“Yeah,” I answered, even though there was still a part of me that wanted to reach across the bed and ask him to stay. I squashed that part, reminding myself exactly why that was a bad idea. Plus, I didn’t really know Caleb. Not well enough to feel any real kind of attachment.
Liar.
The ache in my chest as he got out of bed and began to dress was entirely misplaced and it was making me angry.
He finally looked at me once he was done lacing his boots. His expression revealed nothing of his emotions. “I’ll call you, then, when I visit again?”
“Sure. I’d like that.”
Caleb suddenly frowned, hesitating, seeming almost unsure. Then finally he bent over, putting his hands to the mattress, and he kissed me. It was soft, sweet. Filled with affection.
And I had to force away the sudden burn of tears in the back of my eyes.
He brushed his mouth over mine one last time and then pulled back to stare into my eyes. I couldn’t read his searching gaze, enigmatic as always. I did my best to keep my expression neutral.
“Good-bye, Ava,” he said, his voice low and hoarse.
Once more I fought those goddamn tears, masking them with a smile I hoped was both cheeky and affectionate. “Bye, my Bastard Scot.”
He grinned, kissed the tip of my nose, and pushed away from the bed. I made to move, to see him out, but he waved me back down. “Stay. Sleep. You’re up early.”
Thinking he was probably right, I lowered my back to the bed. “Safe travels.”
He nodded, reached down to switch off my bedside lamp, and then I watched the shadow of his figure leave my bedroom.
There was a minute of no noise and then I heard my apartment door shut with a loud click that told me he’d put the lock (or the snib, as he so cutely called it) on.
I tried to sleep knowing it was too early to get up.
However, my mind wouldn’t let me. Instead it just kept replaying every moment with Caleb Scott over and over again. Every kiss, every wicked smile, and the fierce tenderness in his gaze when I told him about Nick and Gem.
Even though I felt betrayed by the tears, like my heart was a traitor to my mind, I couldn’t stop myself from crying. That night my heart won a battle.
But when my alarm went off and I got up to get ready for my trip to Nantucket, my mind sought control again and was triumphant.
Caleb Scott was just a fun memory and he’d remain that way. There was no way I would make our dalliance out to be more than it was. Resolved, ignoring the disquiet and unease that sat in the pit of my stomach, I strolled out into my living area to make coffee and was startled at the sight of what had been placed next to the coffee machine.
There was a velvet box sitting next to it, along with a note. My hands shook as I reached for the note first.
In Caleb’s big, masculine scrawl were the words:
You deserve only good memories. Caleb.
Heart pounding, I dropped the note and picked up the velvet box. Prying it open, I let out a little gasp at the item that sparkled and winked under my kitchen lights. Lying on black velvet was the most beautiful diamond tennis bracelet. The one Nick had given me was demure, the diamonds small in a traditional square-cut claw. Caleb’s platinum tennis bracelet was more modern, with larger round-cut diamonds. Okay, wow.
I could barely breathe, I was so overwhelmed by the gift. I picked up his note again.
You deserve only good memories. Caleb.
I couldn’t believe he remembered the detail about that damn tennis bracelet. It was so thoughtful. So romantic.
So not what we were.
It didn’t make sense.
I turned, slumping back against my counter as I tried to interpret what the gift meant.
And then something horrible occurred to me.
What if this was like … payment? What if Caleb was basically saying, Hey, thanks for the great sex—have some diamonds on me? I glowered down at the bracelet. That bastard.
“Argh.” I huffed. That didn’t seem like Caleb either.
“… I genuinely like you, and I dinnae mind us having a friendship between us if you dinnae. As long as we both know that is all this is.”
The memory of his words came flooding back.
“… when we talked about being friends, we both meant that too. We can handle it. So I made up my mind that you’re my friend, Ava. And I’m worried about my friend.”
I was Caleb’s friend. He really meant that. I looked down at the bracelet and decided that was what I’d see in this expensive gift. A friend giving me something beautiful to replace a bad memory.
And just like that, my mind had to battle harder than ever to win the war my heart wanted to wage.
“Babe. Ava, babe.” Harper shoved me suddenly and I had to grip on to the bar in front of me to keep myself on the stool.
I shot her a dirty look and she returned it with a worried one of her own. “The guy has been asking you for your order for about five minutes.” She gestured in front of us, where a bartender stood, staring back at me in what I could only guess was impatient amusement. “Well?”
“You could have ordered for me.” I turned to the bartender. “Clam chowder, please.”
He disappeared, leaving us to sit in silence, surrounded by the noisy chatter of the crowded bar.
“It was the accent, wasn’t it?” Harper said. “Made you think of him.”
I glanced down at the bracelet on my wrist. “It’s bound to, right?” I shrugged, like it was no big deal.
“Sure, of course. But I don’t think it’s the first time you’ve thought of the guy in the six weeks since he left. I pretty much know you’re thinking about him all the time.”
My eyebrows drew together. “Not all the time. And when I do, it’s just because I miss the sex.”
“Why are you lying to yourself?”
We stared at each other, my best friend’s expression fierce with irritation. I studied her face and saw the one person—other than my uncle—who I could trust. “Because … I don’t want to get hurt again.”
Harper took a minute to process that, and then her gaze softened with understanding. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
I reached over and squeezed her hand in gratitude and then let it go to mutter sardonically, “So how ’bout them Red Sox?”
She chuckled and nudged me with her shoulder. “I have a better awkward-conversation breaker than that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I’m thinking about breaking up with Vince.”
I let out a little sound of surprise and Harper gave me a wobbly smile. “I think he’s taking drugs.”
“Oh no.”
“I’m not one hundred percent sure, because I know he’s never high when he’s with me. That’s a fact. I know what high looks like. But I know his band members are into recreational drug use and he acts cagey sometimes, like he’s hiding something. I can’t put up with that crap, Ava.” She shook her head, and I saw tears glisten in her eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Harper.”
She laughed but the sound was hollow. “I knew it was too good to be true.”
“You don’t know for sure, though, right?”
“I’m confronting him tonight. I can tell when someone is lying, so one way or another I’ll know the truth.”
“Why didn’t you say anything about this sooner?”
“I was … I’m irritated that I’ve fallen for a guy who, if my suspicions prove correct, is not at all who I thought he was. I’m pissed that I’ve told him things about myself—personal, private things. And I’m … ashamed that I really, really want to wish the truth away and bury my head in the sand.” She stared at the bar counter, her jaw locked with gritted teeth as she refused to meet my eyes.
“Hey.” I placed a comforting hand on her small shoulder. “One, you don’t know it’s the truth just yet. And two, even if it is, you have nothing to be ashamed of. We can’t help who we fall for, but we are in control of our actions. Don’t blame yourself for caring about Vince, Harp. He’s not a bad guy. But if he’s taking drugs, he’s a good guy into bad things, and you know what you need to do in that situation.”
She covered my hand with hers and looked up at me, tears in her beautiful gray-blue eyes. “You won’t judge me for being a typical girl with a broken heart?”
“You already know the answer to that.”
Her lips trembled. “I really, really want to be wrong.”