I walked into Caleb’s house and nearly choked.

There was a girl standing in his hallway, wrapped in nothing but a towel, dripping wet like she just stepped out of a damn steamy shower. Her cheeks were flushed, her collarbone still beading with water. The door to his bedroom was half open behind her, the room dim and heavy with the kind of silence that screams sex just happened.

The air smelled like sweat and salt and something I didn’t want to name.

Caleb Shaw. The guy I’d crushed on for ten freaking years. And today, he fucked someone else.

Just like that, the decade-long fantasy I’d held onto died. Not with a bang, not even with a dramatic heartbreak—just this dull, hollow thud in my chest.

Chapter 1

Then he got hit by a car.

Well, not funny—but kind of. Right after I swore I was done with him for real this time, Caleb ends up with a busted leg and can’t even wipe his own ass. Karma’s weird like that.

My mom practically begged me to go see him at the hospital. “You’ve got a flexible schedule,” she said, “and Caleb’s practically your older brother—you two grew up side by side. Help him out a little, honey.”

Before I could even finish forming a polite rejection, Mrs. Shaw called me herself, sweet and soft and full of gratitude. How the hell was I supposed to say no?

“I heard Caleb has a girlfriend,” I tried.

“What girlfriend?” she laughed, genuinely confused. “He said he’s single. You must be mistaken.”

Yeah. Mistaken my ass.

Still, I showed up, clutching a thermos of overpriced seafood congee I grabbed from a takeout spot near the hospital.

He looked up from his book as I walked in—cool, unreadable. I froze in the doorway, remembering the last time I told him I was done chasing him. That had been what, two days ago?

He didn’t even look surprised. Just stared at me with that half-smirk, like he’d been expecting me to fold. Again.

To be fair, I’d only made that “I swear I’m done with you” declaration three times total. But each time I came crawling back, he got more comfortable with the idea that I’d never actually leave.

What he didn’t know is that this time, something in me really snapped. I wasn’t pretending anymore. I wasn’t even heartbroken. I was just… over it.

“I didn’t have time to cook,” I said, setting the congee on the tray beside him. “It’s store-bought.”

He tasted one spoonful and frowned. “You bought this?”

“No shit,” I muttered, dropping into the chair beside him.

“I’ll cook next time,” I added quickly. Old habits.

Caleb didn’t like outside food—said it was too greasy, too dirty, too fake. Back when I was still head-over-heels, I’d spend hours making sure every shrimp was deveined perfectly just to impress him.

Then Lena walked in.

She had that sweaty glow from the summer heat, breathless, cheeks flushed—looking every bit the kind of girl men wrote songs about. She was wearing this tight denim skirt that clung to her like a second skin.

I remember the first time Caleb met her. He told her she looked great in skirts. When I wore one? He wrinkled his nose and said, “Why would you dress like that?”

I starved myself down to ninety-five pounds trying to figure out what kind of girl he’d think looked “appropriate” in a skirt. Amy begged me to stop, told me I looked amazing as I was—better, even. But it didn’t matter.

Lena was exactly the kind of girl Caleb liked. Long legs, small waist, sleek black hair that fell perfectly over her shoulders. Me? I was always just the tomboy next door.

“Caleb, I brought you some congee!” Lena chirped, all sunshine.

He barely looked at her. “I already ate.”

She blinked, obviously disappointed.

“It’s okay,” I said smoothly, grabbing the thermos. “You can reheat it later.”

He shot me a glance. No thanks, no emotion. Just Caleb being Caleb.

They chatted. I played with my phone, trying not to listen. He offered her a blanket for her legs. He never did that for me.

Eventually, I dozed off at the foot of his bed like some loyal-ass golden retriever.

Chapter 2

Caleb never liked me. I knew that.

We’d known each other forever. Back when I had a buzz cut, ran around the neighborhood in tank tops with my knees scraped and my skin sunburnt. Even when I hit puberty, let my hair grow, filled out a bit, people started noticing me—but Caleb never did.

To him, I was always that bony little kid next door.

Not long ago, I overheard him telling Lena, “Jenna Young? Please. Even rabbits don’t shit where they sleep.”

I still brought him breakfast the next morning.

Because I was pathetic.

And then, a few days ago, I saw her. Lena. Fresh out of Caleb’s shower. Hair dripping, shoulders bare, skin glowing. She screamed when she saw me. Hid behind him like I was the one trespassing.

The bedroom door was cracked open behind her.

And yeah, the whole room smelled like sex.

I handed Caleb his phone and said, “Your mom’s been trying to reach you.”

He barely looked at me. “Hey, Mom. I’m fine.”

Like I was invisible.

That girl? Lena had been coming over every single morning for the past month. Stayed until six or seven at night. Sometimes smiled and waved when we crossed paths.

He used to never let girls into his house. I was the only exception. But I guess I wasn’t anymore.

I should’ve been glad she didn’t sleep over.

Clearly, I was wrong.

Later, he told me his phone had died. I nodded and said, “I should go.”

He stared at me like he wanted to say something but didn’t.

“Wait,” Lena called after me. “I drank too much last night and my clothes smell like hell. Mind if I borrow something of yours?”

She smiled like we were old friends. “I think we’re about the same size.”

I forced a smile. “Sure.”

When I got home, I sat in the dark for a long time. Didn’t cry. Just stared at my hands until I realized I’d dug my own nails into my palms so hard they were bleeding.

That was the moment I knew—really knew—I had to let him go.

I even thought about leaving town.

But then Caleb got hit by a car.

Chapter 3

I was supposed to stay the night at the hospital, which basically meant babysitting Caleb while he acted like he didn’t need anyone.

It was close to eleven when he finally shut his laptop.

“Bring me a hot towel,” he said without even looking at me. “I need to clean up.”

“Clean up?” I blinked. “You mean… like, a sponge bath?”

He raised an eyebrow, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Haven’t showered in three days. Unless you want the whole place to reek.”

By the time I came back with the towel, Caleb was already undoing his buttons. His shirt came off in one smooth motion, revealing a lean, toned torso—defined abs, sharp collarbone, the kind of body that made your brain go stupid if you looked too long.

If this were a year ago, I probably would’ve passed out right there, nosebleed and all. But now? I was just trying to keep my damn composure.

He wiped his neck and arms first, slow and unbothered. His chest rose and fell with each breath, smooth skin catching the dim light like some kind of low-budget Calvin Klein ad.

I found myself zoning out.

“Wash this,” he said, handing the towel back without a glance.

“Right.” I took it like the obedient little idiot I was.

But when I came back, he didn’t reach for it.

“My back,” he said simply.

I got the message.

I moved behind him, carefully scrubbing his shoulders, then down his back, then—just as I reached his waist—he grabbed my wrist.

I froze. “You good?” I asked, voice slightly higher than it should’ve been.

He didn’t answer.

And like a complete dumbass, I blurted, “You want me to do… below too?”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to bury myself alive.

Caleb went still. His eyes dropped to mine, unreadable.

Fuck.

Why the hell did I say that? Now he was gonna think I was trying to seduce him or something.

I quickly pulled back. “You know what? Maybe you should get a nurse. A real one.”

His brow furrowed. “You think I’m too much trouble?”

I laughed awkwardly. “I just think… maybe Lena should help with stuff like this. I mean, she is your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he snapped.

Oh, so now sleeping with someone doesn’t count?

Jesus, Caleb. When did you become such a damn asshole?

Chapter 4

I told Amy everything.

I mean everything. The towel. The shower. The fucking smug towel smile.

Amy nearly bit through her damn straw. “Are you seriously still into him after all that?”

“I’m not!” I groaned, rubbing my face. “I was planning on leaving town, going back to South Ridge. But then he gets hit by a car, and my mom guilt-trips me into playing nurse.”

Amy’s eyes lit up. “Wait, I think my cousin works in the city. Want me to set you up? He’s hot as hell.”

“You have a cousin now?”

“Step-cousin. Close enough. I’ll have him add you.”

A few minutes later, someone with the username JL sent me a friend request.

I accepted. No message followed.

Whatever. Probably just being polite. I didn’t think much of it and moved on with my day.

Caleb ended up staying in the hospital for over a week while they made sure the fracture wasn’t shifting. Lena came by every damn day. Brought him fruit, soup, handmade shit I was supposed to feel bad for not making myself.

He was polite to her. Hell, he was polite to everyone.

Except me.

Lena even turned to me one day, voice syrupy sweet. “You look exhausted. Why don’t you head home tonight? I can stay with him.”

Honestly, I hadn’t been sleeping well. Caleb woke up to pee, needed water, or just fucking stared at the ceiling. And every time he moved, I woke up.

“You sure?” I asked.

“Of course.” Her smile widened. “Go get some real sleep.”

When I looked back, Caleb’s lips were pressed in a thin, tight line. The kind of look he got when he was pissed but didn’t want to say it.

I remembered college. One time he got this nasty flu, fever wouldn’t break, and he refused to go to the hospital like a stubborn idiot. I stayed up all night cooling him down with wet towels, red-eyed and exhausted, trying not to cry.

Next morning, he opened his eyes and just stared at me like he didn’t expect me to still be there.

I asked if he was hungry. He said nothing for a while, then whispered, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll get you sick?”

I’d said, “I’d rather be the one sick than watch you suffer.”

Caleb didn’t respond then either. Just… looked.

If it were me back then, no way I’d hand him over to another girl.

But I wasn’t that girl anymore.

As I walked out of the room, still thinking about all of this, I almost ran straight into someone.

A long finger pressed lightly against my forehead.

“Careful.”

I blinked up.

It was a doctor—tall, ridiculously good-looking, lab coat and all, with eyes that actually seemed kind.

He gave me a half-smile and glanced at the room behind me before walking away.

And just like that, a thought slipped into my brain.

Damn. Other guys really could be this handsome.

Chapter 5

That night, on the way back to the hospital, Amy texted me.

Amy: My cousin says he’s already seen you and thinks you’re cute 😉

Me: WTF?! When??

Amy: He said not to tell you. 🤫 Let him say it himself.

I walked into Caleb’s room feeling suspicious as hell.

There was a guy sitting on the bed next to him, bandage wrapped around his forehead, grinning like we were old friends.

“Jenna, right? Finally get to meet you.”

Caleb looked mildly irritated. “This is Lena’s brother, Ryan.”

Ryan Kane stood up to shake my hand. “You probably don’t remember me, but I’ve heard a ton about you.”

Caleb muttered, “He was in the passenger seat during the accident.”

“Oh yeah, thanks for that, by the way,” Ryan said sarcastically, then smacked Caleb’s casted leg. “You nearly killed me, asshole.”

Caleb didn’t even flinch. “You can leave now.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Fine. But you owe me.”

Once he was gone, I handed Caleb a change of clothes. “What actually happened that night? Why the crash?”

He didn’t answer.

Later, I helped him wash his hair. He hated going more than two days without shampoo, even if it meant letting me scrub his scalp like a hairstylist on minimum wage.

I watched his face as I worked through the foam. Eyes closed, face calm. God, why did he have to look like that?

Maybe he did care about me. A little.

Maybe not in the way I wanted. But still.

Once I finished blow-drying his hair, I couldn’t help but run my fingers through it. It was soft. Way too soft for a guy.

Caleb reached out and grabbed my wrist, wrapping my hand in his.

I had small hands. Always did. Soft, round, secretly squishy. Amy used to joke I was a human pillow.

Caleb liked to play with my palms—press into them, rub them like worry stones. The pads of his fingers knew exactly where to hit to make me melt. And I hated that I liked it.

But this time? I pulled away.

He looked up, eyes shadowed.

See? Turns out not liking him wasn’t as impossible as I thought.

The next morning, during rounds, I saw that doctor again.

Same smile. Same stupidly attractive face.

“Discharge in two days?” he asked, checking Caleb’s chart.

I nodded.

“Huh. That fast?” he murmured something else I didn’t catch, then glanced at me. “Hi. I’m Jason Lee.”

He turned and walked out.

My brain clicked.

JL?

Caleb raised a brow. “Who was that?”

I blinked. “I think… that’s the guy Amy tried to set me up with.”

Chapter 6

Caleb was finally getting discharged.

Lena showed up, of course. Practically glued herself to him while I ran around the hospital like some underpaid assistant, trying to get all the paperwork done. I watched her lean close, whisper something against his ear, her perfectly manicured hand resting delicately on his arm like she owned it.

I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly gave myself a migraine.

They were out here acting like they were starring in a Hallmark romcom, meanwhile I was trying to figure out how to file the damn insurance paperwork.

And of course—I lost his insurance card.

I was spiraling when I ran into Jason. Literally. Guy popped up like a calm breeze in the middle of my tornado and helped me search every corner of the building. Turns out a nurse had picked it up and left it at the front desk.

Once we had it, he didn’t leave. Walked me all the way to the billing office, carried all Caleb’s shit in both hands without a single complaint.

“Need help with the bags?” he asked, already reaching for them.

“I don’t want to waste your time—”

“If it’s for you, it’s not wasted,” he said with a little smirk.

Jesus.

He even flirted like a gentleman. What the hell.

He helped me drag Caleb’s crap to the underground garage, then carefully guided Caleb—still limping—into the car. After all that, he gave Lena and Caleb a polite nod, looked back at me and said, “If anything comes up, just call me. Doesn’t matter what it is.”

I nodded, heart doing backflips. “Thank you, Dr. Lee.”

He smiled and waved.

Caleb didn’t say a damn word the whole time.

Lena leaned over and grinned at me. “Your boyfriend?”

I paused, my hand on the car door. “Not yet.”

Caleb and I lived next door to each other.

Yeah. Still.

After college, I busted my ass working crap freelance gigs, just to afford rent in this overpriced downtown shoebox—because it was close to him. Half my income went to rent, the rest to ramen. But now, at least, I could help him out while he recovered.

He barely spoke during the ride home. Not even to Lena, who kept trying to get him to laugh. But I’d gotten used to that cold wall of his a long time ago.

He could walk on his own now, technically. But I was still supposed to keep an eye on him, in case he fell or something. My mom made me promise on FaceTime.

So, I moved my laptop to his place.

Work? Dead. My fans were already roasting me alive for missing updates. What could I say? “Sorry, guys. Been busy babysitting the man I’ve loved since puberty—who may or may not be sleeping with a girl who’s hotter than me.”

That’d go over great.

Jason would text me under the guise of “just checking on your recovery status,” and I’d text back like, “I’m worried about the bruising near the… ego.” We both knew what we were doing.

Sometimes I wanted to fake a fall just to get examined by him again. Too bad he wasn’t a gynecologist—I might’ve actually scheduled a real appointment.

And then Ryan started showing up.

Apparently, he and Caleb were working on launching some designer fashion startup. Real “authentic, edgy, urban wear” bullshit. Lena was their muse or something. Model-slash-mannequin.

One day, Ryan squinted at me and said, “You know, you’ve got the frame for some of these pieces. Lena’s style’s a little too soft. We could use variety.”

Caleb didn’t even look up. “She’s not right for it.”

Ryan shrugged at me apologetically.

I smiled, didn’t say shit.

Because I wasn’t that girl anymore. The one who used to unravel over one throwaway comment from him. The one who’d starve herself to fit into some fantasy.

That night, I sat out on the balcony, FaceTiming my mom while Caleb slept.

We were talking about rent, groceries, boring stuff—then she said it. Gently.

“Honey… if you two were meant to be together, it would’ve happened already.”

I nodded. “I know. I don’t think I even like him that much anymore.”

She blinked, surprised. First time I’d said it out loud, I guess.

In the past, I used to cry, shout, slam doors—“I’ll never chase him again! He means nothing!”

But I never said I was over him.

Until now.

We ended the call. I turned around—

And Caleb was there.

Standing in the shadows like a goddamn ghost. Just… staring.