Crazy, Stupid Sex (12 page)
* * *
He didn’t want to pick up a woman. He’d approached two of them tonight. With the full intent of taking one to bed. It didn’t matter how he felt—like shit, incidentally—he knew this game. He could do it in the midst of grief. He could certainly do it after breaking up with someone.
No, it wasn’t even a breakup. They’d never really been together. It had been just another of his physical-only affairs. It had been sex. Sex and only sex.
Liar.
Yeah, so what? He’d been lying to himself for years. It was what he did. It was right up there with breathing.
One of the biggest lies was that he liked to go out to bars. He hated it. He didn’t want to be here. He wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted to be here. He put his beer down on the table and called his driver.
He got into the car and closed the door, shutting his eyes.
“Home, Mr. Anderson?”
“No,” Caleb said. “No.”
“Where to?”
“Westwood Memorial,” he said, and he really wasn’t sure why. But Dave didn’t ask why, so Caleb didn’t even have to fake a reason, which was great. Because he couldn’t think. He couldn’t do anything but feel. Horrible, horrible feelings.
Why the hell was he going there twice in the space of a week? There was no answer there. He already knew that. There was nothing but stone.
Of course, since his heart felt a bit like stone, maybe that was fitting.
“Just stop here,” he said when they got to the gates.
He walked through and took the well-worn path to Jill’s grave and just stood, his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I feel like it should have been me.” He said it out loud for the first time. “I don’t know why it wasn’t. And I don’t know what to do about it.”
There wasn’t an answer. Of course there wasn’t.
Though, he supposed that was an answer all its own. There was nothing he could do to bring her back. And he was still here. He was still here and he was wasting it, and suddenly he hated himself for it.
The stone was never going to talk back. It was never going to change. And this wasn’t the place he needed to be.
No, he wasn’t good enough for Evie. He was a broken mess.
But he wanted to try. He needed to try.
Because he had survived. And for the first time since then, he really wanted to live.
* * *
A buzzing on her intercom moved her from her slothful position on the couch. She got up and walked over to the front door and hit the button. “Yes?”
“It’s me.”
“What?”
“Caleb.”
“I know but…why are you here?”
“Can you buzz me in?”
“Are you going to say horrible things to me again? Because if so, I think I’ll pass.” Her heart was pounding hard and she felt dizzy. She’d never expected to hear his voice again, and there it was. No mistaking it.
Caleb. And she still loved him. Damn his eyes.
“I’m not going to say anything horrible. At least, I don’t think it’s horrible. I guess…I guess the final verdict on that is up to you.”
She buzzed him in and stepped away from the door, going back to the couch, her hands folded in her lap while she waited for his knock at the door.
When it came, she almost changed her mind. She almost didn’t answer.
“Evie.”
It was his voice again, and she couldn’t not go to him. Even if she should ignore him. Even if she should throw live lobsters on him and hope they pinched dangly bits.
She got up and walked to the door, her hands shaking. Like ripping off a Band-Aid.
She flung it open and put a hand on her hip. “What do you want?” she asked, trying to play it cool. And suddenly very aware that the sweatpants, ratty hair and vague odor of cheesepuffs probably negated the cool facade.
“You,” he said.
The word hung there, and she was sure she must have misheard it. But she didn’t see how she could because it was so simple. Because it could hardly be anything else.
“What?”
“I want you, Evie. I was…I was being a dick.”
“Well…yeah, but please define what you mean by
want me.
Do you want to have more sex with me? Because I enjoyed the sex, Caleb, but it can’t just be that. Not anymore.”
“It’s not enough for me either.”
“Well…what is?”
“I… Can I come in?”
“Sure.” She backed away from the door and swept her hand grandly across the space. “Welcome to my home. Do not touch my
Lord of the Rings
stuff—it’s mint. Now, tell me,” she said, turning to face him, her heart in her throat, “what do you want? Don’t play with me, Caleb, please. I can’t take it.”
“I don’t want to play with you. I…I need you. I need you so much it terrifies me. Not just because of what it means to me, but because of what it means to you.”
“Tell me about it,” she said, sure her heart had stopped altogether.
“I am so screwed up. I don’t even know where to begin. I’ve always been the lazy one. The player. The one who would never amount to much. But it was okay because there was Jill. She was smarter, more driven, more…everything. And then she died. I was in the accident, too.”
“Oh…Caleb.”
“I saw her die. Or…you know, I didn’t even see it, I just…the accident happened. I was fine. I looked over at her…she was already gone.”
“No, Caleb. I’m so sorry.”
“For ten years I’ve wondered why it was her and not me. I’ve been stuck wondering that. Feeling like I wasn’t worthy of this extra shot I got. Proving I wasn’t worthy of it. I realized something tonight.”
“What?” she asked, the word a choked whisper.
“It’s not changing. It’s done. It’s done and I’m still wishing it wasn’t, but it won’t change anything. I have to go on. And I haven’t. I never have. But…but this is the scary thing. I need you and I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to give you back what you need. I just feel like all I can do is take. I feel like…I’ll let you down.”
“Caleb.” She took a step toward him, fighting to keep her emotions in check, just long enough to say what she needed to say. “It’s okay to need me. It’s okay to need other people.”
“But I don’t want to take from you.”
“Caleb, someday I’m going to need you, and I know for a fact that if you love me, you’ll be there. That’s the way it works.”
“But…I don’t deserve any of this, Evie. I don’t deserve you. I don’t even feel like I deserve to be here half the time.”
“But you have me. You have my love. You have life. It doesn’t matter if you deserve it or not.”
“But you…”
“Let me tell you something. I’ve had that bland relationship that was just there to be there. This isn’t that. I love you, Caleb. And I knew it for sure when I felt how much losing you hurt. You make me a better me. Braver. You make me have more fun. You make me ask for what I want and you never make me feel like what I’m doing is wrong. I’ve had my work life down to a science for years, but I never knew how to demand something good in my personal life. Until you. You give so much more to me than you take, and hell, I don’t know if I deserve you. But I want you to be mine anyway.”
“Why do you love me?”
“Because I see the you that you don’t want people to know is there. And I like him. The guy who put me first in bed, who talked to me about popsicle fellatio with a mostly straight face, and who makes me feel like my happiness, my pleasure, my desires are valuable. Actually, I don’t just like that guy, I love him.”
“I love you, too,” he said. “And I’ve only ever said those words to family members. And not once at all in the past ten years. So know that they mean a lot.”
She blinked back tears. “I do.”
“Never doubt it.”
“I won’t. Also, I’m really glad you’re back,” she said, leaning in and kissing him, quick and hard. “Because there’s still more on my list.”
“Is there?”
“Oh yes,” she said. “That was a list of fifty sex tips, you know? And we only did maybe ten.”
“Are you propositioning me?”
She wiggled her hips back and forth, knowing full well she looked like a dork and not caring at all. Because Caleb liked it, and she knew it. “Hellll yesss.”
“I think I’ll go for it—I’m kind of a slut. But only with you.”
“Good to know.” She looked down, a smile curving her lips. “I’m very glad to see you wore your tie. I think you’re going to need it tonight.”
* * * * *
About the Author
Maisey Yates knew she wanted to be a writer even before she knew what it was she wanted to write.
At her very first job she was fortunate enough to meet her very own tall, dark and handsome hero, who happened to be her boss, and promptly married him and started a family. It wasn’t until she was pregnant with her second child that she found her very first Harlequin Presents® book in a local thrift store—by the time she’d reached the happily ever after, she had fallen in love. She devoured as many as she could get her hands on after that, and she knew that these were the books she wanted to write!
She started submitting, and nearly two years later, while pregnant with her third child, she received The Call from her editor. At the age of twenty-three, she sold her first manuscript to the Harlequin Presents line, and she was very glad that the good news didn’t send her into labor!
She still can’t quite believe she’s blessed enough to see her name on not just any book, but on her favorite books.
Maisey lives with her supportive, handsome, wonderful, diaper-changing husband and three small children across the street from her parents and the home she grew up in, in the wilds of southern Oregon. She enjoys the contrast of living in a place where you might wake up to find a bear on your back porch, then walk into the home office to write stories that take place in exotic, urban locales.
Books by Maisey Yates
Pretender to the Throne
(The Call of Duty)
Forged in the Desert Heat
A Hunger for the Forbidden
His Ring Is Not Enough
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ISBN: 978-1-4603-2641-1
CRAZY, STUPID SEX
Copyright © 2014 by Maisey Yates
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