Page 19 of Holiday Star
Have you seen him naked yet?Jenny texts.
Stop objectifying him,I write back and then cringe, realizing I sound like a crotchety old grandmother.
I can’t tell her about this morning, when he had stretched like a cat in the sunshine and how his shirt had ridden up revealing the most sculpted abdominals I’ve ever seen, a perfect six pack, which is saying something because in the hospital I see a lot of naked people. Sure, most of them are over seventy, but we get the occasional young, hot guy, too. In all my years of working in medicine, I’ve never seen a body as gorgeous as Caleb’s.
Humiliatingly, he had caught me looking, gawking at him the same way a horny teenager would.
“Like what you see?” He smirked, but his eyes told a different story than his lips. They were jaded, world-weary, as if this was a role he was tired of playing.
I ripped my gaze up to clash with his, my brows slashing together. “Not so much,” I said disdainfully. With a pointed look at his bare skin, I told him, “You can put that away. Nobody wants to see it.”
His laughter had been scornful. “Oh, really?” He hiked his shirt up higher, taunting me. “Well, hundreds of thousands of Christmas calendars of me shirtless beg to differ.”
I pinned him with a stare. “You seem to forget that we’re living together. If you really want to impress me, try remembering to put the toilet seat down and wipe your toothpaste off the sink.”
It was beyond satisfying when his eyes flew wide with shock and he dropped his shirt down. Head high, I had spun on my heel and marched out of the room.
Ha! Take that, Caleb not so freaking Lawson.
Jenny texts me again.You must have some interesting gossip for me. Pretty please!I can practically hear her cajoling tone written all over the words. This is why she’s a journalist. She loves knowing other people’s business.
I pause, trying to come up with something juicy to give her.
I don’t think he has the best relationship with his mom. I overheard them talking on the phone yesterday and it sounded strained,I text back.
My mind goes to that phone conversation. Caleb didn’t hide it from me, keeping his phone on speaker while I sat, working on my research paper at the kitchen table.
You know his mom was his manager, right? From the time he was a little kid until he was a teenager,Jenny writes.
Ah, that makes sense, given how she had interrogated him. Even though he has professional managers now, on that phone call Marjorie had acted like it was still her job. She had grilled him about upcoming roles, contract negotiations, and collaboration opportunities.
Caleb answered her questions the way an angsty teenager would, with monosyllabic responses. Judging from what she said, Marjorie doesn’t know about the…ahem...changes he’s recently made to his career. I’m sure as hell not going to be the one to tell her. I’d like to be in New York before that particular shitstorm hits.
Caleb had cut the phone call short, saying he had stuff to do, which was a lie because he went back to silently reading and munching on a gingerbread cookie that he had baked earlier.
“She doesn’t know where you are? Your mom?” I asked him, wanting to confirm it, as I bit into my own cookie. It was delicious, soft and sweet.
“No, and I’d like to keep it that way.” He gave me a slit-eyed stare as if I’d tattle on him.
“What about Seth? Did you tell him you’re here?”
Caleb slumped deeper into the couch, his gaze darting left and right. “No, and I feel awful about it. Uncle Seth is one of the few people I trust. He’s always stood up for me, but…” He hesitated. “I’m worried that if he knows, my mom will find out. She’s good at getting everyone to spill their secrets, especially Seth. She can be very…persistent.”
It hung there between us. If he’s lying, then I need to hide the truth, too. This doesn’t work otherwise. I already lied by omission the first day he was here, when I talked to Mom and didn’t mention him, but would I continue to carry his secret? Should I?
Caleb watched me with wide, owlish eyes, waiting to see what I would decide.
“I won’t say anything. To my mom or to Seth.” I’m not sure why I agreed. I’m not usually a liar, especially to my family. But as much as he annoys me, there’s something fragile about Caleb, something that makes me want to protect him.
His relief was palpable.
Other than that phone call, he’s been pretty boring,I tell Jenny.
It’s the truth. Besides that one rather heavy conversation, he isn’t very communicative. He does small talk occasionally, but mostly he listens to music with his earbuds in or he reads. Already, he’s made it through the first two Twilight books. He also scribbles in a black and white composition notebook that he stores underneath the couch.
“What’s in there? What are you writing?” I’ve asked a couple of times, pointing at the notebook.
Whenever I bring it up, he gets a shifty, almost secretive expression. “Nothing.”
