He doesn’t answer, and I feel my mood plummet slightly at his blatant disregard for me. After crawling onto my lap and pushing his nose against my neck.
But this is what I wanted.
I wanted space, and I got it.
Fuck.
I end up attempting to complete assignments in the peace and quiet of my apartment, but end up obsessively wondering where Caleb ended up.
Is he with someone else?
Someone who can give him what he wants?
That thought makes me ridiculously upset.
I find out a few hours later where he was this entire time when Caleb barrels into the apartment with Magnus slung over his shoulder.
Something akin to jealousy roars through me.
When he sees me staring at him, he happily says, “I made a new friend.”
He sets Magnus down on the floor, and thankfully, my friend appears to look ashamed—as he should. Caleb ismyroommate. Not his.
“Hi, Whit,” Magnus says softly, and I nod at him, afraid that if I open my mouth, I may say something I’ll regret. Something that will give away what I’m feeling.
I do, however, turn my gaze to Caleb and nod toward the bedroom. “I’d like to speak to you.”
He ignores me, though, and walks to the fridge, grabbing two beers from it. They clink as he makes his way back to Magnus. This is outrageous, seeing as it’s still the morning. He’s a heathen.
But he doesn’t seem to care. He hands a beer to Magnus, who obviously has no idea what to do with it. Caleb grins at him, flicks the capoff, and I watch as it falls to the floor. My eye twitches slightly as I tuck my hair behind my ear.
Caleb peers over at me, and something in my face has him letting out a sigh.
“Okay, Mag, just get a game started. I’ll be right back.” Magnus once more looks slightly unsure what to do, but sits on the couch and picks up a controller. Then Caleb moves toward me, and I see his gaze flick down to my lips for a moment. He has no right to look at me like that. Not when he showed up with Magnus—in our apartment.
My heart rate ratchets up as I turn and move toward the bedroom, my fingers tapping a nervous rhythm on my thighs. I don’t know what I’m about to say, or what will happen, but I’m exhausted, and something unsettling is unfurling in my gut.
Something that shouldn’t be there at all.
As soon as we’re away from prying eyes, Caleb holds up his beer bottle, and his thumb drags across the capped rim. I stare at it, knowing what he wants to do with it.
“If you drop that cap on the floor—” I hiss, and Caleb’s gaze flicks up to mine. Something swims in those depths, something I only dream about.
“You’ll what?” he asks, his voice dripping with curiosity.
My eyes narrow as he wets his pink, plump lips and twists it off. It dangles in his fingers, hovering over the floor.
I want to push him against the wall, spin him around, drag his pants down those thick thighs, and slap that ass. I want to teach him a fucking lesson. To stop messing up my apartment, my room, my mind.
I need some fucking peace.
That all must show on my face once more because he lets out a shaky breath and pockets the cap before I can act on my fantasy. Not that I would.
I fucking won’t.
Not with Magnus in the other room.
I clench my fists at my sides as I try to focus. I asked him in here for a reason.
