Despite that little quirk, he’s opening up more and more. Each day he tells me something he’s thinking or something he wants me to know about him. Usually, it’s the former rather than the latter. Still, knowing that he’s trying with me makes my heart constrict uncomfortably. I know how hard it is for him to make himself vulnerable to people.
But for some reason, with me, he’s making an effort.
I’m worth it.
That thought carries me through the next few weeks and pushes me through the times when he shuts me out. When he’s cold and quiet. When he’s tapping angrily on his phone and then disappears for a few hours to cool down.
I hate those moments. But he always comes back, pulling me into him and running those fingers all over me, pressing his lips to mine. It helps me forget, for a moment, how little I do know him.
“I have a debate this weekend,” he says, setting his Kindle down on the chair and looking at me. I’ve just returned home from the gym and need a shower, but he’s bombarded me with this little nugget.
“It’s out of town, so I’ll be gone until Sunday.”
My heart sinks. I’ve grown used to falling asleep next to him. And hate the fact that he’s not inviting me to come along. Not that we’re out. Not really. Everything we do is done in private, except for that one time at the aquarium.
“There’s nothing to be done about it, Caleb,” he says, reading my face, and I grab a beer from the fridge.
“Stop reading my face.”
“Stop being so easy to read then.”
I roll my eyes, popping the cap off the beer, and catch it before it clinks onto the ground. I toss it into the garbage and then take a seat on the couch.
“What am I supposed to do all weekend if you’re gone?”
Damn you. Invite me to come with you.
“Visit your family? Spend time with Mal?”
He grabs his Kindle and continues to read, brushing me off, and I narrow my eyes at him. He’s usually more attentive than this.
“Something’s up. What is it?” I ask, watching as he peers at me over his Kindle.
“Why do you ask?”
“You’re acting shady.”
He scoffs. “I don’t act shady.”
“Yeah, man. You do. You are right now. What don’t I know?”
He clears his throat, and he runs a hand through his hair. “Nothing important.”
“Whit…” I warn, and he looks back at the book in his hand.
“I’m staying with Magnus. We’re sharing a room.”
“That so?” I ask, my stomach clenching uncomfortably at that bit of info. Could have lived my entire life without knowing that, really.
Not that I don’t trust Whit, but despite everything that’s happened between us, we still haven’t defined what we are. Not sure we’re really a thing. We’re just messing around, I guess.
“Yes, but there’s nothing to worry about…not that I expect you to worry. I know this is just casual between us.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. “I would prefer it if you didn’t fuck him, Whit. Despite howcasualthis is.”
His cheeks flush, and he shakes his head. “I don’t plan on it.”
“Good.”