Chance Page 7

  I'm not a theatre buff. I don't line up to grab tickets when a new play or musical opens. I've been to two Broadway shows in the past six months and both of those have been with Ivy. Libby Duncan was the star of one of them and after the performance I watched as Ivy warmly embraced her. They're friends and I'm guessing that's how Graham got the upper hand in landing that sought after job.

  "Ivy took me to see her in that new musical," I begin before I realize I can't remember the name of the production. "She was incredible. She's really talented."

  "She's the best." He lifts his wine glass in the air. "It's a grueling job but I'm up for the challenge considering I get to watch her perform in eight shows every week."

  I can't help but smile. This is the first time I've seen any excitement on Graham's face since he moved in with me. "It sounds like it's going to be a blast."

  "The job comes with a shitload of perks." He scratches his chin. "The salary is insane too."

  I'm genuinely happy for him. He's been through the emotional wringer this past year and if anyone deserves to find happiness, it's Graham. "You're not going to forget about me now that you'll be hanging out with Broadway folks, will you?"

  "I'm right there whenever you need me, Row." He reaches across the table to pat the top of my hand. "If you call, I'll come running."

  ***

  I adjust the pillows behind my head as I try to type out a text message to Asher while I'm on my side in my bed.

  I'm getting worried. Call or text. Please.

  I stare at the phone for what feels like ten minutes waiting for a response. I get absolutely nothing back in return. I slide my thumb over the screen. I open the clock app and then wince when I realize the current time in Brussels. If Asher has already made his way over there, he's fast asleep at this point. Badgering him with another call or another text won't help the situation. I know that he'll call when he's ready and until then, I have to stay clear minded and focused on my life.

  I close the app and open my messages back up again. I reread the one I received earlier from Tyler Monroe, the man Ivy's intent on setting me up with. It's nothing more than a cordial greeting asking how I am. I start to type a response before I delete it.

  My heart may be ready to venture out into the world again, but my mind isn't. I'm too tired to start up a text conversation with a potential date. I need rest and the only way I'm going to find that is if I shut off my mind, put my phone on the bedside table and drift off into a deep sleep.

  Chapter 17

  I'm startled awake by a series of loud thumps. I reach for my phone wondering if I somehow managed to change the ring tone on it again. I scan the screen and see absolutely nothing other than that it's barely past seven in the morning.

  It's Saturday. I don't jump from my bed as soon as the sun rises once the weekend arrives. I take my time getting my day started. I lounge in bed, sometimes reading the news on my tablet before I even think about what I want to have for breakfast. If I make it into the shower by noon, I know I'm on track for a good day. If I've had a bad week, I may hide between my sheets for the entire day, ordering in food and watching movies. Today, I need to stop by the office, so I should be thanking whatever the hell that noise was that jarred me from my dreams of a tropical island and a shirtless man bringing me an endless supply of petty drinks with umbrellas.

  The thumps are there again and I realize they're coming from my apartment door. I close my eyes hoping that Graham heard it first and he's at the door, chasing away whoever thinks it's acceptable to bang on a door this early in the day.

  He's not and the next louder, and more persistence, knocks are proof of that. I pull a white tank top over my head and a slip into a pair of white lace panties. I have no intention of opening the door. It's thin enough that I can carry on a conversation with whoever is on the other side. All I really need to do is tell them to scram. I'm still sleepy and craving the comfort of my bed, so I'm going to make short work of this distraction.

  "What is it?" I call through the crack between the door and the doorjamb. "Who is there?"

  "It's me." His voice is low and quiet. "Open the door."

  I peer through the cracked glass peek hole in the door. It's Caleb. His hands are resting on the door. His shirt is a twisted and he hasn't shaved in days. He looks like hell. My hand hovers over the doorknob.

  "What do you want, Caleb?" I volley back hoping that I won't have to talk face-to-face to him right now. "You woke me up."

  "Bell." His voice cracks slightly. "God, I need to talk to you. Please just open it."

  My breath catches at the sound of my nickname. I haven't heard it flow from his lips in years. I doubt that his voice had even gone through its adolescent change when he last said it. My lips quiver as I answer back. "What's wrong?"

  "Open the door." He taps his hand softly against the wood. "Open the fucking door. Please, just do it."

  I reach down and twist the deadbolt lock so it pops open. I grasp the door handle before I turn it, pulling the door open.

  I have no time to react before he slides into my apartment, yanks me into his arms and pulls me tightly into his chest.

  "Caleb," I whisper into the fabric of his blue dress shirt. "What? What is it?"

  He doesn't answer. His body only jerks slightly as he works to control his emotions. I try to break free to look at his face but he molds my body into his.

  "Just tell me," I say calmly even though my heart is racing. "I can help if you tell me."

  His body tenses slightly before he grabs my shoulders and pushes himself back. I close my eyes briefly before I look up into his.

  "Bell." His voice lowers as he brushes his lips against my forehead. "Christ, please."

  "What?" My bottom lip trembles. "Just say it."

  "It's Asher." His eyes fill with tears. "I'm so sorry."

  A slow realization pours through me and I feel one solitary tear fall down my cheek. "What about him? He's in Brussels with your mom. He told me he was going there."

  "No," he says through a sob.

  "No?" I try to break free of his grasp. I pull him so far forward that he reaches back to slam my apartment door closed with his foot.

  "He's not in Brussels." His grip tightens on my arm. "He never went there. I've been trying to find him for days."

  "Where is he?" I point towards the window. "We can go find him."

  "We can't." His hand leaves my shoulder and jumps to his chest. "He's gone, Bell."

  "No," I say louder. "He's not. Don't say that."

  "It's the truth." He swallows hard as he says the words. "They found a body this morning in a hotel on the lower East Side. There were drugs in the room."

  "No," I scream the word so loud that it bounces off the walls of the almost barren apartment. "No."

  "I have to go identify him." His eyes close. "I need you to come with me. Please, Rowan, come with me."

  I lean forward to rest my head on his chin as I nod slowly. "I'll go. I know it's not him. Asher wouldn't do this to us. You'll see."

  Chapter 18

  We haven't spoken a word to each other since we left the morgue. We also haven't let go of one another's hands since the stretcher with the body was brought towards us. When the woman in charge pulled down the sheet, Caleb had gasped. I'd stood next to him stoic and silent.

  "I don't want to go home," he says as much to me as to the driver of the car. He'd called one of the company's drivers into action when the police had called him. "Take us back to Rowan's apartment."

  My eyes fall to my lap to where our hands are still tightly woven together. I'm grateful that he's not dumping me back at my place before he goes to shelter himself in his own apartment.

  I hold tight to his hand when the driver opens the back door of the car. I allow Caleb to help me out and I lean into his body as we move silently through the lobby of my building and into the elevator.

  "Can I stay all day?" The words come out in a low growl. "I want to stay all day."


  I nod against his chest, closing my eyes briefly to try to find the strength I'll need to walk from the bank of elevators to my apartment door.

  "Is your roommate home?" He fumbles with my keys as we step off the lift.

  I pull on the sleeve of his shirt, wanting him to raise his arm. He acquiesces and I twist it around so I can look at the watch. "He meets a friend for coffee on Saturday mornings. He's gone by now."

  He opens the door before pushing it open. He holds my hand as he pulls me inside.

  "Do you want some coffee?" I glance towards the small galley kitchen. "We have coffee. I can make some."

  "I want to go to bed." He finally drops my hand as his fingers fly to the buttons of his shirt. "I need to close my eyes."

  I nod silently as I turn towards the hallway. "You can rest in my bed. I'll show you."

  "Come with me, Bell." He wraps his arm around my waist. "Lay with me."

  I don't respond. I rest my hands over his arm, step forward and lead him into my bedroom before I shut the door behind us.

  ***

  "I fell asleep." His breath is against my cheek. "How long have I been sleeping?"

  I glance at my phone. I've been holding tightly to it since I laid next to Caleb after he slid his shirt from his shoulders and fell into my bed. I'd watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he drifted off to sleep. I listened to the soft sound of his snoring when he turned towards me and I'd cupped my hand over his cheek when he mumbled something I couldn't quite understand. "It's been about three hours."

  "You haven't slept." He gestures towards my phone. "Have you been on that since we got here?"

  "No." I twist around so I can rest it on the edge of my bedside table. "I was just texting my friend. I was supposed to meet her for lunch today."

  Normally he'd be shooting off questions about who I'm meeting and where. "I feel numb, Rowan. I feel numb inside."

  I shift my body until my head is resting back on my pillow. I pull on the bottom of the sweatshirt I'd put on before we'd left my apartment this morning. Caleb had barely given me enough time to yank on a pair of jeans and rummage for a shirt before he'd pulled me into the hallway.

  "You were so strong today." He brushes a piece of my hair from my forehead. "How did you get to be so strong?"

  "I'm not strong." I smile softly. "I just knew it wasn't him."

  His eyes rake over my face stopping when they reach mine. "You didn't believe it was him for a minute, did you?"

  I fist my hand to keep from reaching up to cup his cheek again. It felt natural and comfortable when I did it when he was fast asleep. Now that he's awake and he's staring right at me, I feel vulnerable and exposed. "I'm not sure. Maybe I just didn't want to believe it was him."

  "I filed a missing person's report two days ago." He swallows hard. "I've contacted everyone I can think of who might know where he is. No one has seen him in weeks."

  I lick my lips. "I've tried to contact him too but he doesn't answer. It's not like him to go silent on me."

  "You care about him a lot, don't you?" He raises a brow. Normally when Caleb would ask me that question, my defenses would kick into high gear. I know that he feels threatened by the closeness of my friendship with his brother. It has to stem from the sibling rivalry that has always been a part of the dynamic between the three brothers.

  "He's my friend, Caleb," I answer without hesitation. "I can't imagine my life without him."

  He shifts slightly on the bed. His lips move but he doesn't say anything. I can tell from the expression on his face that there's a question right there, sitting on the tip of his tongue.

  "What?" I ask softly. "What is it?"

  "It's just…" he stops as he leans closer to me. "It's just that I think about you a lot. I think about when we were kids."

  Out of a sheer need to breathe, I slide away from him until I'm on my back again. "What do you think about? When you would pull those pranks on me and my friends?"

  His eyes light up in the warm afternoon sun that is pouring in through the open window. "You always screamed when I scared you on Halloween."

  "That's because you'd wait by the side of the stoop with a mask on and jump out at me when I came outside." I tap him playfully on his bare chest.

  He shifts and moves one of his arms around me until he's hovering directly above me. "I loved scaring you then. I don't want to scare you now."

  "You don't scare me, Caleb." I stare at his lips. "I'm not scared of you."

  Time feels as though it stalls as he tilts his head slightly to the side before he lowers it. I catch my breath when his soft, full lips finally touch mine for the very first time.

  Chapter 19

  The urgency of his kiss increases as his hand leaps to my chin. He holds my head exactly where he wants it as he pushes my lips apart with his tongue. I moan into the kiss. The sound only spurs him on more and he bites my bottom lip softly.

  I reach up to grab his shoulders. One of my hands slides to the back of his neck and with that a low growl pours from within him and into me.

  I whimper from everything I feel. I can't control it. I may not have admitted it to myself or anyone else, but I've wanted this since I knew what kissing was. I've dreamt of what his lips and breath would taste like. I've compared every man I've ever been with to Caleb even though I've never touched him in an intimate way.

  He pushes his body into mine and I instantly feel his erection beneath his pants. He's as aroused as I am. I want this. I'm wet just from the taste of his kiss.

  His hand drops to my leg and without thinking I arch my hips off the bed.

  "Rowan," he whispers against my lips. "Yes."

  I pull him back into the kiss. My tongue sliding against his in a sensual invitation to give me everything his body has to offer. He pulls back abruptly. It's so fast that I actually moan into the silent air.

  His hand finds the bottom of the sweatshirt and he pushes it up and over my head. I struggle to rid myself of it but once I do I toss it next to us on the bed. All I'm wearing is the thin, white tank top I had put on when he woke me earlier.

  I watch silently as his eyes travel over the front of the shirt. My nipples are hard, swollen and straining against the flimsy material. His hands fall to my waist as his eyes meet mine. I see the same hunger within them that I feel.

  "You're so beautiful." His right hand slides over my body towards my breast. "I can't believe how beautiful you are."

  I push my face into the pillow wanting to absorb everything I'm hearing and feeling. I gasp loudly when I feel his teeth gently tug at my nipple through the shirt. My hand leaps to the back of his head, wanting to feel more. I'm desperate to steal every possible sensation I came from this.

  In one swift and gentle movement, his hand is sliding down my body and beneath the waistband of my pants. I can't control the whimper that escapes me when he edges his fingers under the lace of my panties and I moan loudly when his fingers run through my soft, moist folds until they settle on my clit.

  "You're so wet." He pushes my legs apart with one of his. "I knew you'd feel so good."

  I try to control my desperate need to come beneath his touch but it's futile. He's circling my clit with expert strokes, applying just enough pressure to bring me closer to the edge.

  "I've thought about what your body looks like, Bell." He breathes the words into the air between us. "I've thought about the sounds you make when you come."

  The words only make me more desirous. I cover my face with my hand, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed.

  "No." He shakes his head. "Let me see. Let me watch."

  I drop my hand slowly to my chest as I allow the pleasure to run through my body. I push my wetness into his hand, wanting to feel even more.

  "You're getting close." He lowers his mouth to my nipple and sucks it through the thin material. "I've wanted this for so long."

  I close my eyes as I feel the heat racing through me. I bite my bottom lip to quiet the raging need I h
ave to scream his name and just when he pulls back to look at me, I lock eyes with him as I fall over the edge into an intense orgasm.

  "That's it," his voice is a low growl. "Come for me, Row. Come for me."

  I whimper as I try to move away from his hand but he doesn't stop. He only presses harder, stimulating me more as he slides a finger into my channel and pushes me towards another release.

  "Caleb," I say his name without realizing it. "Caleb."

  "I've never seen anything as beautiful as you." His lips are on mine again. His kiss hot and wanting. His tongue is lush and soft as it glides into my mouth.

  I cry out as an intense orgasm bears down on me just as I hear the sharp shrill ring of a smartphone bite through the air.

  Chapter 20

  Ten minutes later, I'm standing in the shower, the hot water beating a path over my tender flesh. I still feel as though my core is on fire. I've come with men before but it's never been that intense. I know that logically it's not just the sensations that my body was feeling. It has much more to do with the tangled emotions that I feel for Caleb. I've had fantasies for years about the touch of his skin and the taste of him and now that I've felt the skill in his hands and breathed in the heady scent of him, I want him even more.

  He'd ignored the phone the first time it rang. After I came, he'd kissed me tenderly while I fumbled with the belt of his pants. I'd wanted to slide down the bed and take him in my mouth. I wanted to give him pleasure in the way I've always imagined I would. In my wildest and most arousing dreams, Caleb is standing against a wall, while I'm on my knees, and his hands are on my head. His cock is sliding in and out of my mouth and his breath is labored and heavy as he comes hard and gives me a taste of everything that he is.

  I'd nodded in patient agreement when he told me that he had to take the call and I'd finally rolled off the bed and slid into the bathroom when he stood up, turned his back to me and walked to the window to talk about an order of shirts that hadn't been shipped.