“I could get you something of mine? It’ll be too big but probably more comfortable,” he offers.
I hope my face doesn’t light up at that suggestion. “Sure.” I try to sound nonchalant.
He nods and loosens his tie. Don’t ask a woman to explain what is so sexy about that, but it is. I’m mesmerized by it, swallowing as he undoes the top button of his dress shirt and then slides his jacket off before striding down the hall to his room.
Does he have the heat on high in here?
I kick my shoes off next to the door and move into the kitchen while I wait. I send a quick text to my sister.
Malia
At Caleb’s house after the dinner to hang out!!!!
He’s getting me a hoodie of his to wear. *melting emoji*
Skye’s answer is a GIF of someone running around in excitement.
I set my phone down on the counter and turn on his oven for the pizza, then go to the freezer to grab one out. (There are three or four Vincenzo’s. This makes me giddy.) When Caleb returns a few minutes later, I’m already putting a pizza on the pan.
I turn to him and catch him staring. There have been moments tonight when I think it’s not just pretending. When he told his mom about why he finally asked me out, there was a sense of genuineness to what he was saying, and I even thought he might kiss me after he said it. The moment was tender and sweet, and it was hard to believe it was all pretend.
He shakes his head and holds out a pile of clothes. “My room is at the end of the hall.” He points. “I’ll get the pizza in when the oven is ready.”
I take the clothes from him—a pair of sweats with a drawstring, a T-shirt, and a hoodie. “So … why do you have Vincenzo’s pizza?” I can’t help but ask playfully. So many things point to the possibility that Caleb might like me, and this could be one.
He forces a laugh, and it’s cute. He’s embarrassed. “I don’t know. You mentioned it enough times that I bought one and tried it, I guess. Then I kept buying them because I liked them.”
“Theyaregood,” I agree, beaming at him. “Thanks for the clothes.” I hurry to his bedroom, because I want to miss as little time as possible with Caleb.
I’m going to ask him out next week, I say to myself.
I cinch up the sweats and roll the waistline a couple times, but the legs still pool around my feet. I notice that Caleb has also included a pair of socks as well, so I pull them on. The T-shirt is aLegend of Zeldashirt, and I grin at that as I pull it over my head.
But the hoodie is pure heaven. It smells like a lavender-scented detergent, but there’s also a faint Caleb smell to it. Either his body wash or cologne or deodorant or something. It’s a new scent for me, but one I’ve already memorized in the few hours we’ve spent together recently. I’msoglad we didn’t stop at my house.
CHAPTER 9
CALEB
I’m in the middle of lecturing myself on not making things weird with Malia by staring at her when she comes out of my room and tests all my strength. She is drowning in my sweats and one of my Houston Pumas hoodies. But it’s irresistible. I can’tnotstare.
I swallow, dismissing visions of snuggling together on my couch while we play. Of sliding my hand across her cheek, feeling her silky hair between my fingers…
“Over here,” I say, gesturing toward the bedroom I’ve turned into a game room. She passes by me as she walks into the room, and I subconsciously lean into her. She pauses, turning to look at me for a moment and then smirking.
Busted.
I try to clear my head of any more distracting thoughts. Asking Malia to be my girlfriend for the wedding was a big enough favor. I don’t need to keep overstepping boundaries with her. Almost kissing her at the dinner, pressing my face into the bare skin of her shoulder, ogling her wearing my clothes …
There’s a large, overstuffed sectional in one corner of the room, and Malia comes in and sits right in the corner of thecouch and smiles at the room. There’s a large TV mounted in the opposite corner from the couch, with a basic black TV stand underneath that holds my Xbox and Playstation. On the wall next to it is a desk, a computer, and three screens.
It hits me that Ivy never saw this room.
In the short time we dated, if we spent time at one of our apartments, it was Ivy’s. We hung out a few times at the guesthouse at Chad’s house while Carlie lived there. It feels so significant that Malia is here.
And that she’s smiling.
“I love it,” she says. She grabs a blanket from one end of the couch and pulls it over her lap. “My parents make fun of me for already being so acclimated to Texas after growing up in Idaho. They make fun of me every time I tell them I’m cold and it’s sixty degrees.”
