Maybe it would always be that way with Caleb. He will never reveal his true self to me. There will always be something he’s hiding. Not like some big creepy secret. I don’t worry about that. More like he keeps certain pieces of himself private. Never to be glimpsed by someone unless they’re important to him.
Huh. Maybe I need to realize I’m just not that important to him. And it’s probably best if I leave well enough alone.
Seven
Caleb
Time has just flown by since the night of the kiss with Gracie. It’s 4th of July weekend and work is a madhouse. Besides renting out boats and jet skis, Mitchell’s Landing also has a bunch of cabins they rent out to tourists. Those cabins are booked usually all summer long, and during the 4th of July, they’re booked out a year in advance. It’s insane. All the locals and the tourists come out to the lake, and the road is packed with cars, the lakeshore crowded with people. Once the sun is fully down, there’s the fireworks show. It’s usually pretty awesome, but right now I’m distracted as fuck.
I can’t stop thinking about Gracie. Gracie who likes it best when a guy sucks her clit and finger fucks her at the same time. Gracie who made out with her best friend on a dare. Gracie who kissed me and tasted like lime and sweetness and sin. Gracie who stared at me while she was drunk and told me I was pretty.
She’s the one who’s pretty. She’s the one who I now envision kneeling before me, her mouth full of dick. My dick. And she’s loving every second of it as she sucks me off.
That particular fantasy has run through my brain on a constant loop since that night. We never did admit how many sexual partners we’ve had to each other, and maybe that’s for the best. She got too distracted by me saying I didn’t like kissing women, which I suppose is a pretty bold statement.
It’s not that I don’t like it—kissing is fucking awesome, ain’t gonna lie. But kissing is also dangerous. You smooch a woman a couple of ti
mes, and it’s so damn intimate. Next thing you know, they’re coming up with our future kids’ names and they’re telling me what to do. Who I can be friends with, and who I can’t hang out with anymore. They try to run my life and manage my schedule when all I did was fuck them a couple of times.
That’s why I avoid kissing at all costs. Even with Baylee at the end, I wouldn’t do it. I didn’t want to send her mixed signals. I sent her enough already, I didn’t need to muddle up what we were doing any more than I already had.
Kissing Gracie was a fucking mistake though, because now I can’t get the taste of her out of my mouth or head. I crave it. I crave her.
She’s pissed at me.
Not like stomping around, fight me pissed like usual. It’s a quiet anger, simmering just beneath the surface. We’re polite to each other. We still ride up together to work on occasion, like today, which was born out of necessity since it’s crowded and why fight for two parking spaces. She’s the one who drove this time while I sat in the passenger seat, feeling helpless. Feeling stupid. At a loss. Wishing I could say something, anything to her to make her hear me out and realize where I’m coming from.
The problem? I have no idea where I’m coming from. I don’t know what I want. From myself, from her, from the two of us together. I want more from Gracie, what else is new, but now it’s forefront in my mind. I’ve kissed her. Touched her. And as usual, she hates me.
Instead of trying to talk to her, I put my AirPods in and put on some banger music that allows me to work out some of my frustration, but not enough.
I was going to talk to Eli about my issues, but before I got the chance, he planned a spontaneous trip to the beach with Ava and they took off a couple of days ago. Tony’s in the Bay Area with Hayden. Diego and Jocelyn are hanging out with Jocelyn’s family for the day and they’ll be around for the fireworks tonight, though I doubt I’ll get a chance to see them, it’ll be so crowded. Their daughter, Gigi, can’t handle the fireworks. She screams and cries every time, so she’s staying home with her grandparents.
Here I am all alone, trying to figure this shit out with Gracie— while she’s still mad at me, barely looking at me, barely even talking to me.
It sucks.
We’re busy all afternoon, helping people out with their rentals, assisting them with launching their boats into the lake. We’ve gone out throughout the day and rescued a couple of boats. One of our patio boats stalled out. A couple of jet skis ran out of gas. Some old guy steered his fishing boat right into the rocks.
Typical busy day.
Gracie spends most of it in the office, helping out customers. They wait in line to talk to her, full of questions and concerns, needing help with this, that and the other. All the while, she keeps her cool and does what she can with a smile on her face, looking patriotic as fuck with her red Mitchell’s Landing T-shirt, the white shorts that make her legs look extra-long and her hair pulled back into a high ponytail with a navy blue and white star spangled scrunchie.
I stare at her as she walks by, my gaze glued to her tanned legs. They’re golden brown and I bet they’d be smooth to the touch. I remember her tangy sweet lips and when my gaze finds her mouth, it’s formed into a firm line. Almost a frown.
As in, she’s caught me staring and she’s currently giving me icicle vibes.
“I need to get laid,” I tell no one in particular once she’s out of earshot.
“There are about six girls up in the restaurant right now who would take you up on that offer,” my coworker Aidan says. The guy is nineteen, and went to the same high school as I did. He’s cool. A complete horn dog, so we have that in common.
“I don’t fuck where I eat,” I tell him, making him laugh.
“I thought you and Gracie had a thing going. That’s what Noelle said,” Aidan tells me.
“I told her that to get her off my back,” I admit. “Gracie is just a friend.”
“She’s a fucking hottie.” We both swivel our heads at the same time to watch her enter the dock office. “I’d totally hit that.”