Page 38 of Holiday Star
Caleb holds me close, his hands on the small of my back. My shirt has ridden up and when his fingers skate across my bare skin a tremor runs through his body.
His voice rasps low. “Right now, I’m happy I’m alive, too.”
We pull apart, and I’m looking up at him and he’s looking down at me with an intensity that sets my nerves buzzing. The noise of the bar fades to nothing. He’s so close I can see the individual hairs in his famous eyebrows. I can see the tiny mark in his hairline, the still healing scar from where I hit him. I can see the depths in his beautiful eyes, which drop to linger on my lips. Then the most incredible thing happens.
He kisses me.
Caleb Freaking Lawson kissesme,Gwen Totally Ordinary Wright.
In all the history of kisses, this is the best one. I just know it. It’s soft at first, a gentle brush of his lips and his tongue. He tastes like lime, like a beach with white sand and drinks with tiny umbrellas.
But then it deepens into something raw and hungry, lava spilling out of a volcano, consuming everything in its path. His mouth moves over mine, devouring.
My pulse pounds in my ears as we kiss, with a corresponding throb between my legs. I’m clinging to him, my hands gripping his shirt. There’s no space left between our bodies, yet I want him closer. White flashes of light penetrate through my eyelids, blinding me, leaving bright afterimages as my lashes flutter open.
We’re both panting when we break apart. It’s like I got smacked over the head by a two-by-four. Like little cartoon character birds should be flying in a circle above me tweeting. Given the dazed expression on Caleb’s face, I’m hoping he feels the same.
22
Caleb hums along with Christmas music on the car radio, singing softly under his breath. His voice is beautiful, even in a whisper.
When I had explained to Jenny that I was catching a ride back with Caleb, she had jumped up and down. “He actually came here? He showed up?” She gave me her best “I told you so” look. She’s gonna freak out tomorrow when I tell her about the kiss.
Now in the car, he holds my hand, with his other hand loose on the steering wheel. I give him a little squeeze, reveling in the sensation of his skin against mine. It’s one thing to see Caleb on the big screen or on a magazine cover, but something totally different to touch him, to feel the shift and pull of tendons and muscles as he squeezes me back.
“You said when your car was crashing you thought of the things you hadn’t accomplished yet. Was singing one of them? Because you really are talented, and I personally think it’s a shame not to share that with the world.”
His thumb has been stroking the back of my hand. It stills with my question. I have to strain to hear his answer. “Music was the first thing that came to my mind. I’ve always wanted to try.”
“Why don’t you?”
He turns down the volume of the radio, so we won’t have to shout. “I told you before. I’m scared.”
“I was afraid to walk back into that bar tonight, but you didn’t let me run away. You made me face all that pain. It was hard, but I’m glad I did it. I wouldn’t have gone in there without you holding my hand, though. Maybe I can do that for you. I’ll hold your hand if you want to try singing. You could start out small, just friends and family, then work your way up to bigger and bigger venues.”
Two lines appear between his brows. “You’d do that? Be there for me? Be patient while I worked it out?”
“Of course.”
He pulls his hand away, leaving my palm cold and bereft without his heat. “Why would you do that?” Full mouth turned down. He runs his fingers through his hair, tugging on the ends.
I don’t understand his reaction. “Why would I not?” It hurts, how he’s looking at me, and I have to fight past the roaring in my head to think it through from his perspective.
Caleb parks the car on the sidewalk in front of my house and faces me, still frowning.
After a tense silence when we stare at each other, it comes to me. I realize Caleb is searching for my angle. What I want from him in return for my kindness. Most of Caleb’s life is transactional. His agent talks to him to make a commission. Reporters flatter him to get a sound bite. Girls date him to end up on a magazine cover.
But I’m not like that. I don’t want anything, except to see him happy. I reach over the center console and retake his hand in mine.
“It’s whatever you’re comfortable with, Caleb. I’m just telling you my thoughts, but I’ll support you either way. As for the reason I’d do that…”Tick tock, Gwen.Time’s running out.I take in a deep breath and blow it back out. “I would do it because I like you. Like I really like you.”
Squinting my eyes closed, I brace for the inevitable rejection. I’m so tense that when his hand lightly brushes my cheek, I flinch, and my eyes fly open. Caleb has moved toward me, his frostiness melted. His eyes are tender and eager as they search my face, like he’s trying to peer into my soul.
His thumb strokes along my jaw and then down to brush my lips, sending a tingle through my body and straight to my core. Caleb unbuckles his seat belt and scoots closer, half sitting on the center console in a position that can’t be comfortable.
With a hand on each of my cheeks, he holds me still and crushes his mouth against mine in a fiery kiss. Our tongues meet, stroking against each other greedily. With each kiss, we draw closer, until the only thing stopping me from climbing into his lap is my stupid seat belt that I’m too lust drunk to unbuckle.
Hands slipping back into my hair, he continues to kiss me, each touch divine, awakening a million butterflies of desire who beat their wings in my chest and low in my belly. My lips part, and a breathy little sigh escapes me.
