briefly but ended up connecting the call.
Caleb was glad for the interruption.
He watched her face as she spoke briefly on the phone. Her eyes were intent, her cheeks lightly flushed, and her supple lips mobile and expressive. It was a lovely face and an intelligent one. One that was very familiar to him.
He knew it by heart, knew it by memory, would know it forever.
He felt an unexpected pull toward her, and it wasn’t only located in the predictable region of his body. It was elsewhere as well. In his chest—a strange, heavy, tight feeling tugging at him, drawing him toward her.
He didn’t like it. Wished it would just go away. It was messing everything up, and he couldn’t let that happen.
Marissa was the best thing in his life.
A few nights ago, Caleb had picked up a woman in a bar—in a desperate attempt to purge himself of this desire for Marissa. The woman was young and plenty hot, and they should have had a very good night.
They’d gotten to her place, but he’d barely gotten to the bedroom when he’d been forced to admit he couldn’t do it.
He’d gotten his body to respond the way it should, but no other part of him wanted to fuck that woman.
So he’d ended up leaving before anything more happened.
After they finished lunch and were walking out of the restaurant, Caleb had come to a few inevitable conclusions.
This desire for Marissa wasn’t going away on its own.
So he would have to do something about it.
Five
One of Caleb’s ex-girlfriends was sitting with her husband across the jazz club from them.
Sharisse was her name. Four years older than Caleb. Gorgeous, tall, willowy, with thick auburn hair and huge brown eyes.
Marissa didn’t like her at all.
She hadn’t been a huge fan of any of Caleb’s girlfriends, but she had a particular antipathy for Sharisse.
Caleb had dated her two years ago, shortly after he’d started touring after college. She’d been a bad influence on him from the beginning. With her, he’d drunk too much, gotten too little sleep, and started believing all the hype about himself, which caused him to treat other people inconsiderately.
Including Marissa.
It wasn’t fair to blame all of that on Sharisse, but Marissa had trouble not blaming her for some of it.
Fortunately, he’d only dated the woman for two months.
It was water under the bridge now. Caleb had recovered from that phase in his life and was healthier in every way. But Marissa still wasn’t happy about seeing Sharisse across the club that evening, sitting with her adoring, new husband.
Caleb hadn’t seemed to notice Sharisse, but Marissa knew that his ex-girlfriend's presence wasn’t something he could have missed.
He was acting strange tonight. He’d been acting strange for three weeks now, ever since that party when Marissa had fallen into the pool.
At first he’d been cool and distant.
Now he was just being…weird.
First, the way he’d asked her to go with him tonight had been strange. They hung out together all the time, but he always asked her to do things in a casual, offhand way.
But he’d made a point of calling and explaining that someone he knew was giving a special performance on the saxophone at this club tonight. He’d asked as if he cared about her answer, and then he’d sounded pleased at her positive response.
Marissa had immediately become suspicious. If it had been any time around her birthday, she would have assumed he was planning a surprise party for her. Even now, she was vaguely convinced he had something planned for tonight that didn’t involve simply going to the club.
He was plotting something. She was sure of it.
She just had no idea what it was.
Marissa shrugged off her baffled reflections and tried to focus on the performance. The man who played looked around thirty and was one of the best-looking men she’d ever seen.
He also knew how to play the sax.
Caleb leaned over in his chair until his mouth almost brushed her ear. “He’s better than I was expecting.” His voice was low—as was necessary, given the context—but it sounded unusually husky and textured. His warm breath wafted over the skin of her face and neck.
She fought the impulse to pull away from him.
She didn’t know why he was leaning in so close, but she didn’t like it. It made her feel restless and fidgety.
She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, though, since she knew he didn’t mean anything by it, so she made herself smile in response. “He’s fantastic. How do you know him?”
“I hung out with his younger brother some, after college.”
Marissa knew all of Caleb’s friends until he’d graduated, but there were a number she didn’t know from those two years afterwards. “His family really owns James Coffee?”
“Yeah.”
“What kind of name is Baron?”
“A family name, I think.”
“It sounds like he belongs in a racy historical romance novel.”
“I don’t think he’d have a problem with that idea.”
She turned her face toward Caleb, still smiling. Then swallowed hard when she realized he hadn’t pulled back. So now their mouths were about an inch apart.
From this proximity, she could see his face clearly, even in the dim light of the club. His silvery-gray eyes were warm and fond. His lips were relaxed and supple. The adorable little dent above his mouth seemed exaggerated in the deep shadows. And his mouth was…
…just too close.
Marissa backed away, as discreetly as she could.
Caleb usually liked his space—just like she did.
She could feel him beside her. Actually feel him.
He seemed inordinately big and hot and in her face this evening. It was unsettling. And honestly rather annoying.
Now she was feeling hot too. And kind of shivery at the same time. To her surprise and irritation, she noticed goosebumps popping out on her arms.
As she should have expected, Caleb noticed it too. Immediately. And there his mouth was, back at her ear again. “Cold?”
Using the excuse he’d offered—which was more convenient than trying to explain how she was feeling a strange energy coming off him—she nodded without turning toward him.
Unfortunately, her attempt to ease back into normal interaction backfired, since he immediately, courteously reached around her back to help her pull her little sweater around her bare shoulders.
It was an innocuous, considerate gesture. One Caleb had performed for her hundreds of times before. But this time when his hand brushed against her bare skin, she had to force herself not to jerk away from his touch.
This was ridiculous. She shouldn’t be feeling awkward and uncomfortable around him. Even if he was being touchier than normal.
Even if his arm remained draped across her shoulders!
What the hell was wron
g with him tonight?
His fingers kept moving. Idly playing against her skin, since somehow they’d slipped underneath the fabric of the sweater he’d so kindly replaced.
Marissa sat stiffly and tried not to think about Caleb and his inexplicable behavior. Tried not to dwell on the weight of his arm against her back.
In any other man, she would assume he was making a move on her. But this was Caleb, and that was just impossible. The notion couldn’t even be given space in her mind.
There must be another logical explanation for it.
She just hadn’t figured out what it was yet.
Then she glanced back across the club and saw Sharisse glaring at the two of them resentfully.
In that moment, everything made perfect sense.
Marissa tried not to fight an irrational indignation at the crystal-clear revelation.
It was human nature, after all, for Caleb to want to make his ex-girlfriend jealous.
It might be conscious or unconscious—Marissa wasn’t really sure. But every human being knew the feeling. If someone appeared unexpectedly who had hurt or insulted you in the past, then you wanted to prove to that person that you were blissfully happy without them.
That must be why Caleb was being so touchy. Why he was acting like they were on a date or something.
It bothered her that he would still care enough about Sharisse to want to make her jealous, but at least it made sense of his behavior this evening.
Marissa forced her eyes back to Baron James and his sax. Sighed in relief when Caleb removed his arm from the back of her chair.
Then he leaned over to her again. “I guess he’s getting more involved in his family’s business now, but he’d still rather have fun and play jazz.”
A harmless comment. A random piece of information. But his lips actually brushed against her ear this time.
Marissa couldn't help it. She jerked away from him. Then flushed with mortification at her instinctive reaction, her heart pounding wildly.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this unsettled.
It hadn’t been for years.
She couldn’t help but sneak a glance at his face to see how he’d reacted to her obvious rudeness.
His lips were pressed together, his expression was clearly frustrated, and he’d pulled himself stiffly away from her.
Marissa sighed. She had hurt his feelings.
She knew he was hurt, since he was all tense and distant and chilly. He made no further attempt to touch her during the remainder of the performance.
Staring Baron James blankly, Marissa tried to process what she was feeling. Embarrassment, annoyance, guilt, and exasperation over how strange this whole evening had been.
And relief. She couldn’t deny it. She was really, really glad that Caleb remained in his own space.
She made some casual, friendly comments as Baron finished and the audience applauded. Her attempt at reconciliation seemed to soothe Caleb’s wounded feelings because soon he was his normal self.
They chatted lightly while they stood up, and Marissa noticed Sharisse and her fatuous husband snuggling shamelessly against the far wall.
Then it happened. Just as they were stepping away from their table.
Caleb put his hand on the small of her back.
Now, he had always done something like that occasionally. It seemed automatic, unconscious for him. Just an unthinking hand on her back to guide her along.
But this felt different. This was purposeful, directed. And his hand wasn’t in its proper location—near the middle of the back. It was instead very, very low. Almost against the top of her butt.
The gesture didn’t feel friendly or casual. It felt protective, territorial, almost possessive.
And for some reason it made Marissa furious.
“Stop it,” she snarled, pushing his arm away from her.
Caleb stared at her in astonishment, but obediently pulled his hand away. “Stop what?”
Her heart was pounding again, and her face was flushed. “Stop using me like a convenient body. I’m not here to be at your disposal.”
His mouth actually dropped open, and his face flooded with confusion, annoyance, and then something almost like guilt. “What are you talking about?” But his voice made it sound like he already knew.
“I mean,” she gritted out through clenched teeth, trying to keep her voice low since she really didn’t want to have an argument in public, “stop using me to make your ex-girlfriend jealous.” She jerked her head toward Sharisse to emphasize her point.
If anything, Caleb looked even more baffled. He peered in the direction Marissa had indicated, as if he wasn’t aware that Sharisse was even present.
“I wasn’t. Why the hell would I care enough to do such an inane thing?”
Exactly the question that Marissa was wondering. And—for some reason—the question that worried her the most.
She scowled at him, trying to temper her anger, which she knew was irrational and uncalled for. “She was sitting right across from us the whole time. Don’t bother telling me you didn’t see her. And why else have you been all touchy tonight?”
Something grew very still in Caleb’s face. “And this is the explanation you’ve come up with?”
There was a quality to the composed, precise articulation of his words that made Marissa stop short. It did sound ridiculous, now that she thought about it. No wonder he was insulted.
She sighed deeply and wished she could sink into the floor. “I’m sorry. It was stupid. I guess you wouldn’t be so petty. But you’re confusing the hell out of me, and that was the best explanation I could come up with.” She had a passing thought that made her snicker. “Unless you suddenly find my luscious body so irresistible that you can hardly keep your hands off me.”
Amused at the absurdity of this suggestion, Marissa snorted at her own wit. Then she couldn’t stop, and she burst into peals of helpless laughter.
Caleb didn’t seem to find it quite so funny.
He was actually glaring at her, waiting for her to stop laughing. In his dark shirt and trousers, he was handsome and masculine. Even with his icy glare, Marissa realized that most women would find him extraordinarily sexy.
How fortunate for both of them that Marissa had no such inconvenient feelings.
“Sorry,” she gasped, trying to pull herself together. “Although I’m not sure what’s happened to your sense of humor. What’s gotten into you tonight?”
“Nothing.” After a moment, he added, “I realize that I’ve been closing you out lately, so I thought I would try to make more of an effort.”
And that answered almost everything.
Marissa smiled, immensely relieved. “That was awfully nice of you. But, just so you know, being normal is the best way to make an effort.”
She hoped he understood what she was saying—back off on the weirdness.
Earlier, she’d sensed a tense, jittery, sick feeling emerging slowly from the darkness where she’d hidden it—but now it was safely tucked away where it wouldn’t bother her.
He nodded, smiled, and then looked away as they made their way through the lobby.
Marissa slanted looks at him from the corner of her eye, and she was a little worried when she noticed that he still looked a bit hurt and defensive.
She really hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings by accusing him of trying to make his ex jealous. She should have known better. It must be some kind of repressed resentment and insecurity coming out about Sharisse.
She reached out to put a hand on his arm. “I am sorry. Forgive me for being an idiot?” She presented him with her best, puppy-dog expression.
He gave her a reluctant smile in response. “As if I wouldn’t. You’ve certainly forgiven me for enough.” He looked intently at her hand on his sleeve. Something about the look made Marissa pull away. Then he continued, “Now, if you don’t think I have some kind of underlying agenda, I was going to ask if you wanted to get somethi
ng to eat.”
Marissa clapped her hands in delight, relieved that things were back to normal. “A dessert place, please.”
Caleb chuckled warmly. So warmly that Marissa got nice, fuzzy feelings in her belly and, contrarily, moved closer to him, so that her shoulder was rubbing against his arm.
It had been a strange evening, but Caleb was her best friend.
The weirdness was probably exaggerated in her mind.
Six
“The elevator’s here,” Marissa called out from around the corner. “Are you coming or not?”
Caleb, who had been rehearsing with three friends for a private trio performance in a practice room at the university, where two of them were grad students, rattled off a few more suggestions to the others and then hurried down the hall to where Marissa was holding the elevator.
She had unexpectedly dropped by a few minutes ago to persuade him into going to lunch with her. Since he hadn’t seen her since they’d gone to the club the previous weekend, he’d stopped the rehearsal earlier than he’d planned.
Of course, he hadn’t told her that he’d rearranged his entire schedule because of her casual invitation.
Thoughts and fantasies about her had been distracting him all week. She’d been busy with another big paper for the last few days. Four and a half days, to be precise. She’d called him a couple of times, but she’d been too absorbed to talk much.
He was finally starting to get used to lusting after her constantly, but he hadn't expected—and he really didn’t like—the fact that he’d missed her so much this week.
He’d gone weeks without seeing her in the past, and he’d never missed her this much.
Caleb made sure he wasn’t acting unusual as he stepped onto the elevator with Marissa. He’d made a mistake last weekend at the club. He’d gotten too eager about the new possibility of a different kind of relationship with her and had gotten ahead of himself.
If he kept acting different, though, he was going to spook Marissa instead of enticing her.
And that would end up being counter-productive.
He didn’t really have much of a plan at this point. He was just absurdly glad to be with her at all, after missing her all week.
