Chapter 5

FIVE

CARRIE

I can't look Cal in the eye. At least not that eye. All I can see is him jerking off, his thick member. I had never seen one before and the sight of him stroking and pulling on it had my heart do a shudder of excitement I had never felt before. It's a different kind of excitement than what I usually feel when I look at Cal. I can't describe the feeling, it's something exhilarating. The way my blood floods hot and thick through my body as I stare at him, watching the way he tugged on his cock and twisted the head, swiping over the slit. I couldn't believe such a carnal act could be so beautiful.

"You didn't see anything." And he walks away to the balcony, staring out to mom's garden. Is he mad at me? But why? My chest tightens with the thought I might have done something wrong; I just don't know what.

When I saw him masturbating, I was frozen in place as if it had actually happened. I couldn't move, I couldn't think, I couldn't stop seeing it.

I want to go out there and touch him-his back, his arm, his chest, to start with. I don't know what happened to me there at the Stadium because that girl was not me. She might have looked like me and had my voice; I never had the guts from that moment before. Right now, I wish I had her chutzpah, I can really use it.

Biting my bottom lip, I take a few steps toward him, stopping at the open door, my fingers clutch, the metal side bites into my palm. Go to him. Tell him how you feel. Be a femme fatale, I tell myself, instead I hang back, simpering like a virginal heroine in a historical romance novel. Well, at least one of those is right.

"Go back to your room, Carrie." His icy glare burns deep, drilling into my subconscious in an attempt to cow me further. I won't let him.

He turns his head back to stare at the darkening garden in front of him. I can't believe it's almost dark already.

I straighten my back and my resolve, walking closer and closer until I'm standing by his side. His fingers white-knuckle the banister of the balcony railing.

"I know you feel the same way I do Cal. We're adults." I stare straight at him, watching for his reaction, his knuckles hold tighter on the railing. It's so tight I'm afraid he can demolish the steel, to me he's a Superman.

He whirls to me, his body looming over mine, intimidation in every part of his body language. Only problem is I'm not afraid, I know he will never hurt me.

The side of his profile facing me tightens, jaw bunches and jumps and he takes a step closer, his whole body tight enough to unwind in a snap like a broken spring.

He reaches out grabbing me by my biceps, shaking me, my head tossing back and forth, hair swing in my face. He's never been this rough with me before, he's actually kept me at a distance as if pulling me close would cause a problem. My heart jumps at the accusation he wants me and I get wet at the thought. Never knew I'd like to be treated like this. Modern, independent woman and all.

Cal pushes me away, a problem he doesn't want to deal with. I don't go far. I tug my hair out of my eyes, "I'm not going anywhere."

In fact, I step back to him, close enough our chests touch and I feel his fast, panting breaths. His eyes are wide, jerking back and forth as if trying to think of a way to safely get away from me. I channel my inner strong woman, reaching my hand out and touch his cheek with my palm.

He's the ignition to my flame, a conflagration ready to burst into a firestorm in my chest, through my body, through every pulse in my nerves. I shiver with the feelings I don't know how to express or even know how to compare them to anything else. I've never known what these emotions are, just that they make me antsy and jittery and twitchy.

"I. Don't. Want. You. I don't know any other way to make it clearer." He swivels away his hand runs through his hair, leaning his head back, "look. I'll call one of my guys and stay there in between traveling. So have fun. Let me know when you need money for food and I'll send it to you or anything you need." He shoves his hands in the front pocket of his jeans bring out his keys. "Here's the car keys. I'll get an Uber. See you later." He stuffs the keys into my hand which falls limp to my side.

My head follows every move he makes, my stomach rises to my tight chest and stalls. He goes into his closet getting a backpack and goes to his dresser filling it full with clothes. Cal goes back to his closet and grabs a suit, goes back to the dresser, throwing in ties and a couple dress shirts and gathers a few pairs of shoes in his hands. "See you in a few months Carrie. Have fun when you go back to school."

He didn't even look at me when he said those last words. Just walks out the door, phone in his hand. I'm dumbfounded, not knowing what to do or say. Call him back? Follow him and demand he stay? Instead, as if in a daze I stumble to his bed and throw myself onto it, flopping with a bounce.

Lying on my back I stare at the pale blue ceiling fighting the tears that want to fall. I don't know what went wrong. Did I push too hard? Earlier he seemed to be turned on by my divisiveness.

Everything is still the same. He hasn't changed anything since my mother died. Is this a mausoleum to her memory? Did he love her that much? He was by her side through every second of her cancer diagnosis, they never told me until close to the end. Every time I wanted to come home they discouraged me. I thought they wanted me to spend all my time studying, I didn't know they didn't want me to know. The guilt still eats at me.

I crumble, my body bows in my agony, my hurting heart fragments and fractures with his bulldozing over the love I've always had for him, pulling the comforter with me, burrowing into the softness. My head on his pillow, I breathe deep into my lungs the scent of his body wash, the fresh morning breeze after a rain, letting out the scared sorrow I've been holding in since mom died. I've been a skiff lost in the deep sea without any help in sight.