The Crush List

Chapter Nine – Reckless Love

Emery wasn’t sure if the light streaming into Cal’s kitchen was too bright, or if it was just the glare of awkwardness catching up to her. She stirred her coffee slowly, sitting barefoot at the marble island while Cal plated fresh eggs and toast like they hadn’t almost kissed... or like she hadn’t disappeared with a rockstar immediately after.

He sat down across from her, dressed down in a plain T-shirt and sweatpants, hair still damp from a morning shower. So casual. So composed. Like last night didn’t shake him at all.

“So,” Cal said, breaking the silence between bites, “we can officially cross one more thing off your list.”

She raised a brow, pretending not to overanalyze his tone. “Just one?”

He smirked. “Dancing like no one’s watching. You definitely did that. Whole room saw it. Own it.”

She made a face, cheeks warming. “I was a little tipsy.”

“You were fearless,” he corrected, leaning back in his chair. “That’s the whole point.”

Her fingers tapped against her coffee cup. “I think we crossed off one more, actually.”

He tilted his head in that thoughtful way he always did when he was trying to read between her words. “Yeah?”

She met his gaze and held it, even when it made her chest flutter. “Kissing someone I shouldn’t.”

Cal went still for half a second. Just a blink. But she noticed.

His voice lowered, thoughtful. “You think you shouldn’t have?”

“I think,” she said slowly, “if the list is about doing things I never dared to do before... then that kiss definitely belongs on it.”

He looked away for a moment, exhaling like he needed the air between them. “So now we’re two for ten.”

“Guess so,” she said, trying to sound breezy, but her heart thudded against her ribs like it wanted more than crossed-off boxes.

Because she wasn’t sure if the kiss had been a mistake… or the beginning of something that scared her even more.

Cal leaned on the kitchen island, tablet in hand, scrolling to the list like they were simply checking off groceries.

“Alright,” he said with that maddening calm of his. “Let’s go over what we’ve tackled so far.”

Emery sipped her orange juice, pretending her pulse wasn’t thudding in her neck.

“Make a friend for life…” He paused, glanced at her. “Lianne. Definitely a keeper.”

She nodded, smiling softly.

“One-night stand with a rockstar.” He arched a brow. “Still impressed with that one.”

Her cheeks went warm. “You arranged that.”

“I opened the door. You walked through it.” He smirked, then looked back at the screen.

“Kiss someone you just met.” He tapped the screen. “Jace again. Guy’s pulling double duty.”

She laughed under her breath. “He’s efficient, I’ll give him that.”

Then his voice dipped, almost too casually. “Kiss someone you shouldn’t.”

She froze. Her stomach fluttered.

Cal didn’t look up. Just crossed it off and moved to the next item.

That was it?

“That’s four,” she said, watching him too closely. “You’re not even going to pretend that one meant anything?”

He finally glanced at her, expression unreadable. “You tell me, Em. Did it?”

She opened her mouth. Closed it. “I don’t know.”

He nodded slowly, setting the tablet down like the conversation didn’t weigh a hundred pounds. “Then maybe it’s good we got it out of the way.”

Out of the way. Like it was something inconvenient.

She looked away, the moment unraveling fast. “What’s next then?” she asked, trying to sound light.

“There’s Leo Stanton’s party this weekend. Could be a good place to check off something reckless.”

“Like skinny dipping?” she asked, forcing a smirk.

His smile was slow, unreadable. “If you dare.”

The party was louder than the last one, dimly lit and crawling with people Emery didn’t know. But it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Her nerves had been drowned in the slow burn of gin and something fruity, and now all she could feel was the heat pooling under her skin, the kind that came with watching Cal from across the room — his dark eyes skimming the crowd, occasionally landing on her.

He hadn’t brought her a drink tonight. He hadn’t cracked some low, flirty joke or pulled her aside like he usually did. No soft glances. No teasing smirk. He was just… there. Watching. Holding back.

It made her burn.

Screw it.

She wasn’t going to keep dancing around it — or him. Not tonight.

With her glass nearly empty and her heart pounding, Emery pushed through the crowd toward him. He was near the balcony doors, saying something to a woman who clearly wanted more of his attention than she was getting. Too bad for her.

“Hey,” Emery said, voice soft but steady.

He turned instantly, his gaze sharpening when he saw her — really saw her. “Hey,” he replied, but there was a caution in it she didn’t like.

She stepped in, close enough for her perfume to wrap around him. “I’m not going to be safe anymore.”

His brows twitched. “What?”

“I’ve been waiting. Watching you watch me. And I’ve decided I’m done waiting for you to make the first move. I’m making mine.”

“Emery—”

“No,” she cut in, firm and breathless. “You’re the one on this whole 'live your life' kick. You told me to go for what I want, feel something wild… get my heart broken if I have to.”

She grabbed the front of his shirt, her voice trembling. “Well, I’m already falling for you. Have been for a long time. So if this is going to break me—fine. But I’m not leaving tonight without knowing what it feels like to finally kiss you and not hold back.”

She kissed him.

No hesitation. No safety net.

Just emotion and need and years of something unspoken snapping loose in her chest.

He didn’t pull away. His hand caught her waist, tightening — like maybe this wasn’t just her moment, but his too.

And still, she kissed him harder.

When they finally parted, barely breathing, she whispered against his lips, “That’s number seven and nine. I’m not sorry.”

Cal stared at her, eyes dark with something almost feral. He didn’t speak at first. Just looked at her like the world had just shifted beneath his feet. Then—

“Get in the car.”

She blinked. “What?”

“I said get in the car. Because if you think I’m letting you walk around this party looking like that, tasting like this, after saying what you just said—then you don’t know me as well as you think.”

He took her hand.

And Emery let herself be led out of the party, her pulse thundering, her lips still tingling.

Whatever came next — she knew she wouldn’t regret tonight.

They didn’t speak in the car.

Not once.

Not when the driver opened the door, not when Cal helped her out, not even when the mansion doors shut behind them with a heavy, echoing finality.

It was only when they reached the quiet of the living room, the night pressing close around the glass windows, that Cal finally turned to face her.

His tie was already loose. His sleeves rolled. His hair slightly tousled from where her hands had already been earlier that night. And his eyes—

God, his eyes.

“I tried not to touch you tonight,” he said, voice low, almost ragged. “I told myself to play it cool. That it was better if we kept a line between us.”

Emery swallowed. Her heartbeat was in her throat.

“But then you kissed me,” he continued, stepping forward. “You looked at me like you weren’t scared anymore. Like you wanted this as much as I do.”

“I do,” she whispered. “I’m done pretending I don’t.”

He reached out, cupping her face, his thumb brushing her cheek so softly it made her eyes sting. “I warned you I was dangerous.”

“You’re not dangerous,” she said, stepping closer, her fingers gripping his shirt. “You’re everything I’ve wanted and was too scared to reach for.”

That was all it took.

He crushed his mouth to hers — not careful, not gentle, but consumed. All the restraint shattered in a single breath.

His hands slid down her back, gripping her like he needed to remind himself this wasn’t a dream. She gasped against his lips as he lifted her with ease, carrying her toward the staircase like she weighed nothing.

By the time they reached his bedroom, she was a mess of kisses and whispered pleas, her dress already half undone by his skilled fingers. He set her down with reverence, like she was something precious. And maybe, in his eyes, she was.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, forehead pressed to hers, breath ragged.

“I’m the one who kissed you first,” she said, tugging his shirt loose. “I’m the one who came for you tonight, remember?”

Something in him cracked. He kissed her again, deep and consuming, while his hands worked with practiced, aching care. Every touch was slow, deliberate — not to rush, but to feel. To memorize.

He took his time undressing her, letting his lips follow the path of bare skin as if he needed to commit every inch of her to memory. And when they finally came together, it wasn’t reckless like the first time had been with Jace — this was something deeper.

Something that curled into her bones.

Cal didn’t just touch her body — he claimed the parts of her she thought she’d hidden. The unsure girl who didn’t think she was worth being seen. The woman who feared being left behind.

He saw all of her.

And when she came apart in his arms, trembling, clinging, whispering his name over and over like a promise — he held her like she was everything he’d been missing too.

That night, Emery didn’t just cross another thing off the list.

She rewrote it.

And every number, every reckless idea, every daring dare — suddenly pointed to one name.

Cal.

Always him.