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Authors: Courtney B. Jones

The Best Kind of Trouble (16 page)

BOOK: The Best Kind of Trouble
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Chapter 19

 

 

Curled in a ball on the couch, I felt sick.  I knew I could go lie in my bunk and plug in my ear buds instead of being subjected to seeing Nathan’s face on the TV.  But, for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to look away.

 

There was an ESPN camera crew in his face and the show kept flipping back and forth between him and his family, to the crowded room and still empty podium, awaiting the announcement of which team was going to pick him.

 

I could turn it off, but then the three boys on the bus with me might all have heart attacks.  Who knew a group of musicians would be so into football?

 

I’d already watched the special blurb they had about where he grew up, his high school the college career, and interviews with his friends and family. 

 

It was painful. And that made me angry.  And embarrassed and ashamed.  Especially, for some reason, in front of Caleb.  But he remained cool and calm and seemingly unaffected, stretched out on the couch next to me, eating his weight in trail mix.

 

I watched him as he picked out the chocolate and shoved a bunch into his mouth.  I made a face.  Caleb looked over at me. 

 

“What?”

 

“Why do you do that? Pick out the chocolate.  Why not just get a bag of chocolate?”

 

He shrugged, one corner of his lips lifted in a half-smile.  “It was all I could find.”

 

I reached for the bag to grab a handful of the discarded peanuts and almonds, but he slapped my hand away playfully. “Hey! Get your own!” 

 

I mock pouted.

 

Mark sat up on the couch opposite of us, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.  “If you want—”

 

“Don’t,” I pointed at him, narrowing my eyes.  “Don’t say whatever disgusting joke you were about to say.”

 

He grinned, then shrugged, and leaned back against the cushions.  “I just wanted to see you blush.”

 

My face heated up on cue. 
Dammit.
 

 

“Ahh! There it is!” he bellowed happily.  “You’re so fine when you get angry and blush bright red, little momma.”

 

I rolled my eyes and threw a pillow at him.  I glanced at Caleb to see his reaction.  But he just continued eating his trail mix.  Not that I wanted him to be jealous.

 

Finally, the commissioner came up to the podium.

 

“As the first overall pick in the 2012 draft, the San Diego Hawks select Nathan Williams.”

 

My heart beat sped up when I heard his name.  He hugged his mom and his dad shook his hand, and all the people around him were jumping and smiling.  Then a pretty girl, with long straight brown hair flung her arms around him and kissed him squarely on the mouth.

 

I sucked in a sharp breath, momentarily stunned.  A cold fist strangled my heart. Tears clogged my throat and I turned away.  That must be
her
.

 

Or some other dumb fool
, my brain commented spitefully.

 

Caleb’s arms wrapped around me and he pulled me onto his lap.  Embarrassed and angry and unwilling to cry for Nathan again, I blinked away my tears, bit my lip and leaned my head against Caleb’s shoulder.

 

“Shhh,” he whispered soothingly. 

 

He ran his fingers through my hair over and over again, until I felt the anger
and
grief and heartbreak recede.  He kissed my temple and then my jaw line, and then my shoulder.  

 

My ugly emotions melted away slowly. When he kissed my neck again something else entirely burned low in my belly.

 

I readjusted myself until I was straddling his thighs, then I tilted my head back and offered my lips to him.  He immediately kissed me, slow and steady and deep.  He slide his fingers up under my tee shirt, taking the thin fabric with him.

 

Suddenly remembering we weren’t alone, I tried to pull away.  Caleb shook his head and held me firmly in place.

 

“No one’s here,” he murmured.  “Mark left, and Jackson’s still out.  Even your manager is probably already asleep,” he assured me.  He kissed me again and then trailed his lips along my jaw, down my neck and across my collarbone. Desire spiraled along my skin.

 

“Although,” he whispered, and I could hear the smile in his voice.  “She might not be in her bed.  I’m pretty sure she’s hooking up with the drummer of Seven Deaths.”

 

I snorted a laugh.  My manager? Johanna?  She was prim and proper and very conservative.  A lawyer.

 


That
guy?” I laughed.

 

He chuckled against me. “You don’t know his name, do you?”

 

I frowned, trying to think.  “Uh…it’s like a scary movie name, right? Meyers or something?”

 

Caleb chuckled, his dark eyes lit up and his whole face changed with the emotion, little lines wrinkling his skin and curving around his plump lips.

 

As sexy as I found the cool and confident Caleb, I liked this side of him even more.

 

He pushed me onto my back and pulled at my pajama shorts, ridding me of them and my panties in one fell swoop.  With his head between my thighs, he grinned up at me with a wicked twinkle in his dark gaze.

 

“Caleb,” I said breathlessly. My skin tingled with anticipation. I squirmed.

 

“Shhh, baby,” he murmured, his breath warm on my sensitive skin. “Let me make you feel wanted.”

 

~000~

 

Caleb was different.  He never got jealous.  Or cocky.  Or angry.  Mark was always flirting and making suggestive comments, and he’d roar with laughter anytime he made me blush.  Caleb would merely smile or laugh along.

 

It’s not that I wanted him to be jealous or act like a possessive caveman.  I just didn’t know where I stood with him.  We’d agreed on “no promises”.  But what did that really mean? 

 

He was tender and affectionate.  Even when I was clearly nursing a broken heart from my ex.

 

“What’s wrong, Parker?” Caleb asked me.  “Your brow is all puckered up.”

 

I focused on his handsome face and bit my lip.  Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “Why are you never jealous?”

 

Oh god. Serious word vomit.

 

I wanted to shove the words back in my mouth, but Caleb just grinned at me and quirked a dark eyebrow. 

 

“You want me to be jealous?”

 

I shook my head.  “No, that’s not—” I sighed.  “Nathan. He—”

 

Caleb stood from where he sat on the opposite side of the table and moved to stand in front of me. Leaning down, he took my chin between his thumb and index finger and tilted it up.

 

“People get jealous when they’re scared of losing,” he said seriously. He bent down and took my lips in a soft sweet kiss, then whispered, “I’m not worried about that.”

 

I swallowed hard.  “You’re not?”

 

“No.”

 

Confidence.  That’s what it was.  Not arrogance or cockiness.  Just smooth, simple confidence oozed from every word, every look, every kiss, and every pore.

 

He kissed me again, a little deeper this time, parting my lips with his top one. His fingers slid up the side of my jaw and he cupped the back of my head, tangling his fingers through the long strands of my hair.

 

He pulled away and disappointment tugged at my insides. 

 

“I’m not worried about losing you,” he said, then he winked and disappeared into the back of the bus.

 

Stunned and confused I fell back against the booth style seat.
What the hell did he mean by that?

 

~000~

 

The next day I was more than ready to get off the tour bus. Our next show was just outside Chicago. Nervous excitement buzzed through me.

 

This was guaranteed to be a big show. Probably my biggest yet.

 

I was stretched out on the couch reading a book when Caleb walked in a plopped down next to me.

 

“Hey,” Caleb said, nudging me with his shoulder. I looked up from my book. “Will you come with me somewhere when we get to Chicago?”

 

I pursed my lips. After his comment yesterday—which I dissected with Katie over the phone—I was still feeling confused and unsure about where I stood with him.

 

“Sure,” I said slowly.  “Where are we going?”

 

“Dinner,” he said. “With my family.”

 

My eyes widened.  “Your family?”

 

For once Caleb’s unflappable calm looked rattled.  His face turned a light shade of red, and he squeezed the back of his neck with one hand, looking down at the floor. He looked up at me through his lashes and my heart picked up.

 

“Yeah, uh...it’s not, I mean,” he sighed.  “I just thought you’d like a home cooked meal.  It’ll just be my dad and stepmom and my two little brothers.”

 

Surprised by this invitation and his reaction, I tried to act nonchalant, cool and calm and unaffected like he was usually so good at being. I shrugged, then forced a smile.  “Okay, sure.  Sounds great.”

 

He flashed me a gorgeous smile. The kind that made his eye crinkle, showing true emotion. For three beats our eyes stayed locked. Then he cleared his throat and turned his eyes to the television.

 

I was left reeling, not sure what had just happened.

 

~000~

 

Caleb’s parents’ house was actually a little outside Chicago in a quaint and quiet suburb.  We took a cab there.  As we traveled along the jam packed freeway, Caleb reached across the small space between us and intertwined his fingers with mine. I looked up surprised, but his eyes were focused on the window.

 

Despite all my reservations—and there were many, starting with the fact that he had said he made
no promises
when we’d started this thing, whatever it was, between us—my heart went all gooey soft.

 

I studied the strong line of his profile.  He seemed different today. Contemplative.  Thoughtful.  I looked down at our intertwined fingers and watched as he stroked my thumb with his calloused one.

 

There was a sudden, unexpected depth to him. To us.  It was like I’d jumped into a pool expecting the water to be sloshing calmly around my ankles. Instead, I was completely emerged, struggling to keep my head above water.

 

We exited the freeway and followed a few winding streets until we came to a stop in front of a large house with pale blue shutters, a giant maple tree in front and perfectly trimmed hedges. 

BOOK: The Best Kind of Trouble
6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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