Stay With Me (3 page)

I’m so wrapped in my thoughts as I turn around the bend that I bump into something really hard. My Styrofoam cup sloshes against my white shirt, and I jump back from the shock of it. My drink and bags drop to the ground, and I start to fall backward when firm hands grab my arms to steady me.

I didn’t bump into something, but . . .
someone
.

I look up, and a gasp escapes me.

It’s not just
any
someone.

It’s Caleb Fox. The guy I met outside last night. The very same guy who consumed my thoughts all night.

He’s wearing a pair of gym shorts and a white muscle tanks that shows off his really ripped arms. His inky black hair is slightly damp, and he looks just as surprised to see me as I am to see him.

“Hey,” he says, running his hands up and down my arms to presumably check for bruises. His touch leaves a trail of goose bumps in their wake, and I’m really hoping he doesn’t notice. “Are you okay? You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

“I’m fine.” I kneel down to pick up my bags at the same time as he does. We’re both at the same level, and . . . Wow, his eyes really are such a dark green. “It’s only tea.”

“Still, I feel really bad.”

“You shouldn’t. I was the one who bumped into you. Maybe I should be the one asking if you’re hurt.”

“If I said yes, would you kiss it and make it better?”

My cheeks heat up, and I quickly look away. I busy myself with putting my purchases back into the bags, with Caleb helping out. I shake the tea off the daisies. I take my time putting stuff into my bags. I study the two packages of fresh blackberries, glad I’d decided to have the man cover the top of them in Saran wrap. Basically, I do everything I think I can until I think my blush has faded.

“Hey,” he says again, this time more softly. “I’m only teasing you.”

My gaze shoots up to his.

“About the kissing,” he adds.

It feels like someone just dumped hot tea all over me again. I don’t give anything away, though; I just stare at him blankly.

“It was—” Caleb stops himself from continuing, and he drags his hand through his hair, disheveling the inky strands even more so. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t upset me,” I say more sharply than I intend to.

But, wow, talk about jumping to conclusions. Of course he didn’t mean anything. It was just him innocently teasing me. It’s not like he really meant he wanted to kiss me. None of this should matter anyway. I don’t want his kisses. I don’t want to be kissed by him. Not at all.

“I’m fine. I’m perfectly fine.” I get up, dust off my pants, and start to reach for my bags, but Caleb already has them.

“I saw fresh blackberries. Those are my fave.” He shoots me a hopeful look.

“You are
not
poaching my blackberries.”

“Not even one?”

“Not even a nibble.” I try to take my bags from him, but he refuses to let go. I place my hands on my hips. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Working out. I went for a run today. Not my usual thing, but that’s what Nick wanted.”

“Who’s Nick?”

“That guy.” Caleb glances behind his shoulder and gestures to a tall, built, dark-haired man who’s talking to the redhead who sold me the daisies. “Obviously he got detained.”

“Obviously.”

Caleb’s lips curve into a smile, but it soon disappears when he glances at my t-shirt again. “Hailey, I live just right around the corner. You can come over, and I’ll get you a shirt so you’re not soaked. And then I can give you a ride home so you don’t have to walk back with these bags.”

“I don’t know,” I hedge.

“Seriously, it’s right there.” He points to a bright yellow, two-story house with a gleaming black door, just down the street.

Two huge oak trees guard each side of the house, and a shorter tree with white blossoms is slightly curved forward, like it’s bowing before royalty. A wrought iron gate surrounds the property, and cheery red flowers weave in and out of the posts, almost as if they’re playing peek-a-boo with people who walk by on the sidewalk.

“In and out,” he promises. “It won’t take more than five minutes.”

I study him. The shirt
is
uncomfortable, and maybe I just want to spend more time with Caleb—and to also make up for my rude behavior from the party. “I think you’re just trying to steal my blackberries.”

“What? Me? Nah. I’d never do that.”

A laugh escapes me. “Sure, you wouldn’t.”

“The offer is open for a ride home and a clean shirt.”

Color rises in my cheeks heat upon his lingering gaze. I really need to get control over this blushing. I’m not so easily flustered, but it’s like I can’t get control of myself around Caleb.

And control is very important to me.

There were many things I promised myself when I left Hollywood for college. But the one thing I swore to do was to
not
pursue any romantic relationships. Been there, done that. And don’t need to repeat it. Ever again.

The smarter thing to do is insist Caleb give me my bags and head on my way—alone. My apartment isn’t
that
far, and I’m seizing on any excuse to stay a little longer with him. And I swore last night I wasn’t going to do that, but . . .

But I can’t move away.

I don’t do anything I
should
be doing. Instead . . .

“Okay, that’d be great,” I find myself saying, surprising myself.

And then I feel foolishly glad I said yes so eagerly, especially when his eyes light up in delighted surprise.

I have a moment of doubt before Caleb says anything, where I wonder if I’d made the right choice by saying yes. But I stop second guessing when he looks over at me and smiles.

“Let’s go then,” he says, still holding onto my bags.

“What about your friend?”

Caleb looks toward Nick, who’s still deep in conversation with the flower girl. “I somehow think he’ll manage.”

I grab the now empty cup, and when we near the street corner, I dump the trash into a nearby bin. Caleb adjusts his long-legged stride to match my much shorter one, and we fall into easy silence. Butterflies perform somersaults in my stomach every time his gaze slides to mine. I keep wondering what he’s thinking and what he sees when it comes to me.

And then I wonder why I even care.

Perhaps this is just all a big case of lust. I comfort myself with that thought. Lust is temporary, and it doesn’t last for long. And it can also be ignored. Easily.

This is just a big whole case of having a crazy attraction. That makes the most sense to me, the best answer. I want to bang my head against the street light for not putting it together before now.

The big attraction for Caleb is that it’s me.
The
Hailey Bloom. I can’t stop focusing on that, but it’s the truth. Why should he be any different from anyone else? Sure, he might seem like a nice guy in offering to help both last night and today, but—

Caleb stops suddenly as we cross the street. His place is just a few more doors ahead. “Are you afraid of dogs? Or allergic to them?”

“No . . . and no.”

“What about ferrets?”

I raise my eyebrows. Where exactly is this going? “No.”

“Fish?”

“Is it a shark?”

His lips quirk. “No. But his name is Jaws.”

“What about the dog?”

“Goliath is the dog. And Spartacus is the ferret.”

We walk up the sidewalk to his front house. There are three lawn chairs, a bright blue rocking chair, and a little table with a deck of cards laid out on the front porch. Two small ferns stand on either side of the welcome mat.

He stops at the door and drags a hand through his hair. “Goliath is mine. He’s friendly. A little too friendly.”

“Gotcha.”

He takes out a slim gold key and unlocks the door. We step inside, and I immediately hear a low
woof, woof, woof
as Caleb shuts the door behind us. With a name like Goliath, I’m preparing myself for a monstrosity. Perhaps something huge, like a German shepherd or a pit bull.

I brace myself, but Caleb steps in front of me. “Goliath, be nice.”

“
That’s
Goliath?”

A tiny Yorkshire terrier is jumping on its hind legs, its tail wagging furiously. He is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

“Yes, the fearsome Goliath who likes to steal baseball hats and socks.”

“I was expecting something . . . bigger.”

Caleb shifts one of the bags so that he’s holding both in one hand, and then he leans down to scratch Goliath’s head. “He’s a good dog. Do you want to pet him?”

I don’t answer him but mirror Caleb’s position. Goliath jumps up and plants wet dog kisses all over my face. I laugh and wipe my face. “I see what type of dog you are, Goliath. Stealing kisses and all that.”

Caleb’s face is unreadable when I glance over at him with a huge smile over my face.

“Let’s head to the kitchen,” he says after a moment. “We can set the bags down there, and then I’ll grab you another shirt.”

I follow Caleb down the hall with Goliath scampering between us, still jumping up on his hind legs, almost begging to be picked up. It’s tempting. He really is the cutest little dog.

The kitchen is in the back of the house—it’s of a comfortable size with a somewhat open plan, the family room in plain view. There are huge windows that look out to the backyard with a view of Lake Champlain. Caleb places the bags down on the small island and tosses his empty water bottle into the recycle bin. He heads to the fridge.

“Can I ask you something?” I ask.

He nods.

“This house is part of the college?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Green College bought this whole row of houses for students.”

“Oh.”

“Do you want anything to drink? Eat?”

I shake my head no.

“Okay.” He swallows and stands there for a minute. “I’ll just run upstairs and get you something to wear. I’ll be back in a few. Goliath won’t do anything but beg you to pet him.”

Caleb leaves, and I glance around the kitchen. A newspaper is on the round table, opened to the sports section. A sliding glass door leads out to a deck and nice-sized lawn. I turn back around and head to the fridge, too curious to avoid it any longer. Pictures line the outside of a fridge. I spot Caleb in a few, as well as Nick. There are two other guys in some of the photos—a tall, muscular blond with light blue eyes and an easygoing smile, and a super-ripped guy with lightly shorn dark brown hair and a perpetual scowl in most.

Goliath gives a pitiful whine at my feet, and I kneel down to run my fingers through his silky fur. “I’m sorry. I’ve been ignoring you. Aren’t you just the cutest little doggie?”

The dog jumps into my arms and slobbers my face again with kisses. I laugh and scratch behind Goliath’s ears. The dog scrambles down and heads to a corner in the kitchen. He runs back with a squeaky toy in his mouth. I toss the toy down the hall, and Goliath runs after it. We do this a few times until Caleb comes back. I quickly get up and wipe my hands on my pants.

He’s got an amused look on his face, and he holds up a navy blue tee. “This will be huge on you.”

“Thank you,” I say. “I’m sure it’ll fit. I like big things.”

Oh God. Did I just say
that
? I can’t even look at Caleb.

“The bathroom is down the hall.” There’s a trace of laughter in his voice.

I take the shirt from him and make my escape before I do or say anything more embarrassing. God, I’m better than this. I’m usually so in control and don’t say stupid things like I have with Caleb. I shut the bathroom door behind me and get a good look at myself.

Oh. My. God.

I’m a complete mess.

My hair looks greasy, my face sweaty, and the tea stain on my shirt resembles the shape of South Africa.

No wonder Caleb kept staring at me.

I quickly take off my stained shirt and set it on the covered toilet seat. I turn the sink on and wash my hands, face, and splash some water under my armpits before I put on Caleb’s shirt. It’s clean and, as Caleb predicted, huge on me, hitting my mid-thighs. I gather the extra material and tie it in a knot at my waist. Then, I readjust my ponytail and decide to leave my hoodie off.

I still don’t look great, but it’ll have to do. And I shouldn’t care anyway.

Keeping telling yourself that, Hailey.

Giving myself a firm look in mirror, I head out and walk back to the kitchen. My bags are still on the island, and Caleb is sitting at the round table with Goliath curled on the hardwood floor in a patch of sunlight. Caleb glances up when I enter and gives me an innocent smile. A too innocent smile.

I narrow my eyes at him and head straight to my bags. I find the blackberries, intact, and none appear to be missing.

“So suspicious,” Caleb says from across the room.

“I’m surprised you didn’t sneak a few. You did say you liked them after all,” I say, taking one container out and setting it on the counter. I put my hoodie down next to it.

“Nah.” He gets up and walks toward me. “Besides, I still hold out hope you’ll give me one of your own free will.”

I remove the Saran wrap and take out one plump blackberry. “Like this one?”

He holds his hand out, palm upward. “Just like that. A blackberry for a shirt. Sounds fair to me.”

I drop the blackberry into his hand, and then reach for another one. I pop it into my mouth, and the sweet tartness of the berry floods my taste buds.

Caleb still hasn’t eaten his.

I raise an eyebrow. “Not eating yours?”

“No, it’s . . .” He takes a deep breath, his gaze fastening on my mouth. “It’s just, you have something right there.”

Great. Just great. I’m dribbling blackberry juice in front of a guy I find really attractive, sexy, irresistible, but totally shouldn’t. God, what is wrong with me?

I lick my mouth. “All gone?”

“Still there,” he says, his voice gruffer than before.

I do another pass at my mouth, then wipe it.

“No, you’re missing it.” Then he steps closer to me, and I suddenly can’t find my breath. “Here. Let me.”

His thumb dabs at the corner of my mouth, his every touch sending sparks through my body. His dark, dark green eyes fly to mine. “I think I got it all.”