Intimate (12 page)

Just two nights
ago, she’d wept into that same shoulder. And he had held her, comforted her,
made everything better.

But that was
when he’d been the Caleb she knew. Her Caleb. The Caleb who was her friend and
didn’t find her attractive.

Not this Caleb.
Not this hot, intense, hard stranger.

She didn’t even
know who this man was.

To her relief,
the song ended at last.

Marissa pulled
out of his arms. They stared at each other for a long, tense moment.

He looked like
he was about to say something, but Marissa couldn’t stand it, couldn’t hear the
words that she knew would demolish what was left of her world.

So she escaped
the only way she could.

She whirled
around and ran toward the women’s restroom.

***

Marissa was doing her best not
to sob as she barreled through the door and stood gasping in the bathroom.
Glancing quickly under the three stalls, she was relieved to see that she was
the only one in the room.

She forced
herself to breathe deeply. Moving over to the sink, she stared at her
reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were burning, and even the fair skin on
her neck and shoulders was pink against the wine-color of her dress. Her hair
was tumbled—from the dancing, she assumed—and there was something wild in her
eyes.

Marissa almost
didn’t recognize herself.

Turning on the
cold water, she splashed her hot cheeks, then blotted them dry with a paper
towel, doing her best to preserve her discreet eye makeup. The rest of her
makeup was a lost cause, so she dampened another paper towel and worked at
cooling down her skin.

Tried to
convince herself she was being overly dramatic.

Things weren’t
as bad as they seemed. So Caleb had been aroused just now. It wasn’t the end of
the world. It happened all the time. Men got hard. Big deal. Get over it. Move
on.

Yes, sex still
made her feel sick, but she could deal with that. She’d had the same reaction for
years, and she’d learned to work around it.

But why had he
been aroused by
her
? Was this the first time, or had he been having
those kinds of thoughts for a while now? How had she not known about it?

And what the
hell was she supposed to do about it now?

She and Caleb
clearly needed to talk. Figure things out. Surely this type of unpleasant
circumstance happened in friendships between men and women occasionally. It
didn’t have to mean everything was irrevocably altered.

It was just a
physical response.

They would talk
about it. They could clear the air and go back to their familiar relationship.
They were both adults. They could both
act
like adults.

Marissa tried
to be fair. Be honest. Tried to sort through her feelings. Closed her eyes and
tried to imagine having sex with Caleb, to see if she was truly in denial about
something she secretly wanted.

Saw Caleb—handsome,
brilliant, articulate Caleb, who could create such beauty out of strings and a
bow—transformed into a sweaty, thrusting animal between her legs. Heard him
panting and grunting out inane, demeaning things. Things she’d heard said to
her babysitter years ago. Pictured him pawing at her, sweating on her, slapping
his body against hers. Hurting her like the guy had in college.

Marissa almost
gagged at the thought.

It didn’t
matter that Caleb wasn’t normally like that. The guy in college hadn’t been
either. The idea of sex had been prettified by romantic stories, but when it
came right down to it, there was still just the raw, base ugliness of the act.

She’d spoken to
Caleb on the phone last night about keeping open possibilities in her life, and
she’d meant it.

Maybe
eventually her feelings would change about sex. She didn’t want to trap herself
because of bad experiences in her past.

Maybe one day
she’d have sex again.

But not with Caleb.

Never with Caleb.

What she wanted
from him was his friendship, his companionship, his care and concern, his
humor, his wit, his intelligence, his depth, and the heart he never wanted to
admit he had. She wanted the intimacy of their interaction, their cuddling
together on the sofa. The warm fuzzy feelings he could evoke with only a quirk
of his lips.

She didn’t want
him to fuck her.

She would go
back out there and act normal. Wait until they could get rid of Baron—damn the
man anyway, for his arrogance and presumption in treating both of them like
entertaining experiments—and then she would have a very serious conversation
with Caleb.

She’d feel much
better after that was over.

A woman Marissa
recognized as a hostess at the restaurant came into the restroom just then.
“Ms. Dalton?” she asked discreetly.

“Yes.”

“Your friend
was a little worried about you and asked me to make sure you were all right.”

Marissa flushed
again and glanced at her watch. How long had she been in here anyway? Twenty
minutes? Longer? “Oh, thanks. I’m fine. I’m going back out now.”

Trying to
smile, she exited the restroom and saw Caleb almost immediately. He was leaning
against the wall across from the bathroom door with his hands in his pockets.

He straightened
as soon as he saw her. Stepped over and gently cupped her cheek. It wasn’t a
scary touch or a sexual one, so Marissa leaned her face into it. “Is everything
all right?” His eyes were tender and slightly anxious, and the expression did a
lot to relieve her fears about his sudden transformation.

No, everything
wasn’t all right, but she nodded and met his eyes evenly. She wasn’t going to
be coward anymore. “Fine. Just too warm.”

It was a
ridiculous excuse, but Caleb didn’t question her. He watched her soberly
without speaking, his hand moving lightly against her hot cheek.

“Is Baron
waiting?” she asked, in a voice that was so cheerful it sounded jarring to her
own ears. His touch had been nice to begin with, but now it was going on too
long.

“Yes.” He
dropped his hand and fell in stride with her as they went back to their table.
“He ordered desserts, I believe.”

Marissa had a
sudden image of Baron James scarfing down three pieces cheesecake as he sat
alone at the table and waited for them to return. Despite herself, she almost
giggled at the image. “For just him? Or for us too?”

“Us.”

It was merely
an answer to her question, but something about the way he said the one word
made Marissa shoot a quick look in his direction. The sweetness had fled from
his eyes now, and he was looking at her hungrily.

Like
she
was the dessert.

She jerked her
head to the side, so she wouldn’t have to see his hot gaze.

They definitely
needed to have a little chat. This wouldn’t do at all. How was she supposed to
act normally and rationally when he kept looking at her like that?

They made it
through dessert, although it was mostly a blur to Marissa. Then they said their
goodbyes to Baron on the street outside the restaurant.

Just before he
walked away, Baron made a little turn and leaned over toward her until his lips
were next to her ear. “Don’t give him too hard a time. And don’t hate me too
much. It’ll be better out in the open.”

She wasn’t sure
if this were true or not, and she hadn’t yet forgiven him, so, putting a hand
on his shoulder, she murmured into his ear, “You’re a miserable asshole who
likes to torture people for fun.”

Baron chuckled
huskily and was about to respond, when Caleb made a move.

Marissa
panicked for no reason she could explain.

She couldn't
even specify how Caleb had moved. He hadn't taken a step or stretched out an
arm. But the shift in his body felt aggressive, confrontational. So she pulled
away from Baron and moved between them, suddenly terrified that they would
actually get into a fight—no matter how insane and clichéd that would be.

“Stop being grumpy,"
she demanded, glaring at Caleb. “Grumpy” wasn't actually the right word, but
she thought deflection was her best strategy. “Baron was just saying
goodbye." Then she turned to Baron, who’d been about to react
automatically to Caleb’s aggression. “And, you, go away now. You’ve caused
enough trouble.”

Baron,
recovering quickly, actually smiled in amusement again. “Well, I believe my
work is done. Don’t hold a grudge, Caleb. My motives were spotless and pure.”

 “Get a grip,”
she muttered to Caleb, when she saw him snarl.

And then, to her
immense relief, Baron disappeared into a cab.

“Let’s go.” She
pushed Caleb toward his car. “I’ve had just about enough of you and your macho
stupidity.”

“Marissa,” he
began, finally relaxing and pulling himself together. The uncoiling of his
tension was a great relief to her. She'd never seen Caleb so worked up—never,
in her entire life.

“Not now,” she said,
using his words from earlier. “We’ll talk when we get back home.”

The ride to her
apartment building was silent and edgy, and Caleb kept looking over at her, as
if he were trying to read her mind.

She didn’t know
what to think—about anything. But she did know certain things had to be
addressed if they were ever going to get past this awkward tangle.

So she spent
the entire ride planning out a rational, convincing speech. She’d approach Caleb
diplomatically. Get him to open up. Convince him to see reason. And then smooth
over any remaining weirdness between them.

She was pleased
with her plan of attack and had all the words strategically planned out in her
mind as he walked her up to her apartment.

When they
reached her door, they both went in and stood in the entryway staring at each
other.

“We need to
talk,” she began, ready to launch into her well-planned speech.

“Yeah. We do.”
He paused. “How would you like to start?”

Marissa took a
deep breath. Looked into his eyes. Couldn’t look away. Was so startled and
terrified by what she saw there that she forgot her entire speech. Said something
unplanned. Instinctive. Utterly stupid.

“Are you in
love with me or something?”

Caleb said the first thing that
popped into his head. “No!”

Marissa blinked
but revealed no other reaction.

“I mean,” he
mumbled, realizing what he’d just said and not sure if it was even true, “I
don’t know. I just don’t know.”

God, he sounded
like a moron. How had he descended into such a state of pathetic incoherence?

“Caleb, please
tell me what’s going on.”

He was ready to
tell her. He just wished he knew how to explain it.

Emotions were
so much easier to articulate if they weren’t so jumbled, chaotic, and
overwhelming—like a storm inside his chest. He managed to say, “My feelings for
you are changing.”

Marissa nodded,
as if that came as no surprise to her. How could it? After he’d been hard
against her while they were dancing? After he’d acted like a mindless caveman
and insecure teenager at dinner with James?

She was
watching him closely now. “You’re starting to…to lust after me?”

Something about
the way she said it made Caleb feel guilty—as if lusting after her had betrayed
her faith in him. “Yes. But there are other feelings too.”

If only he knew
what to do with those feelings.

 “So now you’re
trying to get me into bed?”

“Don’t make it
sound dirty. I thought maybe you had feelings like mine but hadn’t realized it.
I should have just come out and told you, but this is as strange for me as it
is for you. I’ve never been in a situation like this before.”

He hadn’t, so
he’d been trying to deal with it the same way he’d dealt with his romantic interests
in the past. His moves had never failed before. They’d always gotten him what
he wanted.

But they hadn’t
worked on Marissa. At all.

She looked upset,
bewildered. “So what do you expect to happen now?”

“I don’t know.
I really don’t. I just want to follow through on these feelings and see what
happens.”

“We’re friends,
Caleb. That’s all we’ve ever been.”

“Why can’t that
change?” He suddenly felt better. If she was starting to debate the issue, then
that meant at least she was taking it seriously.

“I don’t want
it to change.”

Only the
stupid, arrogant part of his self had hoped she would melt from a few of his
touches, confess to secret feelings for him, and then let him carry her off to
bed. The rest of his self—the sane, intelligent, realistic part—knew that this
was going to be rather difficult. They had years of set patterns to dismantle
between them, but he wouldn’t let that intimidate him. “I didn’t want it to
change either. But it changed anyway.”

She looked
away, covering her mouth with her hand. “I don’t want to mess up what we have.”

He was getting
encouraged, as she appeared to start to waver. “It won’t mess things up between
us. It will only make them better.”

“No, it won’t. Friendships
don’t survive something like this.”

“We’ll still be
friends. That will never change. We’ll just add something more to our
friendship.” He chose his words and pitched his voice intentionally, knowing
what appealed to her, knowing the way her mind worked.

“So we’ll be
friends who fuck?” she asked, looking vaguely disgusted at the thought.

“No!” He was
horrified that she thought that was what he had in mind. “I don’t want to just
fuck you.” He took a deep breath, tried to find the words. Forced his way
through the resistance that rose up as he started to speak. “I want a
relationship with you,” he managed to say, although his voice was strained and
unnatural.

He’d never said
anything like that before, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

“We’re
in
a relationship. We have been since we were kids.” She swallowed so hard he
could see it. “What you’re saying is that you want our relationship to be
romantic.”

“Yes.” He was
glad she’d said the words instead of him. That was exactly what he wanted.

“And sexual,”
she added, something strange flickering across her expression.

“Yes.”

“And what will
happen to our friendship when the romantic relationship is over?”

“Why do you assume
it will end? There’s a risk in beginning any relationship. That’s what you face
when you enter one.”

“It’s too big a
risk.” She glanced away and down to the floor. “I can’t lose you.”

He was close
now. He could feel it. She must be on the edge—only fear was holding her back. He
made his voice as confident and gentle as he was capable of. “So we’ll make
sure that never happens.”

She didn’t
respond. Didn’t look back up. Didn’t seem to react in any way.

They were both still
standing in the entryway, and Caleb still had his back to the front door. Marissa
was a few feet away, looking small and lost and lovely in her red dress. Her
skin was fair, almost luminescent. Her eyes were lowered, causing her eyelashes
to fan out against her skin.

His body
reacted to her, but so did his heart. They were both pulling him toward her,
compelling him to claim what was his.

What had always
been his.

It was time to
change tactics, so he took a step closer and took her hand lightly in his. “Marissa,
are you saying that you don’t have any sexual feelings for me at all?” He asked
the question gently, no demand or intensity in his tone.

“A few. Occasionally.
Just in passing,” she admitted, relieving some kind of deep anxiety that Caleb
hadn’t even known he possessed. “But that’s just a natural, physical reaction. It
doesn’t mean anything.”

“Why can’t we
just take it slow and see what happens? I’m willing to wait until you’re sure
this is something you want.”

She shook her
head and looked at the wall, her face desperate and torn. “I don’t want to.”

He was starting
to think that maybe she did. She was afraid—who wouldn’t be after closing
herself off to sex for so long—but fear was so easily overcome. “I’m not
expecting to jump right into bed with you. We can take it as slowly as you
need. You told me that you might be willing to give sex another try.”

Her eyes were
deep and aching when she gazed up at him again. “But not with you.”

And that hurt.
Hurt more than any words had in years. She wasn't trying to hurt him, though.
She was afraid, and he could understand why.

Lifting her
hand higher, he brushed his lips over her knuckles. “You’ve never thought about
it before. Just think about it now. We could be so good together. All I’m
asking for is a chance.”

He turned her
hand over and pressed a kiss onto the pulse in her wrist. Felt her heart
throbbing through her skin.

“You love me,”
he continued. Closed his eyes momentarily to work up enough courage to say what
he knew he had to say. “And I love you. What better foundation could we have to
build a relationship on?”

He’d never told
her he loved her before, although she’d said it to him plenty of times. It had
been harder to say than he’d thought, and he was expecting some sort of reward
for his efforts, for his honesty.

But she didn’t
even seem to notice, as if he'd merely said something she'd always known. “I
love you like you’re a brother or something along those lines, not like a—”

“You just told
me that you’d sometimes felt sexual—”

“That’s just a
physical response,” she insisted, yanking her hand out of his grasp. “Listen to
me. You can make rational arguments and try to persuade me all you want. It’s
not going to change this one thing.”

Caleb sucked in
his breath, suddenly terrified.

 “This is the
only thing that matters.” She paused, spoke the words, as if she couldn’t bear
to say them out loud. “Caleb, I just don’t ever want to have sex with you.”

If he could
have continued to believe she was in denial or that she was trying to hide
behind her fear, then it wouldn’t have been quite so unbearable.

But he
couldn’t. And it
was
unbearable.

He knew Marissa—better
than anyone else. She meant what she said.

It didn’t
matter what Caleb felt about her or how deep his feelings went.

She might love
him, but she didn’t want him.

And there was
no overcoming that truth.

He realized
with a wave of nausea that his devastation must be visible on his face, because
she made a sound of concern and reached her hand out to him, realizing how much
she'd wounded him and wanting to make it better.

Caleb eluded
her touch. Couldn’t stand her pity. This hurt more than…well, more than
anything he could remember. But it wasn't the end of the world. He had only a
few weeks of his life invested in this—so surely he could get over it in a
reasonable span of time.

“All right,” he
said, his voice almost breaking. “I understand. It was stupid of me to assume
that, just because I felt something, you would as well. We’ll just go back to
being friends. I won’t bring it up again.”

The words
sounded dreadful, awful, like some sort of bell tolling his doom. He tried not
to hear them and mocked himself bitterly for becoming so melodramatic.

This was just a
disappointment. A deep one, yes. But nothing earth-shattering. Nothing that
would level his life.

It wasn’t as if
his heart had been broken.

Tears started
to stream out of her eyes, and despite himself he wanted to go comfort her.
“But we can’t go back. Everything is different. Sex will always be between us
now.”

She started to
sob and raised her hands to cover her face.

“Marissa,” he
began, reaching out for her.

“I don’t know if
it can ever be the same between us again.”

He jerked back,
as if her words had been a physical blow. If she were right—if this were
true—then it was so much worse than he’d ever imagined.

He might be
able to exist without having Marissa in his bed.

But could he
exist without having her in his life?

Everything hurt
so much he wasn’t sure he could process it. “Marissa,” he began again.

He had no idea
what to say. Couldn't remember any other words.

She took a
clumsy step backwards. “I can’t do this now.”

He stared at
her blankly.

“I’m so sorry, Caleb.
I know I’ve hurt you, and we can talk later.” She was crying helplessly, so her
words were almost incoherent. “But I can’t do this now.”

He evidently
needed to make it home, so he tried to block out her voice and wounded face.

“Can you just
leave now? Please.”

Blocking them
out didn’t help. He heard her words. Knew what they meant.

Marissa loved
him. She would never have done this to him, would never have hurt him this
much, if there were any possibility of her returning his feelings.

Silently, he
turned around and reached for the doorknob. Turned it. Pulled the door open.
Took a step into the hall. Each individual action stood out starkly. Took on
excruciating significance.

He hadn’t seriously
expected it to be easy, but he’d never doubted that he’d ultimately be
successful in the end.

And never had
it crossed his mind that his attempt to get more from Marissa might actually
take something away.

Might actually
take
everything
away.

She closed the
door behind him, and he could hear her weeping on the other side.

He turned to
stare at the closed door, unable to make his feet move.

He should have
known better.

Being free—and
not trapped—had always been his first priority, and that meant a few simple
things.

When it came to
human interaction, you took what was offered when it was offered, and you
didn't ask for anything more.

Caleb tried to
walk down the hall toward the elevator, but he couldn’t. He slumped down until
he sat on the floor of the hallway, with his back against the wall across from
her apartment.

He tried to
think of a way out of this, back to the man he’d always been.

He could quit
the symphony. Join James’s jazz band. Drown everything in an entirely new life.

An escape
route, if he wanted to take it.

He hoped
Marissa was all right. Hoped she wasn't bleeding like he was.

He wished he
hadn't gotten up this morning. Wished he’d been able to control his damned
cock. Wished he’d been content with what the universe had offered him.

Wished he’d
managed to stay free.

***

In less than a minute, her
apartment door flew open, and she burst into the hall.

“Caleb!” she
cried, taking a few running steps toward the elevator. “Caleb! Don’t go! Caleb!”

He was too
dazed and stunned to respond, but he straightened his back against the wall,
something warm and overwhelming forcing its way through the pain in his chest.

She jerked to a
stop. Then turned around, as if his presence had finally registered. With a
sound like a sob, she ran over and sank onto her knees beside him. “Caleb, I’m
sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She was still
crying as she pulled him into a hug.

Caleb had no
idea what was going on, but he wasn’t going to question this blessing descending
on him unexpectedly. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her body against
his tightly, holding her as closely as he could.

The hug went on
for a long time, with neither of them speaking or pulling away. Her face was
buried in his shoulder, and his was buried in her soft hair. She clutched at
his back, and something about the frantic need in her arms, her fingers, healed
what had been shattered the moment before.

None of this
made any sense at all, but Caleb suddenly believed the world might be bearable.
He could find a way to accept never being able to make love to her, as long as
he still had her in his life.

As long as
this—Marissa both needy and needed in his arms—wasn’t taken away from him.