The hate between us

Chapter 13: Ella's Point of View

As I descended the stairs, I was still trying to shake off the weird mix of emotions Caleb had stirred up earlier. My mind kept going back to that moment, the way he looked at me, the way I'd tossed him the red lingerie like it was no big deal. But it was a big deal, wasn't it? Something between us had shifted, and I wasn't sure what to do with it.

"Ella," Dad called out from the living room as I reached the bottom of the stairs. "Do you want to go out for dinner with us?"

I paused, glancing toward the open doorway. It was just the three of us tonight—Dad, Caleb's mom, and me. I figured I might as well go. Anything to get out of the house and away from whatever awkward tension was lingering upstairs.

"Yeah, sure," I replied, moving toward the front hallway. "Can you ask Caleb too?"

"I'm right here," Caleb said, his voice coming from just behind me.

I spun around, startled to find him standing so close. He hadn't made a sound coming down the stairs, and now he was standing there, that same unreadable look in his eyes. His presence still felt heavier than it should have, like every time we were near each other now, the air thickened with something unsaid. I hated how aware I was of him, how easily he could get under my skin.

I didn't say anything, just turned and headed toward the garage, needing to put some distance between us. I could hear Caleb's footsteps following me, as steady and quiet as always.

The garage was cool and smelled faintly of oil and old leather. We had three cars parked inside—Dad's, Caleb's mom's, and mine. We weren't rich by any means, but Dad had done well for himself, and so had Caleb's mom. Our cars reflected that—a nice collection of sleek, well-maintained vehicles. But as I headed toward mine, Caleb veered off in the direction of Dad's car.

"You're driving?" I asked, more surprised than annoyed as I watched him open the driver's side door and settle in.

Caleb shot me a smirk as he turned the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life. "Of course I'm driving."

"Is Dad letting you drive his car?" I folded my arms, raising an eyebrow.

"Obviously," he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"He never lets me drive it."

"Because you can't drive," Caleb shot back without missing a beat, the corners of his mouth tugging into that familiar, irritating grin. "Clearly."

I rolled my eyes, my blood heating up again. "Go to hell, Caleb."

Instead of responding, he just chuckled softly, his eyes flicking over to me briefly before he shifted into gear and pulled out of the garage.

I turned to the window, glaring at the passing scenery as we drove. The entire ride was silent except for the hum of the engine and the occasional click of the turn signal. I kept my gaze fixed on the road outside, trying to ignore the constant presence of Caleb beside me. Even when we weren't talking, he managed to get under my skin. It didn't help that he was a better driver than I'd ever admit.

The air inside the car was tense, but not hostile. It was just... charged. Like neither of us knew what to say or do with the space between us.

I stole a glance at him out of the corner of my eye, catching the way his hands gripped the steering wheel. He looked focused, calm, but there was something beneath the surface. I could see it in the way his jaw tightened every now and then, like he was holding back. It made me wonder if he felt the same tension I did.

But instead of saying anything, I turned back to the window, letting the silence stretch on, thick and unspoken.