Page 33 of Love at a 7-Eleven

"Bailey, you can't be thinking about work right now."

"No, I need to. I'm fine. I feel good. I'd feel better getting back to work. Those videos aren't going to edit themselves."

Chapter 13

Lila Decker

Later that same evening

It was after eleven when I arrived at the address Caleb had given me. I knew what kind of car he had, and saw it in the driveway. I parked on the side of it since I figured he would be leaving before me.

Drake's house was a small but nice Spanish stucco home that was situated in a neighborhood full of similar homes. The landscaping was done in palms and big spiky plants like cactus and succulents. I had been to Southern California before, and I always liked the contrast in the landscape to my home state. I tried to concentrate on the trees and plants so that I wasn't so nervous about seeing Caleb. It was no use. I was winded from carrying my luggage and it didn't help matters that just thinking about him made me feel sort of breath.

And there he was. The door swung open and he jogged down the steps and began crossing to me instantly. "I'm so sorry, I didn't hear you," he said rushing to take my bag from me. He met me at the bottom of the stoop. He hadn't shaved in days, and dark stubble grew in the most perfect patches on his jaw and cheeks. I leaned in like I was planning on hugging him but he pulled back a little.

"I want to hug you so much, but I've had a sore throat for two days. I'm feeling better tonight, but I don’t want you to—"

He stopped talking when I stretched upward, unafraid to approach him. I kissed his cheek. "I've had it too," I said. "I came down with it that same night I was with you at the diner. Yesterday was my first full day of feeling better. You might've gotten it from me. I'm sorry if that's the case." I reached for my suitcase. "Let me carry it if you aren't feeling well."

Caleb pulled it from me with an adorable smile. "Are you kidding, I feel so much better now," he said. "Come on, let's go in." He walked in front of me, carrying the suitcase in one hand as he opened the door. He set it down when we came inside.

Drake had a nice, clean house with a darkish artsy feel. The living room walls were deep grey with beautiful paintings and sculptures from different parts of the world. He was clean and also a collector, and I was instantly comfortable in his space.

"You can set up in the living room," he said. "That couch is amazing. I've taken many naps on that thing."

"Thank you. This is really nice," I said, coming to stand inside and looking around.

It was almost midnight here and even later back home. I had been up for a long time, and traveling all evening. I kicked off my shoes and turned to face him. I was nervous.

"Can I have a hug?" I asked turning to face him.

"Please," he said.

I caught a glimpse of his expression before we embraced, and I could tell he was weary and raw. "I didn't realize you were sick," I said. "I'm sorry if I gave it to you."

He sighed as we stood there motionless, continuing to embrace each other. It was like a dream to be in Caleb's arms. I let out a long sigh. I had only just gotten to know him, but it was enough. I was hungry and thirsty for him, desperate. There was just nothing as good as being by his side.

We held each other for what must've been three full minutes, maybe five.

Finally, I pulled back just far enough to focus on his face. There was a slight smile at the corners of his mouth, but his expression was mostly neutral and thoughtful. His eyes were impossibly dark, and they seemed to be even darker now… heavy, stormy.

"Are you going to fill me in on everything?" I asked, pulling him toward the couch so we could sit down. "All I knew was that Bailey had gotten hurt. Is she okay?"

"She is," he said in a soft tone. "I was at the hospital with her last night, and then I talked to her tonight…" He trailed off pausing and tilting his head at me. "Lila?"

"Yes."

"This is still sort of messy. I tried to tell her about us yesterday, and that was when she…"

He trailed off, and I feared the worst.

"Did she hurt herself?" I asked.

"No, wh—no, not intentionally. Look, the truth is that I am going to take care of it as quickly as I can. But I'm sorry. She's coming over to work in the morning, and I'm going try again to tell her about you. I tried to before, but she doesn't remember it because of the fall."

We were both sitting on the edge of the couch and I stared at him. "What fall?"

"She fainted."

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