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Pulling on my jeans and T-shirt, I walked into the front room, hoping the universe would give me a sign. If there was a direction I was supposed to move, I needed to know now.
I entered the kitchen to see a shirtless and sweaty Cal bending over and rifling through the fridge.
Good God, the man was perfect. He stood, all that tan skin and those bulging muscles lightly misted with sheen from working out. At least, that was my guess. Since he wore a pair of low slung shorts and nothing else. Either way, I wasn’t complaining.
“Emerged from the lair, huh?” he asked, turning to face me with a carton of orange juice in his hand.
“Lair? It’s your room. I’m not the one who made it look like a cave.”
He untwisted the carton top. “Cave is Jack’s sense of design. Not mine.”
I couldn’t argue that. Cal’s room reminded me of his house. Fresh and rugged and open. But still, he called it a lair. “The shower is made of stones. That’s pretty cave-like if you ask me.”
He took several swallows of the orange juice right from the carton until it was gone. I watched his ripped body flex and move, and I was certain watching him drink cold beverages could become a dangerous hobby. One I was ready to take on.
Nope. Focus. I needed to make a discernable effort and map feelings and moments and…
I blew out a breath.
I was trying to equate something that didn’t have a quantifiable value. When Cal’s blue eyes landed on me, I decided that there had to be a solution. Even if it was walking away.
“Normally, I’d be stoked to have you spending all this time in my room. Especially in my bed and my bathtub.”
A flush pricked its way up my neck. I was crazy if I thought that incident wouldn’t get brought up again. But Cal didn’t push it. Instead, he tilted his head, examining me, and set the now-empty carton on the counter.
“I know a lot is wrong right now, and last night was,” he paused. “Intense, so I won’t ask that obvious question, but is there something extra wrong?”
I small grin tugged my lips like a puppeteer pulling a string. Cal had a way. A way to ask, a way to answer, a way to love. He made everything seem easy. He made me feel like if there were something “extra wrong” he would be there to help me deal with it.
Problem was, the extra wrong involved him. And Jack. And a future I couldn’t face, but was trying to.
Collect data.
“Just thinking about a lot of things,” I said, not wanting to go into my bad dream or the fact that, sure, someone setting fire to my home had a residual after-effect of making me feel scared. Like a target.
“What kind of things?” Cal asked. I caught the briefest twitch of his arm, as if he were going to reach out, but didn’t. A loss flooded. He wasn’t going to reach out for me. Because of my rule. Maybe because of something more than that. I knew how scary it was to reach out to someone.
“Things like the new year. Everything will change.”
“Like?” he pressed.
His tone was quick and determined. Something I’d expect from Jack. But Cal had a serious side. A dark alpha side that always boiled beneath the surface.
I met his eyes. “Everything,” I whispered.
He looked at me for a long moment as that one word hung heavy in the air like a piano on a string, slowly swaying back and forth. We both knew what it meant, but Cal seemed determined to cut the rope.
“Everything is very broad. Specify.”
When I frowned at him, he just reached back and gripped the edge of the counter behind him. His rock hard abs, chest, and the sinful tattoo that lined it on full display and distracting as hell. But I kept my frown.
“Don’t look at me like that. Jack’s not the only one who wants answers.” Determination coated the syllables. “You’re not being a hundred percent honest. Tell me how you see things changing. And when.”
I grappled for the will to steady my heart. “We’re not going to stay in this cabin forever. Our time here will end.”
“Thinking of the end now?” he challenged with a raised brow. I nodded. I couldn’t tell if he was slightly playful or slightly terrified. “You obviously have a plan then?”
“The bank opens after New Year’s Day.”
