“Pizza, bath, wine, bed.” I tick the items off my fingers and smile up at him.
“Sweet, sounds fun, I’ll order the pizza.” He pulls out his phone. After a minute of staring at him in shock, I manage to shake myself out of it, snatching his phone from his hand.
“Uh, I don’t think so, hotshot.” I lock his phone and slip it back into his pocket, watching the stupid smirk grow even further across his face.
“I’m tired, exhausted even, and ready to be surrounded by peace, not your arrogance.” I pat him on the chest and turn to continue up the sidewalk, but before I can take another step, I’m yanked back and pulled into his hard chest, his grip warm on my wrist.
“I’m too tired for the games tonight, and I’m not your plaything,pet,” he all but growls, giving way to that edge I had recognized before. The pretty playboy puts on his bossy pants—a new side of Caleb I secretly want to see more of. The memory of the way he growled at me over the phone after my little gift last week has me shivering. I have to work extra hard on not showing him the way my pulse has ricocheted in my chest, though I’m sure he feels it with the way his finger presses into my wrist. “Let’s get some pizza, I’ll pour you a glass of wine and a bath.” His grip moves from my wrist to the back of my neck, where he massages the muscles there with a pressure so firm I can’t help the quiet moan that slips from my lips.Jesus.“Let me work the tension out of your muscles and your mind. We can use your bed if you like, but I don’t need any specific surface, the bath will work just fine too.” His devilish hands continue their ministrations on my neck as he leans down and whispers in my ear, “I’m done with your game of cat and mouse, Rosebud. It’s Friday night, we’re both exhausted and I want to unwind the right way.” He pulls back and looks me over with his hooded eyes before he continues, “Can we put a pin in the hard-to-get act and fuck the tension out of our shitty weeks so we can get back to what we’re good at?”Oh my god.
I want to know more about this shitty week he speaks about. God only knows why, but for some reason that bit of information sparked my curiosity, and I find myself wanting him to…ohhell…talkto me. I want conversation. I want to knock back a glass of wine, curl up on the couch with comfort food, and actuallytalkto Caleb. With our clothes on.
It has to be the exhaustion. I am finally losing my mind.
I bury it. All of it—the feelings and the stupid thoughts. I open my lips to say something—what, though, I have no idea. Before I can work it out, his massage on my neck travels down my spine, only making me fall into his chest, and the act alone has words leaving my mouth without permission.
“Yes.”
“I can’t believe you eat pineapple on your pizza.”
“I can’t believe youdon’t,” I tease back, unlocking my front door and stepping through, holding it so Caleb can enter with the pizza and wine we picked up on our way.
“Make yourself at home, I guess.” I gesture to the living room. “I’m just going to change.”
“Let’s just eat and have some wine, you can change when I run your bath.” He tosses out nonchalantly, like this is normal, like the notion of him coming over, pouring me a bath, and plying me with wine is just another Friday night for us.
I level a skeptical look at him, but he remains focused on pouring the glasses of wine, removing his tie, and unbuttoning the top of his shirt as he gets comfy on the couch. I plead with my exhaustion to allow me to keep everything in check for just a couple more hours until the sex pest clears out.
“Okay then. So, tell me”—I swipe my glass from where he hands it to me, and I make myself comfortable on the couch—“why was your week so shitty?”
He drinks his wine and breathes out a heavy sigh before relaxing deeper into the couch cushions. His stunning eyes almost glitter as he looks at me, his attention never wavering.
“Just the usual. Had to make some staff changes, which increased my workload. I could delegate, but?—”
“If you want it done right, you do it yourself,” I finish for him, and he flicks me a small smile. “Staff changes? Is that a nice way of saying you fired people?” I bite my lip to hide the amusement in my face, and he just groans, throwing back the rest of his wine before pouring another one.
“The worst part of the job, unfortunately. You’ll know about that soon enough, I suppose.”
“So youdoknow about the editor in chief position.” I pay attention to his facial expressions and the way he rolls his shoulders like he’s holding a tension within them.
“Obviously, it was my idea. Your idiot boss was laying off people in the middle of a rebrand. I had to do something to help them save face.”
“Because it makes you look bad.”
“Obviously,” he teases, digging in and pulling apart the pizza before taking a slice. I place my glass on the coffee table and do the same as he continues, “So why are you so stressed, worried you don’t have the job in the bag?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. That job is obviously mine.” I wave him off as I bite into a piece of pizza and he narrows his eyes at me.
“But?”
“What?”
“The job is obviously yours…but?”
Goddamnit. He isn’t meant to be this good at reading me.
“But,Dick-bag Daniel is making my life hell. He suddenly pulls a work ethic out of his ass the moment a promotion is dangled in front of him like a carrot. And Liza keeps so much to herself I have no idea where she is at, and I will deny it if you tell anybody, but I’m worried she will get it.”
“She won’t.”
