HE KNEW!
986 Words
CHAPTER THREE
Elara’s Pov
I kept tossing and turning, the silk sheets feeling like sandpaper against my skin. My stomach let out a low, traitorous growl that echoed in the silent room. Hunger was officially winning the war against my pride.
About an hour ago, Caleb had called me down for dinner. I had actually made it halfway down the stairs, but I stopped dead when I saw him.
He was standing in the kitchen, completely shirtless as he plated the food. The sight of him—so casual, so domestic, and so devastatingly attractive—sent me bolting back to my room. I had shouted some pathetic excuse about not being hungry because of the stressful day and slammed my door.
Staying under the same roof as him was making my secret obsession spiral out of control.
Every second, the attraction just grew, clawing at my throat until I felt like I might choke on it. I hated it. I hated that I wondered if the military had made him this way hotter, colder and more dangerous.
Why did he leave that life? Why was he standing in front of a chalkboard instead of leading a platoon?
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was Nicolas…again.
“Hey baby, just checking in. How are you coping with the move? Miss you.”
I stared at the screen and felt a pang of guilt. I barely had the energy to respond.
The only reason I had even started dating Nicolas was to build a wall between myself and these feelings for Caleb after he left three years ago to continue his military service. I wanted a distraction from my feelings for him but looking at the text now, I realized it was a spectacular failure.
It was midnight already and the hunger was becoming more and more unbearable.
I reached for the soda bottle on my nightstand, but it was empty. My throat was parched, and my stomach was cramping.
‘ He’s probably asleep’, I told myself. I mean nobody stays up this late when they have to teach early in the morning.
I crept out of bed, tiptoeing down the hallway like a thief. I moved slowly, making sure the kitchen door didn't creak as I pushed it open.
I reached into the fridge, grabbing a fresh glass bottle of soda. My hands were shaking so much that the condensation made the glass slick and it slipped.
I gasped, bracing for the sound of shattering glass, but it never came.
Large, calloused hands shot out from behind me, catching the bottle mid-air. I jumped back, my spine colliding with a firm, warm, and slightly damp chest. My heart nearly climbed out of my throat.
Caleb.
The air in the kitchen suddenly felt like it was made of lead. He was wet—probably from a late-night swim, wearing nothing but low-slung sweatpants and a thin top that clung to every ripple of his torso.
Suddenly, his arms wrapped around my waist, turning me slowly until I was forced to face him, a faint smirk played on his lips as he held up the soda.
"Looking for this?" he murmured, his voice a low, vibrating hum that made my toes curl.
Fear and adrenaline hit me at once, freezing my limbs as I instantly looked away.
"Look at me, Elara," he commanded.
I forced my gaze upward. He gave me a brief, devastating smile before it vanished as quickly as it came.
"Why are you avoiding me?" he asked, his hands moving from the soda to my hair. He wound a strand around his finger, pulling my head back just enough to force me to meet his stare.
He stepped closer, his chest inches from my face. Up close, I could see the dark ink of his tattoos peeking out from the neckline of his shirt.
"Please... let me go," I whispered, my voice trembling with fear and want.
He frowned, the playfulness vanishing. He let the soda bottle drop onto the counter with a dull thud and moved even closer, pressing me back against the cold surface of the fridge. Before I could react, he grabbed both of my wrists, pinning them above my head with one hand. He trapped me there, leaning in until I could feel the heat radiating off his skin.
My heart was racing so fast I thought I might faint. Is this happening? Is he actually going to...
I squeezed my eyes shut, my breath hitching as I waited for the impact of his lips. I waited to receive what I craved, what I wished for.
But nothing happened.
I opened my eyes and my face heated up in embarrassment. Caleb wasn't leaning in for a kiss, he was looking at me with pure amusement, his expression twisted into a look of mocking pity.
He wasn't caught up in the moment; he was enjoying my desperation.
He stepped back, releasing my wrists as if they were made of something disgusting. He picked up the soda, uncapped it with an effortless twist, and took a slow swig.
"You should probably go back to bed and go reply to his text," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I wouldn't want you to keep Nicolas waiting. You’re so clearly... in love with him, right?"
The shame washed over me in a cold, suffocating wave. My dignity was gone, shattered on the kitchen floor like the glass I hadn't dropped.
He knew!.
He was off at the military borders when I started dating Nicolas and he hadn't even met him—even though all my family members had, so how does he know?
He saw right through my pathetic attempt at a relationship and my even more pathetic reaction to him.
I stood there frozen, my cheeks burning and my body trembling, watching him walk out of the kitchen without a backward glance.
- Writer
