Anyone else in love with Caleb? Even a little? ;)

***

"Shit, Rosalyn..."

I fall against him as we both reach a blinding, delirious finish, our skin hot as he holds me, my head nestled beneath his chin. Our bodies are tired and burning and pressed tightly against each other, slick and spent.

We breathe for a few moments and then I slide off of him, and he tugs me to his side, gently kissing my forehead, our chests heaving frantically for air. I moan into his neck, and he sighs, deep and satisfied, and between my legs there are still waves of bliss, a dull ache.

I tuck myself closer against his side when he pulls a blanket over us, and the feeling of my bareness against his is sinful and so incredibly addictive. Everything feels comfortable when we lay beside each other, his fingers threading themselves into my hair, a hand trailing languidly up and down my hip. I let my palm rest against the plains of his chest, lean and tanned, and I trace teasing circles across his smooth skin.

"We are very good at that," he mumbles against me, and I can feel his boyish smirk brushing the top of my head.

"Mhm." A small groan of agreement is all I can manage. I don't know how long it's been since dinner, but after another marathon of steamy, euphoric home-runs, my eyes are fluttering shut. "Very..." I yawn, and his laugh is a small vibration against my chest.

"You good?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah."

We both grumble when he gets up to switch off the lights, and when he climbs back under the covers, I rest my head on top of his chest, which is soft and hard and the perfect pillow. His heart beats beneath my ear, strong and sure, and he rests his hands on my waist, holding me like he can't let go.

After moments in the darkness, the thought that I have been suppressing for a while now settles at the front of my mind, keeping me hostage. With a sigh, I breathe, "How are you guys holding up with, you know...?" I fade off, but he knows exactly what I'm talking about.

He brushes his nose tenderly against the top of my head, pausing before he speaks. "We're fine, I guess." I feel him take a breath, heavy and tired. "It just sucks, you know?"

I turn so that our chests are flush, my chin resting just below his. Even though he can't see, I give him a supportive smile, my hands gently squeezing his shoulders, my eyelashes a soft flutter against his neck. "Well, I'm here if you wanna talk about it."

As soon as the words leave my mouth I feel strange, because I've been trying to avoid thinking about the whole thing, let alone talking about it. But from the ghost of a smile I feel, even through the darkness, I know he appreciates it, and he places a soft kiss against my the tip of my nose.

"If you didn't tire me out so much I would take you up on that," he jokes, and I return to my place against his side, marveling at the way we seem to fit together, rough and smooth, perfect. "You too, okay?"

"Okay."

Even as we fall asleep the whole thing still runs through my mind, and it's me and Caleb and Daniel and my dad and Nero, and it's frustrating, annoying, depressing. Unfortunate. I try to let Caleb's sleeping form comfort my erratic thoughts, but even as I slip out of consciousness, it's restless and not as easy as it should be.

•§•

times Caleb and I have sex throughout the week is astounding. We text each other teasingly during the day and see each other at night, needy and tireless.

I'm around a lot less than usual at my own place. But I convince him that Friday night it's my turn to host, and I bake a fabulous layered cake, my best roast chicken, and all the fixings. Roasted potatoes, fresh rolls, steamed carrots, creamy spinach and mushrooms.

It's a miracle how much I get done after work, and I even have long enough to shower and put on a pretty dress, doing my hair and looking fantastic. God, it's been a while since I've been in a relationship. It's a lot of work but it's exhilarating, and this one is fresh and new and I can't seem to get enough.

Just as I'm all ready I hear familiar laughter through the door, down the hall. Voices engage in a loud, friendly conversation, and something about it compels me to swing open my door, looking out into the corridor.

Immediately, confusion strikes, and next comes the panic. Neither of the men notice me yet. Caleb chuckles and Nero smirks. I watch them, dumbfounded, as they joke and laugh and smile and walk towards my apartment, and Caleb gives me a melting grin when he spots me, which breaks me from my startled trance.

I try to look normal, giving him my best smile, and he doesn't notice my turmoil. When he reaches me, he tugs me gently to his side, planting a soft kiss to my cheek. "Hey, Rosalyn," he greets, and I avoid Nero's eyes.

"Hey." My voice sounds as regular, as upbeat, as I can make it. I gesture between them, raising an eyebrow. "So you two have met?" It's amazing how innocent and normal I make that sound.

Caleb grins, and Nero's relaxed smile is so believable that it's impossible to see anything duplicitous behind it. "Your neighbor has the most beautiful 488 GTB I have ever seen."

I let out a small laugh, and Nero does too, his grin friendly and playful, his gaze just brushing mine. Immediately, I get it. Men and their cars. Nero gives a small nod in Caleb's direction. "Your boyfriend has great taste in cars." Caleb chuckles, and Nero continues speaking. He's friendly in this weird, normal, incredibly out-of-character way that confuses the hell out of me. "Your Mercedes is nice too, man."

Caleb waves a dismissive hand. "Nothing comes close to your Ferarri, dude."

The way that they seem to get along so well astounds me.

Nero shrugs modestly. "You wanna take it out sometime? Let me know next time you're around." The idea of them spending time together immediately alarms me, but Caleb's wide grin is boyish and so happy, like he's a kid at Christmas. Nero's eyes finally meet mine, and there's the subtlest glint in them, one that I'm sure only I can see. "That is if my neighbor will let me steal you for a little while." He gives a convincingly ordinary smile, and he is charming and friendly and such an incredible actor that it's no wonder he and Caleb are suddenly best friends. It's like he's a different person.

Caleb's laugh shows no trace of uneasiness or worry or suspicion. He clearly believes that Nero is just my cool neighbor with an awesome car. God, if only he knew. The irony is so painful that it takes all my energy and strength to remain calm, collected, normal. Normal. As if anything is normal anymore.

"What do you say, Ros?" Caleb gives me a nudge. His puppy dog eyes are adorable and they melt the ice that's surrounded my heart.

I give him a small, indifferent shrug, gifting him a smile and squeezing his hand. "Don't let me stop you." I meet Nero's eyes for the briefest second, my gaze filled with a hidden challenge of my own. "Not tonight though, okay?" I give Caleb my most innocent, playful, wanting look through hooded eyelids and thick lashes. "I made dinner."

The look on Caleb's face sends a little shot of relief through me. His smile is dizzying. "In that case..." He shrugs, giving Nero a look of defeat. "She made dinner, man."

Nero's smile shows no trace of anger or sadness or bitterness or envy or jealousy or any kind of malice. I search his eyes, and when they meet mine for the last time, I catch the tiniest flash of... something. Something hurt, pained. But only for a second. Then it's a polite good-bye and good-night and see you later and Caleb whisks me into my apartment, shutting the door and pressing me softly against it and he says hello with his mouth on mine and it's perfect and he's perfect except all I can think of is Nero.

•§•

we're finished supper my good mood is mostly restored. Being with Caleb is easy and fun, and he manages to take my mind off of the worrying encounter from earlier, at least for a few moments.

When Caleb apologetically excuses himself to take a call from work I'm left with my thoughts, still trying to figure out my issue with it all. Or, okay, I guess I already know.

It's that Nero is trouble and Caleb is good and I don't want the latter ruined and tainted by the other. It's that Nero represents the bad in my life and Caleb represents everything right, and I don't need to see the two beside each other, I don't need to compare.

And then there's the other thing. I'm not stupid or in denial or lying to myself so I know. I know that Nero and I are... complicated.

Is it wrong that I felt like a liar, like I'm cheating and hiding something, when I was with both of them? Like Caleb will know that Nero kissed me or that I'm hiding the truth about a man's murder or that Nero is who has threatened me—has threatened all of us? There is so much wrong with it that it makes my head pound. All I know is that there is no way I can let the two of them be around each other.

Not only for Caleb but for me. For my sanity and clarity and ease of mind.

When Caleb's done on the phone he's sweet and guilty for having to take a call, and I silence his apologies with a kiss. I put everything into this kiss—my worry and unease, my fear and guilt, my need for him to be safe, to stay good and kind and sweet and happy, for it all to be okay. When we pull apart the look he gives me makes me hurt because it's tender and caring and full of promises he doesn't know he won't be able to keep. And god, oh my dear God I wish I could just tell him everything, I wish I don't have to lie to him.

I let him carry me to my bed and peel off all of our clothes and have me, hot and gentle and rough and soft all at the same time, and when I come and I call his name, he's there, holding me, whispering in my ear. And for those moments, it is all enough.

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