I’m about two hours in, the cake in the oven, the frosting whipping in the mixer, when I hear the toilet flush. I have no idea why, but I almost scream out loud, a jolt of nervous excitement shooting through me as I look around the messy kitchen. I thought I’d have at least another hour or two before he got up, but it looks like he’s up now.
“Morning, Ruby,” Caleb says, my back to him as I wash my hands at the sink. I turn around to find him rubbing at his eyes, his brown hair a tousled mess, his chest bare and somehow he can make just waking up look like the sexiest thing in the world.
“Good morning birthday boy!” I call out, turning the mixer off.
“What is this?” he now asks, a mischievous smile on his face, knowing exactly what’s going on.
“What?” I ask back playfully.
“Come here.” His words are low, his eyes tipped down as he looks at me and hooks a finger in my direction, calling me over to where he’s standing.
When I’m close enough, he reaches out, his fingertips tucking into the waistband of my running shorts as he tugs me nearer. The space between us is nearly immeasurable and he looks down at me with hooded eyes, a tension passing between us that has been here since he kissed me on Monday. We’ve stayed away from anything that would put us in a situation where we could be tempted to do it again. But right now, in this kitchen, alone and breathless and needy, I’m not sure if I can stop myself if he kisses me again.
“You have chocolate frosting on your face,” he murmurs and before I can figure out where, he leans down, taking my chin in his hand, he angles my face so I’m looking up at him. My heart is hammering in my chest, calling out, and begging him to just kiss me. Standing this close to him, remembering what it was like to feel his lips against mine, our tongues entwined, my body desperate and wanting him.
Just fucking kiss me!
The pad of his thumb presses firmly against my bottom lip, swiping to the side as he removes the chocolate frosting and sucks his thumb into his mouth. “Tastes like my grandma’s frosting,” he says, smiling at me with a knowing look in his eyes.
“Wait a minute! Did Sienna tell you?” I demand, pushing my lip out in a pout, my hands resting on his firm, bare chest. She better not have ruined my surprise.
“Maybe she mentioned it, but only about the cake,” he says quickly as he now steps even closer, his hand wrapping around my neck, his forehead resting against mine.
He pulls in a hard breath, the closeness of his body sucks the air from my lungs and I struggle to breathe, struggle to keep myself standing, but more than that I’m struggling to keep my hands off him.
There’s a connection between us, built off trust and understanding and compassion, a link that makes being apart far more difficult than I ever thought. I hate to think it given what Caleb has been through, but without what happened in Providence, we wouldn’t be standing here today.
“Don’t be mad, Ruby,” he whispers, his mouth against my ear, tickling the sensitive spot on my neck, goosebumps rising on my skin. “Thank you. This is…” He stops, his lips resting against the hard pulse in my neck, kissing softly. “This is perfect. You’re perfect.”
I have to move away from him or I’m never going to be able to stop myself. I’m growing tired of this, all this push and pull, but he needs to be the one to make the first move. He needs to be the one to tell me it’s okay to get involved with him, for us to cross this line we’ve been so expertly teetering on the edge of.
“I bought cinnamon rolls and made coffee,” I spit out awkwardly and his face shows just how weird the shift in conversation is. He laughs a little, shaking his head. Maybe he thinks he’s being obvious, and I don’t think I’ve hidden the fact that I want him very well, but I just need him to come right out and say it. There will be nothing dubious or confusing about it, nothing that will one day come back to haunt us given how he’s still learning to navigate his life now.
If he wants to take this whole thing further, if he wants me, then he’s going to have to use those exact words. No more of this teasing.
“Well, then I guess we eat birthday cinnamon rolls,” he now says, walking over to the kitchen table. “Guess this one’s my chair?” He tries to make his question sound serious, but it just comes out playfully as he motions to the balloons I’ve tied to the chair.
“Yes, that’s your chair, obviously.” I can’t help but tease him back, knowing how absolutely cheesy it is that I tied balloons to his chair. We’re twenty-two years old, but he missed out on so much as a kid. He can’t tell me he isn’t enjoying this already because the smile that stretches across his face gives him away. He’s beaming, bold and natural, his eyes wrinkling up in the corners, the dimple in his cheek more pronounced.
I bring him over his coffee and cinnamon roll, sitting down across from him. The cake is cooling on the counter, the frosting now in the fridge until I can get to it.
“So this is what it feels like to celebrate a birthday as an adult, huh?” he asks, taking a bite of his cinnamon roll. I watch his face, his eyes seem more blue than normal today, his face more relaxed, even his posture is less defensive, his shoulders loose.
“Twenty-two looks good on you, Caleb Parker,” I tell him as he looks up at me and nods slightly.
“Maybe California looks good on me, leaving Providence. Maybe it’s you who looks good on me.”
There he is again with the flirty words, the insinuation, and while it’s fun as hell, it’s still just that, fun. No real words of, “Ruby, I want you”.
“Maybe we just look good on each other,” I respond back, shooting him a sly smile, and while I do want him to come right out and say it, I can’t deny that I love this banter we have going. It’s really been some epic foreplay.
“You’ve always looked good, Ruby.”
“And so have you, Caleb,” I announce winking at him as I brush my foot against his bare leg.
We spend the day at Manhattan Beach, eating tacos from a truck and basking in the sun that we both know will soon disappear in the next few weeks as winter approaches. The sun is just beginning to set and Caleb leans back on our blanket, resting on his elbows.
“Mind if we stay and watch the sunset?” he asks and I can’t help but grin as if he can read my thoughts.
“That’s exactly what I planned to do. A little birdy told me you like to watch the sunset,” I tease, letting my head fall to his shoulder.
“You’ve done your research,” he replies, kissing the top of my head.
“This is just the start. We still have cake at home and I have a few other tricks up my sleeve.”
“Seriously? I feel like you’ve nailed the entire day already. The beach, tacos, the sunset and a beautiful girl. It’s all good for my soul.”
He’s right; it does feel like he needed this, that he needed to feel normal again. Being able to be out and relaxed is something I haven’t seen in him since he arrived. There’s always been an unease about him, a worry that makes him look over his shoulder, and today that is gone and left in its place is an air of confidence he’s never had before. His head is held higher and he looks around taking in the beauty of the beach as he breathes softly next to me.