Wrecked (Dirty Air 3)

If Caleb has any idea about the hereditary risk Mum’s illness poses for me, he doesn’t reveal it. And for that I’m grateful.

Sharing this small part of myself with Caleb feels like progress. Hell, spending a weekend with Caleb has challenged some of my own thoughts and beliefs about living with a terminal illness. The way he views life despite knowing he has cancer makes my anxiety seem unjustified. I want to be fearless like him. What if I was always meant to spend time with someone like Caleb and see life from a different perspective?

Maybe fate isn’t always a ruthless fucker after all.

“So, Elena. Tell me what it would take for you to go on a date with me?” Caleb sits down next to Elena on my living room couch.

A wave of possessiveness hits me out of nowhere. “Besides you needing to be the legal age limit?”

“Ouch, mate. Age is only a number.”

I cock a brow at him. “That’s what they all say before jail.”

Elena hides her laugh behind her palm.

“Come on, what do you say about dinner?” Caleb waggles his brows at her.

Elena shakes her head.

“We’ll both take you out to dinner,” I blurt out.

Caleb squints at me, clearly unhappy. “We?”

“We will invite Elena to dinner.”

“Dude, really? Way to steal my thunder.”

“Better than getting rejected.”

Caleb shrugs, giving in. “Okay, I’m sold. Elena, put on your nicest dress and jewelry.”

“Dates usually have to say yes first.” I look at Elena, daring her to say no.

Caleb kneels down in front of her. “Please, Elena Gonzalez of Mexico City, will you offer me the luxury of taking you out on a date. Preferably on Kingston’s dime because I’m capped out on my monthly allowance after buying a new pair of

Yeezys.”

Elena laughs as Caleb clutches onto her hand and kisses it. “Sure. Anything for you.”

I wish Caleb could go screw off somewhere while I take Elena out by myself. Seeing as the likelihood of her saying yes to a date with me is zero to none, I push aside the desire.

I’m good at denying myself what I want. And with Elena, I want more. And fuck if that isn’t the most troubling thought of all.

Caleb wasn’t joking when he asked us to get dressed up. He shows up an hour later dressed in a suit and a bowtie.

I stare at him incredulously. “Did you seriously pack that in your bag?”

“Of course. A gentleman never knows when he needs a suit.”

“Are you sure you’re from this century?”

The clicking of heels draws our attention toward the top of the stairs.

Elena grabs onto the hem of her green dress. She makes her way down the stairs, material clinging to her curves in the best kind of way. The mouth-watering, dick-pulsing, I’d do anything to fuck her kind of way.

I cough and elbow Caleb. “Tell her how pretty she looks.”

He rolls his eyes at me. “Amateur. I’ll do you one better.” He steps behind the couch and pulls out a set of a dozen long-stemmed roses.