Page 32 of Forgotten Dreams
“Caleb brought me the coffee,” I admit. Everleigh’s eyes about come out of her sockets as she looks at me, not sure she should say something, before looking over at Lilah. “I told her,” I inform Everleigh.
“She told you she likes him?” Everleigh asks Lilah, who nods with a huge smile on her face. “She was scared because you two dated.” She holds up her hands to use quotations to say dated.
“I was not scared,” I hiss. “It was just weird.”
“I don’t know why,” Lilah says. “You think if I was serious about him, I wouldn’t have told you?” I think about the question and shrug. “Exactly, that’s like saying you’re right, Lilah, like always.”
“Anyway.” I roll my eyes. “I told her that I kissed him”—I close my eyes—“because the last thing I wanted to do was ruin my friendship with her for it.”
“Wait.” Everleigh holds up her hand. “You kissed him?” She takes a sip of her coffee.
“She did,” Lilah says, faking vomit to the side. “Outside the bar.”
“Way to go.” Everleigh holds her hand up again to high-five me. I lift my hand in return. “Also yesterday when I got home,” I mumble, hoping they don’t hear me.
“Excuse me?” Lilah retorts.
“I know.” I throw my head back dramatically. “I know, but he was home when I got there, and he opened my bottle of wine.”
“Obviously, that merited a kiss.” Lilah puts her head to the side and closes her eyes as she nods.
“That’s not even the worst part of it.” Now both sets of eyes are on me. “I literally dry humped him,” I confess embarrassingly, hiding my face from them as they both gasp and then laugh.
“That’s why he got you coffee this morning.” Everleigh winks at me.
“I am mortified,” I admit to them. “He kissed me and was leaving, and then the wine hit me.” I look over at Lilah, pointing at her. “This is your fault. You gave me bad wine.”
She bursts out laughing. “I think after you get an orgasm from it, I should be saying you’re welcome.”
I groan, “I’m so dumb.”
“You are not dumb. You like the guy, and the guy obviously likes you if he’s going to let you dry hump him and get nothing in return,” Everleigh states matter-of-factly. “If I give Brock an orgasm and he doesn’t give me two back, I’m not doing it.”
“Okay, I’m already nauseous because of this baby”—Lilah rubs her stomach—“and then this one is making out with Caleb.” She points at me.
I shake my head at her. “Also, I don’t know what you’re talking about. That man can kiss like there is no tomorrow.” I pick up a piece of my bagel and take a bite. “Literally, the best fucking kiss I’ve had in my whole life.” She gawks.
“If he can kiss that good,” Everleigh wonders aloud, “imagine what else he can do with that mouth.” She smirks, and I can’t help but put my hands on my cheeks to stop the redness from creeping up.
“It’ll probably ruin me for all other men.” I close my eyes before I look at both of them, finally admitting, “This was not on my bingo card.” I rub my hand on the top of my thigh. “At all.”
“Those are the best kind,” Everleigh explains softly. “It sneaks up when you’re least expecting it, and boom, you can’t think about a day when you didn’t know him.” She shares those words, and my heart speeds up because whatever it is that is happening with Caleb, it really fucking feels like I’ve known him my whole life when the reality is I just met him.
“One doesn’t fall so fast, so quickly,” I refute, having the two of them look at me. “Right?”
They share a look and a smirk when they both say at the same time, making me slump in my chair, “Wrong.”
Chapter 16
Caleb
“You excited about being home?” Theo asks from the passenger seat of the truck as we pass the halfway mark from Montgavin to my home where I grew up.
I have one hand on the wheel while my arm is lying on the door, the open window letting the breeze come through the cab. “It’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve seen my parents. So I’m excited to see them and then hang with Mila and her crew. Make sure the kids remember their cool uncle Caleb.”
“It hasn’t been a couple of weeks since you’ve been home.” He scoffs at me. “It’s been over two months since you’ve been home.”
“Considering that my home is in Montgavin now”—I look at the road—“I’m just visiting.” He snickers, laughing, no doubt laughing about the state of play that Sierra and I are in, which is a stalemate at this point.
