Toxic Bad Boy Part 16

He opened the pa.s.senger door, appearing patient in his wait for me to slip inside. I purposely took my time. As he went around the hood to get behind the wheel, I scanned the inside of his Camaro. It had been months since my last trip in the vehicle. Resisting the many memories trying to bombard my mind, I instead texted Cece, Jared and Gage all at once to let them know about the accident.

Cece texted back immediately, her fingers as fast as her mouth. Do you need me to do anything?

My phone beeped with another message as I replied to Cece. Everything is fine now. Could you or Jared pick me up from the hospital in an hour?

Gage's text said, Call me if you need to talk.

Jared's came a moment later. Cece said you needed a ride. Which hospital?

Caleb started the car, s.n.a.t.c.hing the phone from my grip. "What the heck?" I exclaimed. "Give it back!"

He shoved my cell into his left pocket. "I'm giving you a ride home."

"No, you're not," I told him firmly. "I'll call a taxi if I have to."

"I'll just steal your money," he said.

"This isn't the time for this," I told him.

He nodded slowly. "You're right. Better not argue with me about it because it'll upset our parents."

"I hate you."

He pulled into the drive-thru of a Jack in the Box. "I think you may be lying about that also."

I stared out my window, refusing to gaze at his gorgeous face. "Whatever. I want a hamburger, fries and strawberry milkshake." I added with satisfaction, "You're paying."

He huffed out a laugh and rolled down his window. "As if I'd let you pay."

After ordering, he adjusted to reach into his back pocket for his wallet. Something about the move was incredibly s.e.xy. The cas.h.i.+er handed him the drinks on a tray. He inserted a straw and took a sip from my milkshake before giving it to me.

I glared, causing him to chuckle. "Get your own."

"I love your milkshake," he rumbled suggestively.

He handed me the paper bag with our food and drove back to the hospital, parking in the same spot. I leapt out of the vehicle before he even had a chance to cut the engine, hoping to ditch him. He could take a different elevator.

No such luck. He caught up with me, carrying the drink tray and took the bag of food from me. I rammed my thumb against the up arrow b.u.t.ton, drinking from my milkshake with a scowl.

Caleb hadn't attempted to finish our earlier conversation and for some reason that p.i.s.sed me off. It was possible he'd liked the freedom of the past two weeks and had no intention of tying himself to a girlfriend again.

Which was exactly what I wanted, of course, for him to move on.

It was for the best.

Stomping out of the elevator, I thought about tomorrow instead of my ex-boyfriend. I'd stay with my mom and Chance for a few days to take care of them. After my mom was better, we could take turns caring for Chance until his leg healed. My dad would be happy for him to spend a few weeks this summer with us. It would give my mom the opportunity to figure out whatever drama was going on between her and Scott.

I almost tripped as an awful thought came to me. Holy c.r.a.p, if my mom and Scott hooked up, got married again, Caleb would be my stepbrother once more. I'd never escape him or my feelings.

How would I deal with years of having to face him at family functions? What about when he brought another girl home for the holidays someday? I would be like a freaking aunt to his children!

I would seriously move across the country. No, across an ocean! Europe or Australia or anywhere that was thousands upon thousands of miles away. I'd always wanted to live in London. But Australian guys had the hottest accents. I'd be perfectly happy in either place!

"What are you thinking about?" Caleb asked as he strolled next to me.

"Foreign accents," I ground out.

"You hate them?" he asked, likely confused by my angry demeanor.

"We're here," I announced, charging into room 214 ahead of him.

A nurse hovered over where my mom was still sleeping. If I had my phone, I'd check the timer. I was positive we were back early. Scott's head turned to me. "Six more minutes."

Caleb held out the drink tray for his dad to take one of the sodas. He then motioned for me to sit down in a chair by the window and pulled out a hamburger, even opening up the wrapper for me in my lap. My fries were set on the wrapper next to my hamburger.

"Thanks," I snapped ungratefully. I didn't want him being sweet. He could save it for that nameless girl who he'd bring home for the holidays.

I was sure Christmas in the English countryside was beautiful. I'd rent a cottage with friends who had cool British accents and it'd be freaking picturesque.

While we ate, the nurse said it was time to wake my mom. I s.h.i.+fted my food onto the chair as I got up. The nurse woke her and my mom drowsily opened her eyes.

"I'm here, mom." Tears formed and I fought to hold them back.

"Honey, don't cry," my mom whispered.

That was all it took for the salty floodgates to open. My upper body tilted forward to hug her and I cried out my relief. We may not get along or agree ninety-nine percent of the time, but I loved my mom. While her love was often misguided, I knew it existed.

"I was so worried your head was going to explode," I joked through my sobs.

She laughed softly. "The MRI came out okay. But my head is pounding so hard it feels like it'll burst."

When I straightened, I saw the nurse was gone but Caleb and his dad watched us. "Look, mom, Caleb is here to see you." Maybe she could drive him away.

Expecting her to grimace, her eyes instead searched the room to find him sitting in a chair next to his dad. "How are you, Caleb?"

His expression wary, he said, "Good. I'd ask how you are, but I already know."

"Are you hungry?" I asked my mom.

"No, just tired," she replied, closing her eyes.

I turned to Scott. "Is she allowed to sleep?"

"Yes, but the nurse will be back to wake her in an hour."

My mom cursed, surprising a laugh out of me.

"Okay, go back to sleep, mom. Scott is spending the night with you and I'll be back in the morning to see you and Chance."

"Your dad?" she asked.

"He's with Chance. I'm spending the night with Cece."

"Bye, honey," she mumbled.

I squeezed her limp hand. "Goodnight, mom."

I wrapped up my leftovers and tossed the crumpled ball into the trash can by the door. Scott pulled me into a hug as I reached him. "I'll watch over her."

"Thanks, Scott."

Caleb and I were in less of a hurry as we left the hospital. "Can you take me home so I can pack a bag and drive myself to Cece's?"

"Sure," he said, pointing his car toward the freeway.

"Can I have my phone back?" I asked.

"Nope."

"Jerk," I snapped, making him chuckle.

I used a hair tie to pull my hair back in a low ponytail and rolled down my window as we winded around downtown on the freeway. The summer evening air was refres.h.i.+ng. Caleb turned it to an alternative rock station and an upbeat indie pop song came on. The drive to my dad's house was short now that rush hour was over. The sun had set and the large buildings of the Denver Tech Center were aglow with what I figured were the night cleaning crews hard at work.

My dad's house had cost a mint, being so near the Tech Center in Englewood. They'd tried to replicate the DTC up north in Broomfield, close to my mom's house, but with the ups and downs of the economy it never took off. Living down here was much more chaotic.

Caleb pulled into our driveway, shutting off the engine. "I need my phone before you go."

Instead of giving it up, he opened his door, getting out and coming around my side. I stepped out of the car, holding a palm up for my cell. Deliberately ignoring my silent request, he took my hand in his. "I texted Cece while we ate, told her I'd spend the night with you at your house."

"What?"

He reached his free hand into my purse, pulling it out when he'd retrieved my keys. "There we go."

"You're not sleeping here."

He shot me a look I pretended not to understand. "We don't have to sleep."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

"If you love something let it go free. If it doesn't come back, you never had it. If it comes back, love it forever."

-Doug Horton CALEB.

Gianna's eyes were wild with what I identified as fear, but there was something else there, too. Excitement?

I ran a hand over the scruff on my jaw as I took a look around the bottom floor of Gianna's new home. "I'll have to borrow your dad's razor in the morning."

She followed me into the kitchen where I opened the fridge and took one of her dad's beers. Keeping my eyes on her, I drank from the bottle. My beautiful girl was on the other side of the granite bar, gripping the back of a fancy barstool. "Can I have my keys back, Caleb?"

"Nope." Like I'd be stupid enough to help along her escape plan.

She got bottled water from the fridge, gulping it down angrily. Some of it spilled out of the corner of her mouth, making me laugh. She slammed the half-empty plastic bottle on the counter. "I'm going to bed."

"Aren't you going to show me the guest room?" I asked, trailing her up the stairs. Her a.s.s in those jean shorts was criminal.

She stopped at the top, turning halfway. "Sleep on the couch in the bas.e.m.e.nt!"

My lips tipped up at her smart mouth. f.u.c.k, I missed that. "Do you need me far away so you'll keep your hands to yourself?"

Only Gianna sneering could be adorable. "You wis.h.!.+" Her boldness disappeared as she ran to her room and slammed it shut, locking it.

I stared at the white door and began laughing. Who did she think she was dealing with? As if that flimsy lock on the doork.n.o.b could keep me out.

Whistling loudly enough for her to hear, I opened the first door after hers. It was a bedroom filled with boxes, so I closed it to try the next, a closet. Across the hall from it was an open door showing a bathroom. At the end of the hallway the door opened to a s.p.a.cious master bedroom.

Her dad obviously favored the color green. I went into the walk-in closet and grabbed one of his belts from the row of hooks. Jeez, the man had dozens of ties alone.

Back at Gianna's door, I inserted the pointy part of the belt buckle into the tiny hole in the doork.n.o.b, pus.h.i.+ng away the dirty metaphor which came to mind.

As I rattled it, waiting for a click, Gianna yelled from the other side, "Don't you dare, Caleb!" The eventual clicking sound coincided with my name.

Her room was decorated in yellows and blues. It was obviously the room of the princess of the house with the fancy-a.s.s furniture, a canopy bed and set of ornate dressers and night stands. She sat cross-legged in the middle of her enormous bed, her expression supremely unhappy.

"Where's Chance's room?" I asked.

Her face relaxed marginally at the mention of her brother. "Down the opposite hallway."

My eyebrows shot up. "Your dad makes good money cutting up peoples' bodies, huh?"

Blue eyes narrowed. "He has a trust fund."

Wow, no wonder Julie got knocked up in high school. She'd made bank out of the divorce from my dad, also. A thought struck me. "Do you have one?"

"A trust fund?" she asked warily.

"Yeah."

"Yes, a smaller one, but I don't get it until I'm twenty-eight. Too bad, it could've come in handy when I move to Australia next year."

I sat on the bed, causing her to edge away. "We're moving to Australia?"