When he stepped around the counter, I moved a step back and yelled, “Stay away from me!” At least he was wearing sweatpants.
He frowned, holding his hands up. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
My eyes frantically searched for a weapon nearby, in case he decided to attack me. I could grab one of the pans on the hanging pot rack if needed.
“Why am I here?”
“You don’t remember?”
I had a sudden urge to pull my hair. “Remember what?”
His face darkened. “Some pervert nearly attacked you last night. I saved you.” He shook his head. “He could have raped you.”
My head started to throb. Memories from last night were starting to come back.
“And you threw up all over my car.” He paused. “Twice.”
“R-raped me?” I vaguely remembered resisting a guy’s advances. What if it was him?
Caleb nodded, staring at me intently. The way his green eyes bored into me triggered a memory. A low, masculine voice murmuring, I’ve been looking for you my whole life…
I shook my head to clear it and glared at him. “How do I know you’re not that guy?”
“Oh please,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I don’t have to force a girl to sleep with me.”
He stepped back, leaned against a butcher block behind him, and crossed his arms against his impressive chest, studying me with his head tilted to the side. The muscles in his arms flexed.
“Thank you,” I said quietly, but I was still suspicious. Growing up in a rough area meant suspicion came naturally to me. “I don’t remember much from last night.”
“You were drunk,” he stated.
“I think I remember that part.”
“And you’re not hungover?”
I shook my head.
“Amazing,” he said, sounding impressed.
“Look, if you don’t mind giving my shoes back, I can get out of your way.” I assumed he knew where they were. I didn’t find them in the bedroom.
“Not so fast.”
“What?” My eyes shot to an espresso machine sitting on the counter five feet away. I could use that in case he decided to grab me. Could I lift it?
“You threw up all over my car, and I just got it a few weeks ago.”
Oh. I bit my lip. “Isn’t your dad rich?” I gestured uselessly at the luxury surrounding us. “Can’t you just have somebody clean it for you?”
His eyebrows shot up. “So you’re going to have someone else clean up your mess?”
I clenched my teeth. “What do you want from me?”
Leaning back, he pulled himself up to sit on the butcher block, his glorious body on uninterrupted display. I gulped.
“Do you have anywhere to go when you leave?” There was a basket filled with apples beside him. He reached for one. How fortunate he was to reach for food whenever he wanted. He didn’t have to fear being hungry…or homeless.
“What kind of question is that? I’m going home.” I had no clue where home was, but he didn’t know that.