Intimate

by Noelle Adams

  He’d never held her this close or stared at her this deeply. Baron had said that Caleb looked at her like he wanted to swallow her whole.

  Marissa tore her eyes away. That couldn’t be right. They were friends. Just friends. Had never been anything else. Why would Caleb all of a sudden want to change things?

  It felt like she was burning up, and she knew her cheeks must be blazing red. Her lips felt parched, so she slid her tongue out to lick them nervously. Tried to moisten them enough so they wouldn't feel like cracking.

  Then she caught a look on Caleb’s face—one she'd never seen there before—and quickly returned her tongue to her mouth.

  This was all Baron’s fault. He was the one who'd put these ridiculous ideas in her head to begin with.

  If it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t have thought anything was unusual at all. Wouldn’t notice the heat radiating off Caleb’s body. The fiery possessiveness of his gaze. The almost erotic rocking of his hips. The seductive circles his hand made as it warmly caressed her back.

  The same hand that slowly slid farther down, tracing along the curves that Baron had been touching only minutes ago. But it didn’t feel like it had when Baron palmed her ass.

  It felt like Caleb’s fingers were branding her, even through the fabric of her dress.

  The dress that Marissa had bought just that afternoon because it was Caleb’s favorite shade of dark red.

  But she had done that because she loved him. Loved him as a friend. And he’d been making her so happy and mushy lately. It had been a silly, sappy gesture, but it had been innocent.

  This—this was different. This was physical and unnerving and wrong.

  This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Not with Caleb.

  “Caleb?” she whispered, looking up at his intense face, her eyes pleading for him to make everything harmless and familiar and secure again between them.

  He shook his head and pulled her even closer, until her body was snugly pressed up against him. “Not now.”

  His body was hard, strong, and graceful. And familiar. Marissa had always loved being near it, loved feeling it beside her, against her.

  His body had always made her feel safe.

  It didn’t anymore.

  She was almost crying with confusion and dismay as her whole world slowly, inevitably fell down around her. Things had been so good. She and Caleb had been getting so close, so happy. Everything had been so…secure.

  Then the rest of her shattered world tumbled down when she unconsciously pressed into his pelvis. And felt something there.

  Something that should not be there. Not when Caleb was dancing with her.

  She gasped as she felt the bulge of what had to be his arousal. Waves of heat, of mortification, of bewilderment assailed her, and she briefly hid her face in his shoulder.

  Just two nights ago, she’d wept into that same shoulder. And he had held her, comforted her, made everything better.

  But that was when he’d been the Caleb she knew. Her Caleb. The Caleb who was her friend and didn’t find her attractive.

  Not this Caleb. Not this hot, intense, hard stranger.

  She didn’t even know who this man was.

  To her relief, the song ended at last.

  Marissa pulled out of his arms. They stared at each other for a long, tense moment.

  He looked like he was about to say something, but Marissa couldn’t stand it, couldn’t hear the words that she knew would demolish what was left of her world.

  So she escaped the only way she could.

  She whirled around and ran toward the women’s restroom.

  ***

  Marissa was doing her best not to sob as she barreled through the door and stood gasping in the bathroom. Glancing quickly under the three stalls, she was relieved to see that she was the only one in the room.

  She forced herself to breathe deeply. Moving over to the sink, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were burning, and even the fair skin on her neck and shoulders was pink against the wine-color of her dress. Her hair was tumbled—from the dancing, she assumed—and there was something wild in her eyes.

  Marissa almost didn’t recognize herself.

  Turning on the cold water, she splashed her hot cheeks, then blotted them dry with a paper towel, doing her best to preserve her discreet eye makeup. The rest of her makeup was a lost cause, so she dampened another paper towel and worked at cooling down her skin.

  Tried to convince herself she was being overly dramatic.

  Things weren’t as bad as they seemed. So Caleb had been aroused just now. It wasn’t the end of the world. It happened all the time. Men got hard. Big deal. Get over it. Move on.

  Yes, sex still made her feel sick, but she could deal with that. She’d had the same reaction for years, and she’d learned to work around it.

  But why had he been aroused by her? Was this the first time, or had he been having those kinds of thoughts for a while now? How had she not known about it?

  And what the hell was she supposed to do about it now?

  She and Caleb clearly needed to talk. Figure things out. Surely this type of unpleasant circumstance happened in friendships between men and women occasionally. It didn’t have to mean everything was irrevocably altered.

  It was just a physical response.

  They would talk about it. They could clear the air and go back to their familiar relationship. They were both adults. They could both act like adults.

  Marissa tried to be fair. Be honest. Tried to sort through her feelings. Closed her eyes and tried to imagine having sex with Caleb, to see if she was truly in denial about something she secretly wanted.

  Saw Caleb—handsome, brilliant, articulate Caleb, who could create such beauty out of strings and a bow—transformed into a sweaty, thrusting animal between her legs. Heard him panting and grunting out inane, demeaning things. Things she’d heard said to her babysitter years ago. Pictured him pawing at her, sweating on her, slapping his body against hers. Hurting her like the guy had in college.

  Marissa almost gagged at the thought.

  It didn’t matter that Caleb wasn’t normally like that. The guy in college hadn’t been either. The idea of sex had been prettified by romantic stories, but when it came right down to it, there was still just the raw, base ugliness of the act.

  She’d spoken to Caleb on the phone last night about keeping open possibilities in her life, and she’d meant it.

  Maybe eventually her feelings would change about sex. She didn’t want to trap herself because of bad experiences in her past.

  Maybe one day she’d have sex again.

  But not with Caleb.

  Never with Caleb.

  What she wanted from him was his friendship, his companionship, his care and concern, his humor, his wit, his intelligence, his depth, and the heart he never wanted to admit he had. She wanted the intimacy of their interaction, their cuddling together on the sofa. The warm fuzzy feelings he could evoke with only a quirk of his lips.

  She didn’t want him to fuck her.

  She would go back out there and act normal. Wait until they could get rid of Baron—damn the man anyway, for his arrogance and presumption in treating both of them like entertaining experiments—and then she would have a very serious conversation with Caleb.

  She’d feel much better after that was over.

  A woman Marissa recognized as a hostess at the restaurant came into the restroom just then. “Ms. Dalton?” she asked discreetly.

  “Yes.”

  “Your friend was a little worried about you and asked me to make sure you were all right.”

  Marissa flushed again and glanced at her watch. How long had she been in here anyway? Twenty minutes? Longer? “Oh, thanks. I’m fine. I’m going back out now.”

  Trying to smile, she exited the restroom and saw Caleb almost immediately. He was leaning against the wall across from the bathroom door with his hands in his pockets.

  He straighten
ed as soon as he saw her. Stepped over and gently cupped her cheek. It wasn’t a scary touch or a sexual one, so Marissa leaned her face into it. “Is everything all right?” His eyes were tender and slightly anxious, and the expression did a lot to relieve her fears about his sudden transformation.

  No, everything wasn’t all right, but she nodded and met his eyes evenly. She wasn’t going to be coward anymore. “Fine. Just too warm.”

  It was a ridiculous excuse, but Caleb didn’t question her. He watched her soberly without speaking, his hand moving lightly against her hot cheek.

  “Is Baron waiting?” she asked, in a voice that was so cheerful it sounded jarring to her own ears. His touch had been nice to begin with, but now it was going on too long.

  “Yes.” He dropped his hand and fell in stride with her as they went back to their table. “He ordered desserts, I believe.”

  Marissa had a sudden image of Baron James scarfing down three pieces cheesecake as he sat alone at the table and waited for them to return. Despite herself, she almost giggled at the image. “For just him? Or for us too?”

  “Us.”

  It was merely an answer to her question, but something about the way he said the one word made Marissa shoot a quick look in his direction. The sweetness had fled from his eyes now, and he was looking at her hungrily.

  Like she was the dessert.

  She jerked her head to the side, so she wouldn’t have to see his hot gaze.

  They definitely needed to have a little chat. This wouldn’t do at all. How was she supposed to act normally and rationally when he kept looking at her like that?

  They made it through dessert, although it was mostly a blur to Marissa. Then they said their goodbyes to Baron on the street outside the restaurant.

  Just before he walked away, Baron made a little turn and leaned over toward her until his lips were next to her ear. “Don’t give him too hard a time. And don’t hate me too much. It’ll be better out in the open.”

  She wasn’t sure if this were true or not, and she hadn’t yet forgiven him, so, putting a hand on his shoulder, she murmured into his ear, “You’re a miserable asshole who likes to torture people for fun.”

  Baron chuckled huskily and was about to respond, when Caleb made a move.

  Marissa panicked for no reason she could explain.

  She couldn't even specify how Caleb had moved. He hadn't taken a step or stretched out an arm. But the shift in his body felt aggressive, confrontational. So she pulled away from Baron and moved between them, suddenly terrified that they would actually get into a fight—no matter how insane and clichéd that would be.

  “Stop being grumpy," she demanded, glaring at Caleb. “Grumpy” wasn't actually the right word, but she thought deflection was her best strategy. “Baron was just saying goodbye." Then she turned to Baron, who’d been about to react automatically to Caleb’s aggression. “And, you, go away now. You’ve caused enough trouble.”

  Baron, recovering quickly, actually smiled in amusement again. “Well, I believe my work is done. Don’t hold a grudge, Caleb. My motives were spotless and pure.”

  “Get a grip,” she muttered to Caleb, when she saw him snarl.

  And then, to her immense relief, Baron disappeared into a cab.

  “Let’s go.” She pushed Caleb toward his car. “I’ve had just about enough of you and your macho stupidity.”

  “Marissa,” he began, finally relaxing and pulling himself together. The uncoiling of his tension was a great relief to her. She'd never seen Caleb so worked up—never, in her entire life.

  “Not now,” she said, using his words from earlier. “We’ll talk when we get back home.”

  The ride to her apartment building was silent and edgy, and Caleb kept looking over at her, as if he were trying to read her mind.

  She didn’t know what to think—about anything. But she did know certain things had to be addressed if they were ever going to get past this awkward tangle.

  So she spent the entire ride planning out a rational, convincing speech. She’d approach Caleb diplomatically. Get him to open up. Convince him to see reason. And then smooth over any remaining weirdness between them.

  She was pleased with her plan of attack and had all the words strategically planned out in her mind as he walked her up to her apartment.

  When they reached her door, they both went in and stood in the entryway staring at each other.

  “We need to talk,” she began, ready to launch into her well-planned speech.

  “Yeah. We do.” He paused. “How would you like to start?”

  Marissa took a deep breath. Looked into his eyes. Couldn’t look away. Was so startled and terrified by what she saw there that she forgot her entire speech. Said something unplanned. Instinctive. Utterly stupid.

  “Are you in love with me or something?”

  Ten

  Caleb said the first thing that popped into his head. “No!”

  Marissa blinked but revealed no other reaction.

  “I mean,” he mumbled, realizing what he’d just said and not sure if it was even true, “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

  God, he sounded like a moron. How had he descended into such a state of pathetic incoherence?

  “Caleb, please tell me what’s going on.”

  He was ready to tell her. He just wished he knew how to explain it.

  Emotions were so much easier to articulate if they weren’t so jumbled, chaotic, and overwhelming—like a storm inside his chest. He managed to say, “My feelings for you are changing.”

  Marissa nodded, as if that came as no surprise to her. How could it? After he’d been hard against her while they were dancing? After he’d acted like a mindless caveman and insecure teenager at dinner with James?

  She was watching him closely now. “You’re starting to…to lust after me?”

  Something about the way she said it made Caleb feel guilty—as if lusting after her had betrayed her faith in him. “Yes. But there are other feelings too.”

  If only he knew what to do with those feelings.

  “So now you’re trying to get me into bed?”

  “Don’t make it sound dirty. I thought maybe you had feelings like mine but hadn’t realized it. I should have just come out and told you, but this is as strange for me as it is for you. I’ve never been in a situation like this before.”

  He hadn’t, so he’d been trying to deal with it the same way he’d dealt with his romantic interests in the past. His moves had never failed before. They’d always gotten him what he wanted.

  But they hadn’t worked on Marissa. At all.

  She looked upset, bewildered. “So what do you expect to happen now?”

  “I don’t know. I really don’t. I just want to follow through on these feelings and see what happens.”

  “We’re friends, Caleb. That’s all we’ve ever been.”

  “Why can’t that change?” He suddenly felt better. If she was starting to debate the issue, then that meant at least she was taking it seriously.

  “I don’t want it to change.”

  Only the stupid, arrogant part of his self had hoped she would melt from a few of his touches, confess to secret feelings for him, and then let him carry her off to bed. The rest of his self—the sane, intelligent, realistic part—knew that this was going to be rather difficult. They had years of set patterns to dismantle between them, but he wouldn’t let that intimidate him. “I didn’t want it to change either. But it changed anyway.”

  She looked away, covering her mouth with her hand. “I don’t want to mess up what we have.”

  He was getting encouraged, as she appeared to start to waver. “It won’t mess things up between us. It will only make them better.”

  “No, it won’t. Friendships don’t survive something like this.”

  “We’ll still be friends. That will never change. We’ll just add something more to our friendship.” He chose his words and pitched his voice intentionally, knowing what appea
led to her, knowing the way her mind worked.

  “So we’ll be friends who fuck?” she asked, looking vaguely disgusted at the thought.

  “No!” He was horrified that she thought that was what he had in mind. “I don’t want to just fuck you.” He took a deep breath, tried to find the words. Forced his way through the resistance that rose up as he started to speak. “I want a relationship with you,” he managed to say, although his voice was strained and unnatural.

  He’d never said anything like that before, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

  “We’re in a relationship. We have been since we were kids.” She swallowed so hard he could see it. “What you’re saying is that you want our relationship to be romantic.”

  “Yes.” He was glad she’d said the words instead of him. That was exactly what he wanted.

  “And sexual,” she added, something strange flickering across her expression.

  “Yes.”

  “And what will happen to our friendship when the romantic relationship is over?”

  “Why do you assume it will end? There’s a risk in beginning any relationship. That’s what you face when you enter one.”

  “It’s too big a risk.” She glanced away and down to the floor. “I can’t lose you.”

  He was close now. He could feel it. She must be on the edge—only fear was holding her back. He made his voice as confident and gentle as he was capable of. “So we’ll make sure that never happens.”

  She didn’t respond. Didn’t look back up. Didn’t seem to react in any way.

  They were both still standing in the entryway, and Caleb still had his back to the front door. Marissa was a few feet away, looking small and lost and lovely in her red dress. Her skin was fair, almost luminescent. Her eyes were lowered, causing her eyelashes to fan out against her skin.

  His body reacted to her, but so did his heart. They were both pulling him toward her, compelling him to claim what was his.

  What had always been his.

  It was time to change tactics, so he took a step closer and took her hand lightly in his. “Marissa, are you saying that you don’t have any sexual feelings for me at all?” He asked the question gently, no demand or intensity in his tone.