“Caleb!” I gasp through laughter, breathless, half-wheezing.

My skin burns where he touches, and not just from the sensation. There’s something deeper stirring now. Something dangerous.

I can’t breathe, can’t think. He’s everywhere.

His bare skin brushes mine as he leans closer, the warmth of his body pressing into me. I feel the strength in his thighs caging me in, the weight of him grounding me in place. My laughter fades into shallow, shaky breaths. My chest rises and falls rapidly. The air between us shifts.

Then, suddenly, it hits me like a punch to the gut.

A rush of memories slams into me, vivid like it was just yesterday.

I remember the way his jaw flexed as he kissed her. His hands were tight around her waist, pulling her in like he couldn’t get close enough.

My stomach flips. My chest tightens.

And I remember watching him—watching him, not her—completely fixated on the way his muscles tensed as he held her close. The way his lips moved against hers—slow, then deeper. The way his eyes opened and locked onto mine. As if it was some joke. As if he was sucking me in as he sucked down her kisses.

I should’ve looked away. I should’ve turned and left.

But I couldn’t.

Because in that moment, all I could think was how I wanted to be the one pulled in.

I wanted his hands on me.

“Stop. Get the fuck off of me!” I say it louder, firmer this time, batting his hands away with more force.

He freezes. “Shit. Sorry—”

“Just… shut up and order the food,” I say, getting up. “You’re paying.”

I escape to the bathroom and shut the door behind me.

Against the cool wooden door, I try to steady my breathing.

But it’s no use.

My shorts are tight. Too tight.

Shit.

11

caleb

"So, what's the game plan?" Nathaniel asks, sipping on his orange juice.

To say this is beyond weird would be an understatement. I’m almost certain he’s hated me for the past four years for “stealing” his girl, and yet here we are, sitting at a patio restaurant over breakfast, plotting ways to ambush said girl… together?

I lower my sunglasses to the bridge of my nose and sneer at him.

"If you think I'm about to tell you how to find my girl, you'd be wildly mistaken."

"Your girl?" Nathaniel laughs. "That's a very funny statement."

"Am I wrong?" I ask, casually sipping my espresso. "If we're looking at this logistically, it was only a week ago she was still calling me her boyfriend. So, if she’s anyone’s girl—I'm pretty sure she’s mine." I wink.

His jaw clenches. He shifts his gaze to the walkway, avoiding mine. The streets are packed. Vendors, dancers, drag queens, and rainbow flags paint the street in celebration. Everywhere you look, there’s something new to see. It’s vibrant and alive.

Honestly, I’m sort of kicking myself in the ass for never coming to this event till now. It’s pretty cool.