Page 127 of I Wanna Text You Up

I point a finger his way. “That doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, youknow.”

He sighs and takes a seat in the chair next to me. “I know. I have a lot to tellyou.”

“Yeah youdo.”

“How about we go home, huh? I’ll tell you everything overbreakfast.”

“Breakfast?”

He pulls his phone from his pocket. “ItistwoAM.”

My stomach growls as I contemplate his offer, and if the smile on his face is any indication, he heard it. I tip my head to the side and twist my lips,thinking.

“Can we have beats with this breakfast idea ofyours?”

“Like you even have toask.”

* * *

Iunlockthe door to the apartment and let usin.

Mittens comes prancing out of the bedroom and jumps straight into Caleb’sarms.

“He’s missed you, youknow.”

He runs his nose through the cat’s fur. “I’ve missed you too,buddy.”

We settle into a flow in the kitchen, me setting up the music and Caleb gathering all the fixings to make biscuits andgravy.

As I’m passing him on my way to the fridge to grab a beer, he snakes an arm around my waist and pulls me close. He places a finger under my chin and brings my eyes to his. Brushing the loose hair off my face, he smiles atme.

“Can I kissyou?”

My knees grow weak at the request, and I answer by crushing my mouth to his for the first time in aweek.

It’s a soft, slow kiss, but it burns in all the right ways as his lips move over mine. He lifts me off the floor and sets me on the counter closest to us, tucking himself perfectly between mylegs.

Our kiss turns more intense, the pressure of his mouth growing against mine, his hands finding their way into my hair and holding my head to his. He kisses me like this is the last kiss we’ll ever share, like he’s afraid to let me go, like he’sscared.

He has nothing to be afraidof.

I trace my hands over his back and around to his front. The moment my fingers meet his warm skin, he wrenches away, tearing his mouth from mine as he pants and gasps forair.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to turn intothat.”

“Caleb, it’s okay.” I pull at his shirt. “I want this. I wantyou.”

“I want you too, but you deserveanswers.”

In my lustful haze, I forgot all about how mad I am athim.

“You’re right. Walkaway.”

“Huh?”

“Walk away. Go sit at the counter or something. I’ll chop thesausage.”

He rears back. “You’re going to do what to mydick?”

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