Crazy, Stupid Sex (11 page)

“Yes, baby,” he said. “Just like that. Yes, Evie.”

She rocked back and forth, moved faster, harder, her eyes on his face as he gave up control completely, his head falling back, his mouth open, his brows locked together. And it pushed her over.

She didn’t bother to hold back the raw sound of pleasure that climbed her throat and tore its way out of her mouth. She shuddered out her climax, calling out his name, digging her nails into the skin on his chest as she was consumed with her release.

Then when it was over she lay down over his chest, her breathing fractured, her whole world fractured.

“Stay,” he said, his arms coming around her waist, his palms warm and heavy on her back.

“Okay.”

Chapter Nine

Caleb woke up with a woman in his arms. That never happened. He never permitted himself that luxury. The intimacy of letting someone sleep with him. After all, they could smother you with a pillow while you slept, so it came back to trust.

He opened his eyes and looked down at the bright streak of red hair that slashed across his chest like a wound. A strange analogy maybe, but not inappropriate, since everything hurt. Since his chest hurt deep inside like she really had cut him open.

He moved away from her, untangled himself from her hold slowly, then sliding to the edge of the bed, sitting there with his feet on the floor and his face in his hands.

He’d told her about Jill. He never talked about Jill.

But it had been her birthday, and that was always the worst day. Because he had so many memories of her birthdays. They’d always spent them together. As a family.

Now, he didn’t even call his parents that day. A day when everyone had gotten together, celebrated and eaten cake, had turned into a day where they never even spoke.

Jill was the brighter of the two of them, the most ambitious. Poised to take over the family business. She’d lived for that stuff. Been so involved in everything. Their dad’s favorite, for obvious reasons, and it might have bothered him if she hadn’t been his favorite, too.

And it just seemed wrong, and cruel, that it had been Jill hit by another driver while cruising down the road they took between the office and home. That she’d been the one. It could have been the person in front of her. The person behind her.

It could have been him. He was in the passenger seat. And he’d been fine. He’d walked away. He’d walked away from an accident that had killed her instantly. His side of the car perfectly preserved, hers completely gone.

And he’d seen it. Seen that she wasn’t there at all. He’d been sitting there, fine, unhurt, and she was just staring straight ahead, unseeing, unmoving.

Why was it her? Why, on such a perfect, sunny day, with nothing remotely sinister flashing up as a warning? Why was she the one in the path of a drunk guy who was wasted at six in the evening? Why was it her side of the car? Life didn’t make sense.

Why was Jill gone when the world needed her? She was the sort of person who would have made an impact. Who had the resources and the drive. And he was…

He was the one who was still here. And he couldn’t figure it out. Not then, not ten years on.

Even so, he wasn’t sure why he’d spilled his guts to Evie, then clung to her like a needy child.

He’d begged her to stay, how sad was that?

He stood up and rubbed his hands over his face, and back over his hair.

“Morning, buttercup.” He turned and saw Evie, staring up at him, looking rumpled and sleepy and sexy. So sexy he wanted to climb back into her head, back into bed, back into her arms, and never get up again. The world sucked; he would rather spend the rest of his life in this bedroom with Evie. Spanking her and kissing her and being inside her.

The realization hit him with the force of a wrecking ball to the chest. He needed her. He’d known it was starting, but he hadn’t done what he should have right when he’d realized it. He couldn’t need her, because he had nothing to give back to her. He couldn’t stay with her because…

She deserved more than he was. More than a playboy who did nothing but sit on his ass and spend his father’s money.

You could be more.

Everything in him rebelled at the thought. He could do what? Step into the place Jill was supposed to occupy? The thought made him feel like he was on the verge of a panic attack. Jill, cool, composed, brilliant Jill’s place couldn’t be filled that easily.

And it certainly couldn’t be filled by him.

You’re assuming Dad would even want you to try. You’re assuming Evie would want you.

Big assumptions.

Probably incorrect assumptions. And just as well.

“Morning,” he said, his voice as broken and graveled as he felt inside.

She sat up, not bothering to pull the blankets up over her pale breasts, the morning light casting a golden glow over her bare body. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you okay?” she asked, frowning.

He didn’t like that he was so transparent to her. BS was his game. He was better at hiding his feelings than this. He’d gone out the night of the accident, straight from the hospital, and picked up a woman, laughed, smiled, screwed her senseless. Then he’d given her a kiss, walked out of her apartment, got into his car, laid in the backseat and cried for two hours. Alone. Not in front of anyone. Not ever.

He’d done much the same most nights since. Minus the crying. He didn’t do that every night. But sometimes.

So why did it feel hard now? Why did it feel like he couldn’t hide this from her? Because she’d been able to tell something was wrong the moment she’d arrived yesterday. And he hadn’t been able to hold it in. He hadn’t been able to protect himself.

Just like now.

“I’m fine,” he said. “But I think you’d better get up and get ready to leave, I have some things I need to do.”

She frowned. “It’s Sunday and you don’t do anything.”

“Well, I have plans today.”

“What plans?”

“Maybe take a bloody hint, Evie. I’m not busy. I want you to go home.”

She jerked back like he’d slapped her across the face, and he felt like he had. He felt like the absolute worthless bastard he knew he was. But the alternative was baring his soul and he was damn sure not going to do that.

“What the hell is your problem, Caleb?” she asked, sliding out of bed, naked, beautiful and making his legs weak.

“Look, this is why I don’t have women spend the night. I want sex when I want sex, then I want to get on with my day.”

“Oh don’t hand me your bullshit and expect me to say
thanks.
That’s not what we have.”

“And you know that?” he asked, something dark and powerful driving him now. Something that tasted a lot like fear. “You know that because you’ve been with one other guy and had a long-term relationship? Wake up, baby, this is a game for grown-ups. And I thought you knew the rules.”

“What? GTFO when you say and not a moment sooner? Hold you and make sure you aren’t alone when you beg me to, but then don’t get all needy?”

“Don’t bring that up. Don’t use it like that.”

“Why? Because you get to conveniently ignore that it happened and then act like I’m overstepping? No. No no no.” She started collecting her clothes. “I don’t know what your problem is.”

“This isn’t what I do,” he said, his heart raging. “I don’t do fights and feelings and responsibility to another person.”

“Too bad. I
have
feelings. I have feelings for you and I’m all up in your bedroom, so they’re your problem.”

“I didn’t sign on for this.”

“You did! You walked into my office so confident you were going to have another night with me. You took a job so you could be with me. You signed on. So don’t give me your shit now that you’re all scared.”

Her breasts were rising and falling with her breath, her eyes bright and fierce. He’d never seen a more beautiful, terrifying thing in his life. She was going to ask things of him. Big things. He could feel it. And he knew he would let her down. Shit, he hated that he would let her down.

“Sure, that’s it,” he said, using every bit of nerve he had to turn and face her, stark naked, his mask firmly in place. He knew this mask. His Caleb mask. “It’s that I’m scared, baby, not that I’m just not that into you.”

“Fuck off,” she said, tugging her clothes on, a tear spilling down her cheek.

Dammit. This was that open emotion of hers. Didn’t she know what she was giving away? Exposed like this. Why was she doing it? Why could she do it?

Why the hell was he too afraid to do it?

“Nah, I think I’m done with the fucking, why don’t you get out.”

He watched her expression change, the color leeching from her face, like the blood had drained from her body. The funny thing was, he felt it in his chest, right where her hair had been, a slash of red over his heart. He felt it all bleed from him, as he saw it injuring her.

And he hated himself. But that was nothing new.

“Fine. Great. I’m out. Enjoy the tuna, asshole, it’s still sitting in the basket in the living room. And I bet the ice pack didn’t hold all night. Oh, and I finished the app, so I’ll just send it all on to
Flirt
and you can never darken my door again. If you left any crap at your cubicle it will be on the street waiting for you, or stolen and sold on Craigslist by the time you get there. It doesn’t really matter to me.” She held up both hands, middle fingers high, then turned and started to walk away, then stopped. “You know what’s stupid, Caleb? I just figured it out.”

“What?” he asked, feeling like his body was slowly turning to stone, his head, his face, too heavy for his neck.

“The feelings. I knew I had feelings for you, but I wasn’t sure what they were. But now…with all these feelings you’ve just given me with your complete dismissal of me, I know. I love you. I hope I don’t for much longer.” She stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her. And he listened until he heard the front door slam behind her.

And he just stood, rigid, heavy. A statue. He wanted to crumble. To give in to the unbearable pressure that was threatening to break him apart. But he couldn’t. He just felt like his heart had turned into a hard lump of granite that was going to crack off the veins holding it in place and plummet through his chest cavity, blowing out all his other organs on the way down.

Which would be fine, really. Because it might mean a swifter death.

Which would just be pointless, because it wouldn’t bring Jill back. It wouldn’t fix anything. But then, him being here hardly did.

He didn’t know why he was thinking that way. But he wasn’t really sure why anything at the moment.

He’d looked it all up once. The thoughts he had. The desire to change places with his dead sister. Survivor’s guilt, they called it. Which was stupid because he hadn’t survived anything. He was just breathing still.

He’d gone from worthless asshole to greater worthless asshole because it had seemed like the thing to do. Because…because he didn’t know why.

Because it had seemed like the thing to do. Because he hadn’t known what else to do. If he could do anything else.

He did know one thing, though.

Evie was gone, and he didn’t want her to be. But he didn’t think he had the right to ask her to come back, either.

Chapter Ten

Heartbreak was the worst. It was worse than a cord wrapped around the wheel on your computer chair. Worse than a hangnail. Worse than when a fast food place put half a tub of mayonnaise on your hamburger.

This was what had been missing when Jason cheated on her. What had been missing when she’d ditched the man she’d shared her life with for ten years.

This was, apparently, love. Love blew chunks.

But at least she’d been right this time. At least she’d gone the whole hog. What did they say? It is better to have loved and lost than to be eaten by a velociraptor. Okay, maybe they didn’t say that, but being eaten by a velociraptor was about the only thing that sounded worse than what she was going through now.

Either way, at least she knew this was the real deal. Cold comfort when you were lying facedown on your desk on a Monday afternoon feeling like you were going to die of heart failure.

There was a soft knock on her door and Raj and Cassie appeared. “Evie…we brought you a burrito.”

“Thanks,” she said, “but I’m not hungry.”

“But it’s better than just a burrito,” Raj said. “It’s a unicorn.”

Cassie held it out and smiled hugely. It was a large burrito on a tray, with a face made of olives and a jalapeño horn. “Because we finished ‘Unicorn Strike’ and it’s going to be a hit! And because you’re down. So I thought you needed a smiling burrito.”

“It’s…unique,” she said. “You can put it on my desk.”

“You okay?” Raj asked. “You seemed…”

“Sad?” she asked.

“Like you might cut one of our heads off, put it on a pike and roast it over an open flame.” Cassie said.

Evie frowned. “Have I been that horrible?”

“Pretty vile,” Raj said.

“Oh. Well. I’m sorry.”

Cassie shrugged. “We’re just worried. You weren’t like this when you and Jason the Horrible broke up. We were afraid something happened with the
Flirt
app. I mean, with that corporate stooge hanging out…”

“Caleb,” she said. “His name was Caleb.”

Cassie frowned. “Yeah, Caleb. He was really…” She got a dreamy look on her face.

“Yeah,” Evie said, scowling. “And no, everything’s fine with the app.”

“Well…good, then…I guess.”

“Happy unicorn eating,” Raj said, and he and Cassie scurried out of the room.

She didn’t mean to be a jerk. She picked up the fork that was on the tray and stabbed the unicorn in the back. Or maybe she did and she didn’t care.

She was fine without love. Or, she had been. Then Caleb had torn down a partition in herself she hadn’t even known she’d put up. And she’d suddenly had access to all this stuff. Desire, and bravery and this deep, deep emotion she hadn’t realized she was capable of.

What a bastard.

So now that she had access to all that stuff, all the good and bad things that went with it. That brave new Evie who wanted the whole world and felt like it was okay to demand it…well, now she just had to decide what she was going to do with it.