Page 94 of Holiday Star
“At fourteen, I had my first big breakout movie. After that, it was too much for her. She was bitter about it, but I had to fire her and hire a professional management company. Everything has been strained between us ever since.”
It’s a terrible thing to think about, having to fire your own mother. I’ve had struggles with my mom, but nothing like what Caleb’s been through. “I’m sorry it’s rough between you two.”
“I’m supposed to talk to her about it. That’s part of my...” He pauses, and I fill in the blank, knowing he means rehab for his alcoholism. I want to ask him about it so badly, but I’m trying to be patient and wait until he’s ready. Predictably, he dodges the subject and says “treatment. I’m required to go apologize to all the people I’ve hurt. She’s coming for a visit next week. I’ll do it then.”
He doesn’t sound happy about it.
“What about you?” Caleb asks, startling me. “I saw that you looked upset at the wedding. You should give Uncle Seth a shot. He can be a little shy, but once you get to know him, you’ll see how amazing he is.”
“I’m sure he’s great. My mom wouldn’t have married him otherwise. I just don’t think we have much in common.”
A frisbee flies over our head, chased by a barking dog. The dog leaps up high. Midair, it snatches the toy in its jaws and lands gracefully, tail wagging.
“Can you imagine Pip trying to catch a frisbee like that?” I ask Caleb. We both laugh at the thought of tiny Pip chasing a frisbee bigger than she is.
“What happened with your art therapy proposal?” Caleb yawns sleepily, tucking his hand under his head and snuggling down into the blanket as if he’d like to take a nap.
The combination of a food coma and a day in the sun has sapped my energy as well. Eyelids heavy, I blink. “Dr. Patel said the committee was interested but had questions for me. They meet again in a few weeks, and I’m supposed to be there.” His yawn was contagious, passing over to me.
“You’ll do great at that, answering their questions.” His body slackens, muscles relaxing, hands unfurling.
It feels like a lazy Sunday where you never really wake up. Where you live in a daydream, a place where things slow and everything is colored in pastels.
The sun retreats behind a cloud. A breeze whips out of nowhere, ruffling Caleb’s hair, blowing a stray piece across his forehead. Before I can stop myself, I brush that soft strand out of the way. My fingers graze his skin and freeze, buzzing from that simple contact.
He’s so handsome with his skin darkened by a tan, sun kissed from being outside all day. Without even knowing it, I’ve inched closer, my hand moving from his hair to skim along his cheek, testing the sharp angle of his cheekbone.
A minute ago, I didn’t want him to touch me, but nowIwant to touch him. I want to curl into his warmth, like a cat into a sunbeam.
What is wrong with me that I can’t resist this man? Am I no better than those girls giggling over him earlier? I don’t care. This ismydesire driving me.
I’m in charge now.
My fingers continue their journey downward. I outline the full cupid’s bow of his mouth, and Caleb’s eyes slide closed with pleasure. He sighs the slightest moan, so quiet I read it from the motion of his parted lips rather than hear it with my ears. I suck in a shuddering breath, imagining my fingers replaced with my kiss. Remembering how he tastes, spicy and yet somehow sweet.
The alarm on my phone beeps, waking me like a bucket of ice dumped over my head. My breathing choppy, I snatch my hand away and sit up. “I’ve got to go. My next shift starts in an hour.” There’s an odd ache in my chest. The hollow of unfulfilled longing.
Caleb lays still, staring at me with brooding hooded eyes. “You know, Gwen,” he says darkly. “I fucked up when I left you. It’s a mistake I won’t make again. I’m willing to wait for now, but I have to warn you, eventually I’ll grow impatient and then I’ll simply claim what’s mine.”
My body processes his words before my brain does, and it must like what it hears because my nipples pinch as heat gathers deep in my core. My mouth slackens, taken aback by the possessive glint in his eyes.
I mean, damn. That was kind of hot.
My brain catches up, and I close my mouth. I attempt to appear offended, narrowing my eyes to glare, but the effort is half-hearted. Caleb ignores me and stands up. He calmly places our empty containers into the picnic basket. I roll up the blanket and pass it to him. The breeze is cooling as we leave the park and walk back to my apartment.
When we reach my door, I stand there awkwardly, not sure how to end the evening. “Well, thanks for the date.” I dig into my pocket, fishing around for my key. “I had a good time.”
“When are we going out again?” he asks with a squint.
I arch an eyebrow. “My, that’s rather presumptive of you, isn’t it? Assuming I’ll go on another date with you?”
He stares at me, deadpan. The silence lengthens, and he doesn’t even blink.
Darn it, he’s way better at this game than I am. My shoulders slump with defeat. “My next day off isn’t for a week and a half.”
The pleased guttural rumble in the back of his throat makes me light-headed. There’s extra weight when he says, “That’s okay. I’ll wait for you.”
He starts to walk away, then hesitates and turns back to face me. “You know that picture I saw this morning with all those words on it?”
