I sat in silence, wondering to myself—overthinking, actually—if Caleb had actually said that. Maybe I'd imagined it. His hands curled around the steering wheel, knuckles white with anger.
Okay, yeah. Maybe I imagined it. He doesn't exactly look flirty right now.
"Next time you try to lock someone out of their own car, make sure they don't have the app on their phone to unlock it from there."
I rolled my eyes and ignored his words, staring out the window instead. I likely looked pissed. And I was. But not because he picked me up and manhandled me into his car. If I'm being honest with myself, it was hot. And that was the problem. It was hot as hell. And now, in closer quarters than our other encounters hours prior, I had no escape. I was engulfed in his scent and heat, and my body was raging in a fire I couldn't find the will to extinguish—rather the opposite.
I clenched my hands in my lap to keep from touching him. I kept my eyes on the scenery we passed to keep from staring at the muscles I knew I'd see bunching under his suit with each small movement. To keep myself from watching his face furrow and crease in every emotion I never knew he was feeling.
In my head, I wondered if he'd speak of our tiff in my room, but I knew better. Or, rather, I should've known better. I sat, ignorant to the man I knew him to be, still hoping he'd prove me wrong and open up to me for once. Hoping he'd start a resolution for once in our lives. Just as I always had.
But I shook it off and reminded myself that he owed me nothing. We weren't together, which was just as painful of a reminder as thinking of the possibilities of where we could've been had we actually talked that day all those years ago.
The car came to a stop outside of the familiar bar.
"Here. Get out." When my offense must've showed clear on my face, Caleb spoke again. "So you don't have to walk much? I have to go park."
"Oh. Um, thanks. Wait, park? You're staying?"
When he growled and leaned across me to throw the door open without acknowledging my question, I stepped out, wincing when the pain returned the moment my foot hit the ground. When the sound of his car faded into the distance, I couldn't help but notice how he'd flipped from asshole to sweet in the quickest of blinks all day. It infuriated me.
Then again, I knew I did the same to him.
Good, I grinned to myself. Cocky fucker deserves a taste of his own medicine.
I turned and took a deep breath, jerking the door open. I heard my name called immediately.
"Rachel, over here!"
David stood by a bunch of tables jammed together to accommodate the group of professors sitting there. I couldn't help the laugh that raced from my throat at his overly welcoming attitude. He was like a Golden Retriever. It was cute to see someone so open with others. Refreshing. Warm.
"Everyone, this is Rachel Hall. She's the new Calc professor. Rachel Hall, this is everyone." David gestured around the table to nobody in particular.
I nodded with a smile. "Nice and easy name to remember for you guys. At least I won't forget even if I have one too many tonight. Hi, everyone."
I sat and ordered a glass of wine, needing it with the knowledge that Caleb would waltz in any second. And when an annoyingly familiar woman—the one from earlier—slid a chair over to the table as well, I craned my neck for the waiter and was excited to see him returning with my glass. I just wished it had been filled more.
"Anyone else think the new dean's a pompous asshole?"
David's question to the group caught me off guard, and unluckily for me, I'd just taken a sip of my wine. Sputtering against the influx of liquid that managed to go straight down the wrong tube, I coughed until I was slamming a hand against my chest to clear my airway. Eyes stared back at me, some of concern and others in confusion.
I cleared my throat a few times. "Sorry," I whispered.
"Weird. Anyway, he's not an asshole, David. He just doesn't like you. He's always been really nice to me."
The female voice was like nails on a chalkboard to my already-irritated self. When I glanced up from my glass, I was met with the makeup-caked face from earlier. I snorted a laugh that was meant to have been kept to myself, but I quickly realized it had been loud enough for the entire group to hear.
"Have you met him, newbie?" The dark-haired man that had invited David out for drinks this morning chimed in.
Mid sip of wine, I choked again, though it was less dramatic this time. "'Scuse me?"
"The dean. Did you meet him this morning?"
"Oh! Uh, yeah. I did."
David's eyebrow lifted a bit, but he stayed silent. His friend, however, didn't catch on. "And? How was he? Fine cause you're hot? Or—"
"Or what, Mr. Caldwell? Why is it that you lot seem to gossip like immature fucking teenagers?"
I sucked in a breath. Caleb's voice had appeared so close behind me that his breath was hot on my neck, and suddenly, the wine in my system was behaving more like whiskey. I stood quickly, knocking my chair back into him. When a grunt was forced from his lips, I bit back a smile in feeling like it was a slight win against the domineering attitude he was already putting off.
I waltzed past him and headed for the bathroom, needing the space to think for a moment. I'd had more excitement hit me in the events of the day than I had over the last nine years. I shoved the door open and strode to the sink, bracing my palms against the cool porcelain.
"What the fuck have you gotten yourself into? You should've stayed in New York, Rachel."
My phone buzzed in my bag, and I rolled my eyes when I checked it. Leah.
Bitchhhhh. I'm bored. Let's go out tonight! I need to get laid and so do you.
I didn't even bother responding. Being around men was the last thing I needed right now. Splashing water on my face, I wiped a cold paper towel on the back of my neck, taking one last look in the mirror and a deep breath to boot before heading back out. As soon as the door opened, it was shut firmly again. And I was trapped in the bathroom with my ex.
"Why are you here?"
I scoffed. Mainly because I didn't have an answer. "Excuse me?"
"Why are you here, Rachel? Back in California. Why?" Caleb repeated through gritted teeth. But then his eyes softened for a split second. "When?" I felt the bricks surrounding my heart try to crack, but then his eyes darkened again. "How long will you even be back for? Probably planning on leaving again, huh?"
"You know," I put a shoulder into his chest to force my way past. "You lost the right to ask me a goddamn thing when you fucked someone else the night before our wedding, Caleb. Go fuck yourself."
I'd just gotten my hand on the knob when his fingers curled around my elbow. It wasn't tight, but it was secure. And it stopped me in my tracks. I waited for him to speak, not even caring what words he'd say.
"Rachel—" he cut himself off.
Say something, I pleaded in my head. Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me it meant nothing all those years ago. Tell me not to go now. Tell me anything, so long as you say something.
But as always, he remained silent. And that was worse.
A saddened smile embraced my mouth. I forced it away, promising myself it would be the last of the night. I jerked my arm from his grip and pushed the door open, making a beeline for the half-empty Chardonnay still sitting on the table awaiting my lips. After I downed it in blatant disregard of the other professor's stares, I headed for the bar and opted for vodka shots instead. Rubbing alcohol disguised as liquor was a quick trip to turning my brain off. And I was in desperate need of that getaway.
_
I was drunk. And I was going to do something stupid.
Over at the table sat Caleb next to off-brand Barbie. Her hands were on her drink, but her teeth and claws were trying desperately to sink into him. Not that he seemed to notice because his eyes were narrowed daggers at David as he and his dark-haired friend, Alex Caldwell, sat staring at me. I felt them, but I didn't care. I was too busy trying to make sense of how the bitch knew Caleb, and then I was pretending I didn't know why I cared so much.
The bartender popped up in front of me with the latest shot. He gave a curt nod to someone behind me and threw the dish towel over his shoulder. When I downed the drink with greed, I grimaced at him. "Did you open a new bottle?"
"Yup. The other one is out. Why?"
I frowned and made a gagging face. "Throw it to the garage...no, that isn't right. The garage...The garbage? Yeah, that. Cause it tastes like water."
He chuckled at my slur of forced words and shook his head, clearing the glass from the bar's top. My head bobbed to the music beckoning me to the dance floor, and just as I was about to go out by myself, a pair of lips appeared next to my ear.
"Do you wanna dance?"
With warmth pooling in my stomach, I spun on my stool, though I was met with short disappointment. David stood before me with hope in his eyes and an outstretched hand. I glanced behind him to see Caleb's hands clenched into fists in his lap beneath the table, and as much as I shouldn't have, drunk me was a bitch.
I slapped my hand into David's and stumbled in tow to the dancefloor. Thanks to my liquored state, my ankles and toes were numb and forgotten. But my heart, however, was not. And it was ruling my decisions because my brain had left my skull after my third shot, and the bricks guarding my heart had been dismantled by the influx of alcohol.
David pulled me close to dance, but it wasn't enough. I spun and pressed my ass to his groin, swaying to the bass. I ran my fingers up the skin of my thighs to the smooth leather covering my hips. As my fingers trailed higher to my breasts, my eyes followed suit. When they landed on Caleb, he was holding a half-empty glass of what I knew was Jack Daniels. His fingers curled around it like a life depended on it, and I swore I saw the vein in his forehead tick with each furious beat of his heart.
Another song began to play overhead. It was sexier, more sensual. Erotic. And God help me, my body was reacting quicker than I could seem to care. I tilted my head to the side and lifted an arm to curve around David's neck, pulling slightly to invite him in. When I felt his lips curved into a smile as they descended onto my exposed skin, goosebumps raised on my arms. But not from him, rather the man's fiery stare that I knew would be watching.
I swayed my hips harder, pushing them further against the growing erection I felt beginning to press into the small of my back. When I dug my nails into the skin on the nape of David's neck, pulling him closer, he shuddered. I lifted my eyes to Caleb again, let my mouth pull up at the corner, and turned my head to the side just enough to press my lips to the blond's behind me.
David gripped onto me with wicked heat. One hand dug into my hip, the other on my neck. I let out a soft moan that was swallowed in his kiss, and still, I pushed harder. I bit his lower lip and smiled, knowing we were being watched. I was using him, and I knew it. The alcohol barreling through my system was heightening my arousal and lowering my morals. I was turned on, but for the wrong reasons. And when that reason moved in my peripheral vision, I realized he was heading straight for us.
And he was furious.