I Wanna Text You Up

by Teagan Hunter

  “That’s…”

  “Sad, I know. I feel bad for them.”

  “Wait.” Caleb takes his glove off and walks toward me. His blue eyes are lit with marvel. “You feel bad for them? After what they did to you?”

  “Yes. We were kids, they made a mistake—that doesn’t mean I wanted anything but happiness for them both.”

  His stare bores into me, eyes still sparking. “You’re amazing.”

  The words are whispered and then his mouth is on mine. This kiss is more passionate than our last as his hands cradle my face. He sets me at just the right angle, his tongue pressing against the seam of my lips, begging for entrance.

  I grant it.

  We kiss like we’ll never kiss again. Our tongues run together, exploring, learning. My hands grip his waist as I pull him closer to me, wanting to feel his hard body against mine.

  Our kiss grows more intense, his hands now roaming into my hair. He grips me harder, but soft enough that it doesn’t hurt. The pressure feels good, feels right. Our bodies mesh together and when he rocks against me, I can feel the affect our connection is having on him. My hands dip under his shirt and up as I feel my way across his muscled back and around to his sculpted abs.

  I begin to dip my hands into the front of his jeans but Caleb pulls away, his lips lingering on mine with a slow, lazy touch.

  “We should probably stop before this goes any further and I’m not able to stop.”

  I jerk away from him, the reality of what we’re doing setting in. I draw my hand to my mouth, touching the lingering tingle I feel there. I relish how good it feels.

  “Caleb…w-we can’t keep kissing like this.”

  “Why?”

  “Excuse me?”

  His eyes fall to slits. “Are you making up silly reasons in your head again? Before it was we couldn’t be roommates because I used to date Delia, and now…oh shit.” The proverbial light bulb goes off. “This is because of Delia, right? We can’t kiss because of her and what happened in your past. You’d feel like your ex.”

  “In a way, yes.”

  “You’re not him—we’re not them. Delia and I are over. We’ve been over. There’s nothing left there. I don’t see the harm in moving on when she has too.”

  I straighten my back and meet his heated gaze head on. “Because it’s so much more than that Caleb. You’re her ex. I’m her best friend. There are just some lines you don’t cross.”

  “Oh bullshit.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Did you fart? I said: bull…shit.”

  “Caleb—”

  “I bet you could call Delia up right now and ask her if she has a problem and she’d say no.” He grins, and it’s almost sinister. “As a matter of fact, I’ll do it.”

  He reaches into his back pocket and I lunge at him like a lunatic, swatting at the phone in his hand.

  “No! Caleb! Stop it right now!”

  He snakes an arm around my waist and brings me in close to him. “Tell me then, Zoe. Tell me the real reason you don’t want to do this.”

  My heart begins to work overtime with the way he’s watching me. It’s like he can see right through me, down to the very thread that holds me together.

  I both love and hate how it makes me feel.

  “I’m scared, Caleb. I don’t want to like you. I don’t want to do that Delia…but I can’t help the attraction I feel toward you. You’re like this magnetic field that’s pulling me in. I don’t know you well enough to decide if I want inside or if I want off the field.”

  He releases me and I take a step back, noticing when he slips his phone back into his pocket.

  “How about this: let’s be friends, no strings attached. If we kiss, we kiss. If something more comes of this, then it does, but I don’t see why we should tiptoe around whatever this is for the sake of what-ifs.”

  “I…”

  Can I do that? Can I just go with the flow on this? I’m usually so laid back about relationships and guys, but something with Caleb is different—and it goes beyond him and Delia.

  I do want to get to know him better—as friends, as whatever.

  “I can do that.”

  “We can do that.”

  “Just, like, don’t make it weird.”

  He lets out a choked laugh. “Me? I’m gonna make it weird? Riiiight.”

  “Yep. You.” I pick up my discarded glove, playing it cool, because we both know it would be me that made it weird before he did. “Now help me load this crap into my car. You’re buying me lunch.”

  “Okay, seriously, you are a stupid amazing cook.”

  Caleb lifts a shoulder, like the meal he just whipped up was no big deal. “I know.”

  “And you learned all that how exactly?”

  “We had about three working channels, one being this old cooking station. That’s where I learned a good portion of it. The rest was through trial and error.”

  “Trial and error? For that?”

  “It’s just a healthy spin on chicken Parmesan. It’s not that hard to make.”

  I shake my head. “I’d have failed at the first step.”

  “Flattening chicken? You can’t really mess that up…”

  “Oh, trust me, I’d have found a way. And you learned all this in the…what did you say? The trailer park?”

  He nods. “Yep. Born and raised.”

  Caleb goes to grab our empty plates, an attempt to change the subject—which I allow—but I swat his hand away.

  “Nuh uh. I’ll do that. You cooked, I’ll clean.”

  “Fair enough.”

  I grab our plates and make my way to the sink, taking the time to rinse them clean before dropping them in the dishwasher. Piling the leftovers into a bowl, I slide it into the fridge. It’s amazing that just a few weeks ago you would open it and only find milk, butter, eggs, and a few jars of salsa. Now it’s stocked full of leftovers and all kinds of fresh groceries.

  Grabbing my apron, I tie it around my waist and set about pulling out the ingredients to make brownies. Hey, he makes dinners, I make dessert—those are the rules.

  I break an egg over a bowl and drop it in then turn to dump the shell in the trash, surprised to find a smiling Caleb still sitting at the counter.

  “What?”

  His grin grows, and he gives his head a shake. “Nothing. It’s just cute to watch you flitter your way around the kitchen. I haven’t had the chance to watch you bake yet. I’m usually only around to reap the rewards of your efforts, not watch the magic happen.”

  “What’s so cute about it?”

  “Everything. Your concentration, the way your tongue snakes out when you have to use the whisk…” He stalks my way and reaches out, brushing his finger against my cheek. “The speck of flour you have right here.”

  “That was so cliché.”

  “But you have to admit, it made your knees weak.”

  “Another cliché. You done yet?”

  “Oh, baby, not even close.”

  I burst into laughter as Caleb swoops me into his arms, placing a kiss against my temple, shaking his head at me.

  “You’re something else, Caleb.”

  “You like it.”

  “You can’t prove that.”

  His lips lift, and I know exactly what’s running through his mind. “Oh, I can.”

  “You’re going to kiss me again, aren’t you?”

  He responds by dipping his head and capturing my lips with his. His thumb sweeps across my cheek, his other hand gripping my waist and holding me close to him as his mouth moves over mine. His touch is gentle, sweet even.

  We stand there wrapped together for who knows how long with our lips fused together.

  It feels so good, so natural. It’s only been hours since we agreed to be friends and see where this goes, but I can already feel the shift, and it worries me how good it feels.

  “I need to finish making these brownies,” I whisper when I pull my mouth from his.

  “Yeah you
do—I’m craving something sweet.”

  He winks; I nearly die laughing.

  Caleb shakes his head and steps away from me. “I’ll be on the couch while you calm down in here.”

  I wave him off and finish mixing the brownies, adding in a few chocolate chips for an extra rich batch.

  I set the timer and slide dessert into the oven before slipping off my apron. I grab two beers from the fridge and make my way into the living room.

  “Here.” I hand Caleb one. “We have about twenty-five minutes.”

  “You want to watch something?”

  “How about watch that dick disappear into this ass?”

  He spits out the drink of beer he just took, his face red, laughter spilling out of him. “Holy fuck! Did you just ask me to do anal with you?”

  I can’t help but laugh along with him. “No, I just can’t control the things that come out of my mouth sometimes.”

  “Because, I mean, I’m game if you are.” He waggles his brows up and down.

  “Keep dreaming, Caleb. Keep fucking dreaming.”

  “You’re going to be so fun to live with.” He grabs the remote from the table, still laughing. “You a fan of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia?”

  “Of what?”

  “Just wait. You’ll see.”

  We’re not even five minutes into the first episode and my mouth has already dropped at least three times. I can see Caleb watching me out of the side of his eye.

  “Right?”

  “They’re such train wrecks, but I can’t look away.”

  “Just wait, it gets worse.”

  “Worse? That’s possible?”

  He chuckles. “Worse.”

  “Wow.”

  We finish out the episode and start the second before the timer goes off.

  “Be right back,” I tell him. “Pause it. I don’t want to miss one second.”

  I race into the kitchen and use a toothpick to check the brownies. When it comes out clean, I remove them and set the pan on a rack to cool while we watch another episode or two.

  “Okay, ready,” I say, plopping back down on the couch.

  When Caleb doesn’t answer, I glance over at him.

  He’s asleep.

  I went into the kitchen for two minutes and he fell asleep.

  Poor guy.

  Standing, I grab my beer bottle and his, dumping them both in the recycling bin before wrapping tin foil around the brownies. I’ll have to take care of them in the morning.

  “Mittens,” I call quietly. “Bed time.”

  The small cat darts out from his favorite spot under the bar and races toward my bedroom. Guess you can say we’ve done this a few times.

  I lean over the back of the couch and give Caleb a few shakes. “Hey, wakie wakie. Let’s go to bed.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Bed. Let’s go.”

  “Like…together?”

  “Together. You’re sleeping with me tonight.”

  He gives me a crooked grin. “I don’t think I’m up for it tonight, babe.”

  I laugh and give him another shake. “I meant sleep sleep. You’re not sleeping on the floor, and no offense, but you’re too big for the couch to be comfortable.”

  “My ass isn’t that big.”

  I slap at said ass. “It’s getting there.”

  He flips around quickly. “Did you just slap my ass?”

  “Maybe. Did you like it?”

  A shrug. “Maybe.”

  I give him a small laugh. “Come on. Bed.”

  We amble down the hallway. “I’m, uh, gonna go grab my stuff. You sure this is okay?”

  “Yep. Now scoot. I’m getting sleepy.”

  Caleb heads to grab his pillow and blanket while I rush to clean up my painting supplies and try to make some sense of my messy bed.

  I refuse to overthink this. I refuse to make this weird.

  Caleb doesn’t have a bed. He has to sleep in mine.

  Right?

  I climb into ‘my side’, which feels so weird because the whole bed has always been my side, and then I wait for Caleb to make his move.

  Unlike me, he doesn’t hesitate. He dives right into the warmth, snuggling close to me.

  “Oh my god,” he moans, eyes closed, body wrapped tight in his blanket. “This is pure heaven.”

  “The bed or sleeping next to me?”

  He smirks. “Maybe a little of both.”

  “Maybe?”

  “Maybe a lot.”

  I laugh and reach over to turn off my bedside lamp before scooting down and making myself comfortable.

  “Thank you, Zoe.”

  “For the bed?”

  “For the bed, for the kisses, for the brownies I’ll be eating for breakfast.”

  I lean over and place a kiss on his forehead. “Good night, Caleb.”

  “Good night.”

  Eleven

  I hate myself.

  I’ve been lying in bed for the past ten minutes trying to work up the courage to not text Caleb, because for some ungodly reason, I miss him.

  Already.

  And I’ve only been awake for thirty minutes.

  I groan and throw my phone back to the end of the bed, refusing to give in.

  I want to feel bad for liking him, for wanting to spend time with him, but it’s so hard when he makes me feel the way he does. When he kisses me, my whole world is full of color. He makes me feel the way a blank canvas does: excited and nervous and ready for something new.

  Me: You ghosted again this morning. Is this going to be our thing now?

  Caleb: It’s Sunday, remember? I have plans on Sundays.

  Me: Ah, yes. Your mysterious standing Sunday plans.

  Caleb: It’s not THAT mysterious. I go “home” on Sundays, make sure shit’s straight.

  Me: And home is in quotes because…

  Caleb: Because it doesn’t feel like home.

  Caleb: Unlike your bed. ;-)

  Me: You’re trying to distract me with sexy talk.

  Me: I’ll allow it. Please continue.

  Me: HOLD THE FUCKING PHONE

  Caleb: *winces* You saw, huh?

  Me: Oh, I fucking saw. ALL BUT TWO?

  Caleb: They were REALLY good, so it’s all your fault for being such an amazing, beautiful, generous, kind, sexy cook.

  Me: What are you buttering me up for?

  Me: Did you do something else?

  Caleb: No. *bats lashes* I would never.

  Me: I swear, if I walk to the fridge and I’m out of chocolate milk, a thunderous doom will rain down upon you.

  Caleb: I’m so scared.

  Me: As you should be! I’m scary as fuck without my chocolate milk.

  Caleb: Glad I’m not there then.

  Me: CALEB!

  Me: UGH. Worst. Roommate. Ever.

  Me: Wait, how’d you get “home”? Did you bus it?

  Caleb: I did. It’s only about two hours by bus. No biggie.

  Me: I could have given you a ride.

  Caleb: I’m used to it. I rode the bus even when I was able to ride my bike.

  Me: But…why?

  Caleb: It’s just easier, safer. The ride out here can get a bit hairy.

  Me: Fair enough.

  Me: When will you be home? I’m already bored and you’re missing Breakfast & Beats. I have some Tupac cranking right this moment.

  Caleb: Now that I’m actually upset about.

  Caleb: I should be home tonight, probably not until after midnight though. I take the last bus out whenever possible.

  Me: Okay. Fine. I’ll just be here.

  Me: By myself.

  Me: You know. Alone. By myself.

  Caleb: I see someone’s a bit of a drama bomb…

  Caleb: Besides, Mittens is there. Snuggle with him.

  Caleb: Also, it is ridiculous how you’ve pretty much stolen him from me. Don’t think I didn’t notice him sleeping at the end of your side last night. Total bullshit.

  Me: Wha
t? I can’t help it that I’m cuter than you and he loves me more.

  Caleb: He loves you more? Maybe. Cuter? Don’t push it.

  Me: GASP!

  Me: I’m WAY cute.

  Caleb: You’re sexy. That’s a whole different level of cute.

  Caleb: So…I have news.

  Me: You’ve won the lottery and you’re giving me one million dollars?

  Caleb: Close.

  Caleb: I have to extend my stay.

  Me: That’s not even kind of close.

  Me: What’s going on?

  Caleb: Just some things I need to deal with. I should be home Tuesday night after study group.

  Me: Tuesday?! Ughhhhhhh.

  Caleb: I know, I know. Trust me, if I didn’t HAVE to be here, I wouldn’t. I hate this place.

  Me: That bad?

  Caleb: That FUCKING bad.

  Me: Oh wow, you threw a cuss word in there. Okay, I believe you now.

  Me: Don’t worry, I’ll take care of Mittens. He’s going to fall even more in love with me though. Fair warning.

  Caleb: Sigh. I figured as much. I might as well just sign over his adoption papers now.

  Me: Nah. We can share him. I’m nice like that.

  Me: I did a thing…

  Me: DOWNLOAD ATTACHMENT

  Caleb: You…you…

  Caleb: YOU PUT A PINK AND PURPLE UNICORN SWEATER ON MY KITTEN?