The shift had been endless, a string of demanding customers and broken glasses. By the time I stumbled out of the bar, exhaustion hung on me like a weight. Caleb was leaning against his car in the parking lot, his grin as familiar as it was infuriating.
“Need a ride?” he asked, dangling his keys.
I hesitated. Every time I let Caleb back into my life, it felt like stepping into quicksand. But tonight, the thought of walking home alone was unbearable. “Fine,” I muttered, climbing into the passenger seat.
Instead of taking me straight home, Caleb turned onto a back road, the glow of streetlights fading into darkness. I shot him a look. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” he said, his smirk widening.
A few minutes later, we pulled into an abandoned lot I recognized immediately. The cracked asphalt and graffiti-covered walls hadn’t changed, but it felt different now—tinged with nostalgia and something heavier. Caleb killed the engine and pulled a bottle of whiskey from under his seat, holding it out to me.
“You’re kidding,” I said, raising an eyebrow.
“C’mon, just like old times,” he said, unscrewing the cap.
I rolled my eyes but took a sip, the burn warming my chest. We passed the bottle back and forth, the conversation slipping into easy rhythms. Caleb talked about his dad, the bar, the fights he’d been in recently. I told him about the endless grind of work and school. For a while, it almost felt normal.
As the whiskey dulled my thoughts, I found myself leaning closer to Caleb, his warmth a comfort I hadn’t realized I needed. His hand brushed mine, and I didn’t pull away. When he turned to look at me, his gaze lingered, his expression softer than I expected.
“You’re too hard on yourself, you know that?” he said, his voice low.
I laughed bitterly. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“I know enough,” he said, sliding his hand to my cheek. “I know you deserve better than the crap you’ve been putting up with.”
Before I could respond, he kissed me. It wasn’t like Logan—there was no desperation or urgency. Caleb’s kiss was slow and deliberate, as if he was giving me a choice to pull away. But I didn’t. Instead, I let myself fall into the moment, the whiskey and his touch blurring the edges of my hesitation.
One kiss turned into another, and before I knew it, we were tangled together in the backseat. His hands were steady as they explored my skin, his breath warm against my neck. I let myself forget everything—the whispers at school, Logan’s torn loyalties, Vanessa’s manipulations—and just existed in the here and now.
When it was over, we lay in silence, the windows fogged and the night air thick with unspoken words. Caleb turned to me, his voice soft. “I can be the guy you need, Emma.”