by Noelle Adams
She was looking at him strangely, so he schooled his expression so he didn’t appear quite so excited.
“What’s going on with you?” she asked, taking a step closer.
Pushing the button for the ground floor, Caleb avoided her eyes and tried to act bland. “What do you mean?”
“You’re all wound up about something. Do you have some sort of delicious scheme in the works that you haven’t told me about?”
He smiled, finally pulling himself together enough to say convincingly, “I’m just restless today, and I’m glad you stopped by. I’ve been working hard this week, and I needed the break. Besides, you’re the one who looks like she’s going to explode with excitement.”
She laughed and reached over to give him a hug. “I’m just really proud of my paper. I think it might actually be publishable.”
Before he could respond, the elevator stopped on the next floor down, and the doors slid open. Caleb saw a crowd in the hallway and recognized them unmistakably as students.
A class must have just gotten out.
He hated crowded elevators. Hated them.
He was tempted to get off and take the stairs instead, but the students started pushing their way in before he could react, so he and Marissa ended up trapped in a corner.
While the students laughed casually about the tight quarters, Caleb shifted so that the front of his body wasn’t facing Marissa. His body seemed to be basically under control today, but he wasn’t going to risk rubbing against her.
He was strangely attuned to her, though. He could feel her breathing against his shoulder blade.
It was only a short distance to the ground floor. He could handle the crowded space, and it was nice to be close to Marissa without worrying about her becoming suspicious.
When the elevator was between the next two floors, it jerked suddenly to a stop.
The lights flickered a few times, until they finally remained on, but the elevator didn’t start to move again.
There were the predictable groans and grumbles, and someone reached for the emergency phone to call down for help. After a brief conversation, the girl informed everyone that help was on its way and that there was nothing to worry about.
A relieved murmur followed this announcement.
Caleb, however, hadn’t said anything.
He was starting to feel overly warm, and for once it wasn’t from being too close to Marissa. He hated feeling trapped, closed in, claustrophobic—and this was starting to feel like a nightmare.
The elevator was too crowded for him to move around. He couldn’t get off. He couldn’t breathe anything but hot, stale air. And it could continue like this indefinitely.
He really wanted to get out of there.
He controlled his expression so no one would see his reaction. The students were talking, but he didn’t hear anything but a low, annoying hum in the background.
His ears were ringing painfully, and he was now slammed with waves of intense heat.
He wanted to scream. Wanted to hit something. Wanted to claw his way through the floor.
Then he felt something move against his back.
Marissa. Pressing up against him from behind. He could feel her soft breasts pushing into his back, and her hand slipped up to his shoulder.
It should have made it worse—should have made him even more trapped to have someone that close, when everyone else was already way too close.
But her quiet presence actually helped.
He knew she wasn’t making a sexual advance or initiating anything romantic. She had either sensed how he was feeling and was trying to soothe him, or she was silently seeking comfort and stability herself.
The situation wasn’t exactly scary. It was just very, very unpleasant. At least, that was what it should have been for anyone who wasn’t suffering from Caleb’s irrational panic.
The feel of Marissa’s body distracted him enough to push aside his response to being closed in. Deciding it would be foolish to waste such an opportunity, he turned around to face her, trying to fight through the cloud of dizziness and think of a smooth way to get her to recognize their physical compatibility. Without frightening her away.
It was a very tricky balancing act, and he wasn’t really in the mental condition to think clearly.
He knew something had happened when she was a kid that turned her off sex, but in every other way she was healthy and had things together. If she would just open herself up to the possibility, he thought she might give sex another chance.
Hopefully, with him.
Marissa was standing in the corner, so when he turned around he was blocking her from the rest of the elevator. Her cheeks were red, and she hadn’t lowered her hand, so now it rested on his chest.
“All right?” he asked, in a voice so hushed no one else would have heard it.
She nodded, smiling a little. “Yeah. You?”
Caleb tried not to cringe and tried not to think about all of the other people imprisoning him in this tiny, hot space. “Fine.”
“You sure? I know you don’t like to feel trapped.”
He had no idea how she knew that. He had certainly never shared his phobia with her. “Who does?”
“No one,” she agreed, stretching up so she could talk closer to his ear. “But some people like it even less than others.”
She looked concerned. About him. Which wouldn’t do at all.
“I’m fine,” he insisted.
The students were having a loud conversation about how and when they would be rescued.
At hearing the talk, the panic returned in a rush. He really needed some space and fresh air. He closed his eyes briefly and tried to process his reactions—tried to reason himself out of his growing alarm.
He didn’t want Marissa to see how panicked he was.
He knew she liked to take care of people, but he would prefer to take care of her.
She rubbed his chest gently, the sensation of her hand through his shirt pleasant and soothing. He hoped she couldn’t feel his heart drumming painfully.
“Try to think about something else,” she said. “If you pass out, you’ll smush me, and there’s no room in here to lay you down.”
Caleb knew she was using humor to distract him, but the evidence of her concern made his chest hurt, made it feel like it was ruthlessly squeezed in a vice.
The hand on his chest stopped moving. Then she pinched him hard on the sensitive flesh of his lower side, causing him to grunt in surprise. “I mean it. Think about something else. Fantasize about your next concert. Or your next fuck.”
“Marissa,” he said, an edge of warning in his voice.
“I don’t care what you think about. Just think about anything other than where you are now.”
She was right. It was a good idea. He didn’t think he’d be able to do it, though.
She was standing so close he could feel the warmth of her body, and occasionally her breasts or hips would brush lightly against him.
He thought with a sting of humiliation about his miserable failure last weekend at the club. He’d genuinely thought that all she would need was a little push in the right direction.
She had issues about sex, but she’d also never had any good sexual experiences. He wanted to give her that.
He knew how to seduce women, but she hadn’t even known what he was trying to do. Since she was smart and perceptive most of the time, he had to assume she didn’t recognize his advances because she wasn’t interested in them.
She hadn’t wanted him, so she hadn’t put the pieces together.
It wasn’t a pleasant thought.
No one had not wanted him before.
This was working. He was thinking about something else, and it was distracting him from the panic. If only he could think about something less painful.
Marissa had reached up and was massaging the back of his neck, resting her cheek against his shirt. It was intended as a comforting gesture, but it caused her whole body to a
lign with his.
He couldn’t help but react to the delicious press of her body.
Fighting to hold himself still and not slide his hands down to her ass and press her hips closer, he breathed deeply.
He was getting hard now—from the feel of her, the scent of her, the touch of her, the sweetness and generosity that shaped everything she did.
Adjusting slightly, he eased his pelvis away as much as he could.
She didn’t resist the move, but she also didn’t stop massaging the back of his neck, as if she could make things better just by the touch of her fingers.
She was always trying to make things better for him. It was part of who she was.
A part of her he wanted desperately, just as much as her lush little body.
The surge of emotion didn’t distract him from his physical response, but rather heightened it. He was really hard now and having trouble not acting on it.
He wanted to push her back against the wall, rock his arousal into her. He wanted to make her come with his hands, his mouth, his cock.
He closed his eyes. Tried not to move. Tried not to breathe.
The elevator started up again with another jerk, causing him to open his eyes.
“Thank God,” Marissa said softly. “Are you all right? You kind of zoned out, and you got so tense.”
“Fine.”
He was embarrassingly hard now. He turned his body strategically to make sure she wouldn’t come into contact with it.
The other people in the elevator were moving around in relief, and one of them accidentally knocked against Caleb. He was pushed toward Marissa, but managed to reach out and grab her by the shoulders, keeping her body safely away from his.
So far, she had no idea how aroused he was right now. Unless she brushed against him or stared at his crotch, she would continue not to know.
She didn’t look at his crotch. Just kept peering at his face.
Finally, the elevator doors slid open on the ground floor. They had to wait until everyone else got off, but then they were finally free.
He stepped off quickly, sucking in a deep breath of fresh air.
But he wasn’t safe yet. He was still in a very awkward physical condition.
He ducked into the men’s restroom without explaining.
It was several minutes before he came out again, feeling much more like himself and again composed and controlled. The first thing he saw when he walked out was Marissa seated on the floor in the hall, propped up against the wall across from him.
She smiled cheerfully when she saw him. “All right?”
He returned her smile, pleased that he could do so easily. “Just fine.”
She heaved herself to her feet. Then she reached out and took hold of his shirt before he could make his way to the door. “Seriously, Caleb. You scared the shit out of me. You’re sure you’re all right?”
She had been scared. Was still scared, if he could judge by the lingering anxiety in her eyes. “Yes. It was just a random panic thing. Nothing to get worked up about.”
“I know you have to be all stoic and unflinching, but there’s nothing wrong with telling me how you feel. I won’t think less of you if you admit to not being fearless. And it might have really helped. For a minute there back in the elevator, I thought you were actually going to explode.”
Caleb choked on an ironic laugh. He’d been pretty close to exploding—that was true—just not the way she imagined.
“All better now. Let’s go to lunch.”
Marissa nodded, silently complying with the end of the conversation. She brushed at the back of her pants. “Is there anything on my butt? I’m not sure that floor was entirely clean.”
Since she offered her ass up for his inspection, Caleb had no choice but to look. He didn’t, however, allow his eyes to linger very long on the delicious curves. “Your ass is fine.”
“Oh, now it’s fine. Last I heard, it was too big.”
Caleb felt a sudden wave of fury at her idle words. Did his best to suppress the violent anger but couldn’t hide the protective resentment in his voice when he demanded, “Who the hell said that about you?”
Her laughter fading, she looked at him strangely. “You did.” Her tone didn’t convey any accusation, but the words felt like a blow. Like someone had punched him in the gut.
“I never said anything so ridiculous.”
“You certainly did. It was just last month, when I was complaining about my jeans being too tight.”
God. Caleb remembered now. He had mentioned her ass. It hadn’t been an insult, but his teasing hadn’t been particularly sensitive. How could he have ever said such a thing?
Without thinking, he muttered, “Nonsense. Your ass is spectacular.”
Her mouth fell open adorably, and she looked embarrassed and rather gratified at his graceless compliment.
But she looked so surprised that Caleb was suddenly struck with the realization that he wasn’t even close to getting what he wanted. He had miles to go before Marissa could even fathom that he might really find her attractive.
And it was his own fault that this was so difficult. He’d been blind and insensitive for too many years—a jerk, as she’d called him so long ago—and now he was paying the price.
* * *
Caleb could feel a headache pounding at his temple as he tried vainly to focus on the music.
He’d been practicing since before dawn without any stopping at all.
He always did this when he was stressed by other things—played the cello until he was ready to drop, in the hopes that he wouldn’t have to think about anything else.
It hadn’t been a very good day, and it hadn’t helped that Marissa hadn’t called him or stopped by today.
It was unusual. Today was Saturday, which was the day she typically nagged him most relentlessly, the day she refused to let him bury himself in music or sleep the day away.
He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear them. He was so exhausted that he could barely see the bow or strings in front of him.
A few more hours, and then he could go to bed in absolute exhaustion.
It was actually fortunate that Marissa seemed to be ignoring him today. He was glad of it. He couldn’t deal with his inexplicable physical and emotional reactions to her today.
But why hadn’t she called? She always called or came by on Saturdays. She would tease and pester him, and then they’d get something to eat or catch a movie or just sit around and talk.
Maybe she had something better to do today. Caleb refused to let it bother him. He didn’t feel even the slightest bit hurt by her neglect.
And he definitely wasn’t going to call her to make sure she was all right.
He caught himself reaching for the phone but stopped himself just in time.
Caleb still had his pride after all, and this newly formed lust was not going to change who he was, how he acted, or the way he handled himself.
“Handled” wasn’t exactly the word he was looking for.
But what it all came down to was the fact that he wasn’t going to let Marissa change the man he’d always been.
The phone rang, and Caleb almost pounced at the sound, reaching to snatch it up.
It was about time she remembered he existed.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.” Her voice was more subdued than normal. She must be tired today too.
“Hi.”
“Are you busy?” Her voice sounded a little odd—maybe she’d been napping all afternoon.
“Practicing.”
“All day?”
“I grabbed some lunch.”
“Caleb.” Marissa’s voice started to sound more natural as it took on an edge of impatience. “You know better than to—”
“I’m fine,” he interrupted, sounding more terse than he’d intended. “And I don’t need you nagging me right now.”
Why was he acting so grouchy with her when he’d been wanting to talk to her all day?
&
nbsp; “Okay,” she said, the one word sounding a little choked.
Caleb sighed. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.”
“I know.”
“Did you want something?”
Damn it. Why had he asked that? It had sounded—even to his ears—like her call had been unwelcome and he was eager to get rid of her so he could get back to what was really important.
“No,” she said quickly. “I was just wondering if you might want to come over tonight.”
Something softened in his chest at how wistful she sounded. Like she really wanted him there.
“I’ve got some more to do here, but maybe I can stop by afterwards.” He tried not to sound too eager. He wasn't eager, damn it. What was happening to him lately?
“Okay. If you’re too busy, no big deal. Maybe I’ll see you later.”
She’d sounded sincerely disappointed as she hung up, which was more solace than Caleb was entirely comfortable with.
She’d also sounded either tired or ill. He wondered if something was wrong with her.
He would go over to see her soon.
He’d just finish wrestling with this one piece, first. After all, tomorrow—the twenty-eighth—was the date of the performance…
Caleb’s heart suddenly dropped into his gut.
The twenty-eighth was tomorrow. Which meant today was the twenty-seventh.
He had completely forgotten.
He quickly jumped up and put his cello in its case. Grabbing a shirt to pull on over his dingy t-shirt, he ran down the empty hall toward the elevator.
No wonder Marissa had sounded so strange. She’d probably been crying.
According to the lighted numbers, the elevator was all the way on the ground floor. Which meant it would take a minute to get up to his floor to pick him up. Caleb couldn’t stand around and wait that long, so he didn’t even bother hitting the call button. He pushed open the door to the stairwell and raced down several flights of stairs.
Despite Saturday evening traffic, he made it over to her apartment building in record time. He knocked loudly on her door. Since she wasn’t expecting him, he felt awkward just barging in with his key.
There was no answer to his knock, so he called out, “Marissa, it’s Caleb. Let me in.”
