My heart started racing when his gaze drifted down to my lips. Yes, do it! my mind screamed. There would be nothing more romantic in the world right now than a kiss in the snow!
He just stared at me, his green gaze burning a hole in my heart. I pleaded with my eyes for him to kiss me. That was exactly what I wanted right now. He took a sudden step back and looked around us. I took a sudden step forward.
Obviously this was one of those stupid guy moments and he didn't understand what I wanted. I was going to explain it to him very, very soon.
But he took another step back, and I stopped, suddenly confused. Were we not on the same page here again?
"You need to get home, Abbey. I don't want you to get caughtin this storm," he said urgently.
I reached out a hand; I couldn't seem to stop myself. "Okay," I said boldly. "Why don't you walk me there?"
A pained expression filled his eyes. He reached out a hand too, but let it drop. "Abbey, I… I can't," he said, sounding genuinely sorry. "I have to go the other way, and I'm going to be late."
His eyes looked so sad, it broke my heart. "It's okay, Caspian. Forget about it. I never mentioned it." I lowered my hand. "I'll see you around."
He took a step toward me, but then stopped. "Are you sure?" His face was concerned, and my heart flooded with warmth.
"Yeah," I replied. Then I decided to test the waters. "But you know, if you just so happen to be free tomorrow night, my parents will be gone. They have a town council meeting that they're going to. You could come over… if you wanted…" I blushed again.
He didn't answer me at first, and I tried not to hyperventilate. He was so going to reject me. What had I been thinking?
"Okay," he said fiercely. His eyes looked determined. "What time do you want me?"
Oh, the multitude of meaning behind those words. "Seven fifteen?" I said softly. Am I doing this? Am I really doing this? "The meeting starts at seven and my parents leave about ten minutes early to get there. How does that sound?"
"Sounds like a date," he said, just as softly. "See you then,Abbey."
He put up a hand in farewell as he passed me by, and I did the same. For an instant our hands almost touched. We were two frozen statues with so little, and yet so much, dividing us. But then the moment broke and he was moving on.
And I was walking home alone. Thrilled to the tips of my shiny red boots.
Chapter Seventeen
Mixed Signals
… and though his amorous toyings were something like the gentle caresses and endearments of a bear, yet it was whispered that she did not altogether discourage his hopes.
The Legend of Sleepy Hollow"
I walked back and forth between the front door and the stairs, fixated on the large grandfather clock nearby as time slowly ticked away second by second.
Tuesday evening had finally arrived, and I was a bundle of nerves. Mom and Dad had just left for their meeting, and I felt like I was in overdrive mode. Checking over the whole house, I managed to eliminate anything that might be embarrassing, paying special attention to any stray laundry piles.
:01 rolled around. Then :02. By :03 I was ready to scream. :15 would never get here. My eyes scanned the living room one more time, and then I looked down at my clothes. Was this outfit really the right choice? Should I go change it again? Maybe I should put on a dress.…
The ringing of doorbell chimes echoed through the house and made me jump out of my skin. He was here. My heart began to beat wildly, and I tried to control my breathing. Oh. My. God. He was really here. At my house.
The doorbell chimed again, and I hurried to answer it. This was no big deal. He had been here before-in my room, no less. Not a big deal at all.
As I moved quickly, I wished I had grabbed a couple of breath mints. I tried the hand-to-mouth test, but that didn't really work too well, and the doorbell rang again. If I didn't answer it soon, he was going to think I'd stood him up.
Crossing my fingers, I opened the door.
The hinges creaked eerily as the door swung outward, but Caspian was standing there with a smile on his face. It was snowing, and a few glistening flakes rested on the shoulders of his black coat.
"Hi, Caspian. Come on in," I said nervously. I would not think about Mom and Dad right now, and how they would probably kill me if they knew about this.
He stepped inside and ran his fingers through his hair, dispersing the flakes of snow. "Nice to see you again, Abbey."
I led the way into the living room, unsure of whether or not I should take his coat or leave it up to him. "You too," I said, tucking a stray piece of hair behind one ear. "Do you want to sit down or…?"
"Yeah, sure." After shrugging off his jacket, he folded it up and draped it over the back of the couch before taking a seat. "Is this okay here?" he asked.
"It's fine." Waving my hand in what I hoped was a show of casual disregard, I took a seat on the opposite end of the couch. "I'm just surprised you're actually wearing one." Tugging selfconsciously at my own gray and black striped sweater, I noticed he was wearing a heavy gray rolled-edge sweater and blue jeans.
Silence loomed between us and I tucked my feet up under me, glad that I hadn't put any shoes on. Settling more comfortably ontothe couch, I looked around. The atmosphere was warm, and cozy, and romantic… but I couldn't think of a thing to say.
Caspian was steadfastly studying the room, looking everywhere but at me.
I sighed inwardly. This was not going as planned. Of course, I hadn't exactly made any plans, but I certainly didn't invite him over here to stare at my living room walls. I needed something to talk about no\ "So how was your Thanksgiving?" I ventured. "You said you spent it with your relatives, right?"
He turned to look at me.
"In a manner of speaking," he said slowly. "I went to go see some family that I hadn't visited in a while. It was nice to see them again. I guess you never really know how much time you have left, so it's good to catch up every now and then."
Well, that was just a little bit morbid. "Um, yeah, I guess you don't. So, did you do turkey at the relative's house, or yours? I mean, if you guys even make a turkey. I don't know, maybe your family likes ham for Thanksgiving. Or tofu burgers, if you're a vegetarian. Are you a vegetarian?"
He grinned and shook his head. "No, I'm not a vegetarian. We usually do turkey at anyone's house but our own. Dad's not the greatest cook in the world. He does okay with cooking out and ordering in, but turkey is a bit of a stretch."
"Is it just you and your dad, then?" I asked hesitantly. "Youhaven't mentioned your mom."
He toyed with the fringed edges of a blanket resting next to him on the arm of the couch. "Yup. Just me and Dad. My mom took off when I was a baby, and I haven't seen her since. Dad never talks about her. I don't have any idea where she is."
I looked down at my jeans and pulled off a nonexistent piece of fuzz. My parents weren't really home all that often, but I always knew they'd be there for me. I couldn't imagine what it would feel like to have one parent taking off like that. Caspian had probably grown up wondering if it was somehow his fault that she'd left.
"I'm sure she thought she had a good reason." I didn't look up from my imaginary fuzz. "There was nothing you could have done to stop her. And nothing you did made her choose to leave." I glanced at him then, and he was staring off into the distance with a strange look in his eyes.
"I know," he said softly. "But still, sometimes I wonder if…" He didn't finish, and it was almost like he wasn't talking to me. It sent a shiver down my spine, and I wanted to bring him back to the here and now, with me.
"Didn't you say before that your dad is a mechanic? And he was getting his own shop?" That brought him out of his daze, and he looked over at me again.
"Yeah, Dad will take over the shop as soon as the owner retires. I drew up some of the floor plans for him so he could have a visual."
"What's the name of his place?" I asked. "Is it around here?" Then a word he had said stuck o
ut to me. "Wait, what? You drew the floor plans for him?"
He nodded, looking pleased with himself. "Yeah, I drew the floor plans for him. Mike, the owner, does auto repair right now, but Dad plans to change it to more of an auto body store, and stock it with stuff to customize cars. He has some really great ideas."
"Ohhhh." I was getting lost in all of the car talk. They really weren't my thing. "So you're kind of a car person, then?"
A look of surprise crossed his face. "Me? No. No way. My dad is the one into cars. Although I do like using a blow torch every now and then, I'm more into my art. Much to his everlasting dismay," he added ruefully.
I perked up. "Do you have an artwork portfolio or anything?"
"I have my collection from when I worked in a tattoo shop. Before we moved here, I designed some stuff for them." He looked happy now; his eyes were blazing with pride.
That piece of news was very interesting. "A tattoo shop?" I stretched my legs out from under me and moved closer to him on the couch. "Wow. You've had quite the exciting life." I tried to give him my best you're-so-sexy-and-I'm-impressed look, but I don't think it worked.
He just laughed and ran his fingers through his hair again. "Idon't know if I'd call my life exciting, but it was cool."
"Were you drawing in the cemetery that one day? Your hands were all black."
He looked away for a minute, and I thought I saw a slight blush rise to his cheeks. But it could have been the room. It was getting pretty warm in here.
"You must have seen the charcoal," he said. "When I draw, I use charcoal. I picked up the habit making sketches for the tattoos, and then I just stuck with it. I like the texture it gives me. The only drawback is that I forget to wash my hands afterward a lot."
So that was what the blush was for? Because he was admitting he didn't wash his hands? I thought it was like some guy requirement to be dirty most of the time. But I didn't want him to feel bad, so I admitted, "I get pretty caught up with my perfumes, too. When I'm not careful, I can spill my oils, and no amount of washing will get that smell out."
He gave me a half smile, and the room felt like it shot up to 112 degrees. Good Lord, it's warm in here. Desperate for a cool breeze, I thought about cracking open the door but decided against it. I went to look out the window instead, using the pretense of watching the still falling snow so that I could feel the coolness of the window pane.
"Does getting a tattoo hurt?" I asked, turning back to him after a minute of faux snow gazing. "Do you have any?"
He stretched out his legs underneath the coffee table in front of him and shifted slightly to face me. "I can't speak for anyone else, but mine didn't hurt. I felt a slight pressure, and then a dull sting, but it didn't really hurt. It all depends on where you get them placed, who's doing it, and what your pain threshold is."
I put my hand against the window pane and felt the coolness seep into my skin. "Where do you… have yours?" I asked the window in front of me, too shy to face him.
"Two of them are on my back, and another one is on my left arm."
My window trick suddenly stopped working, and I decided to be bold. I walked back over to the couch. "Can I see them?"
Caspian looked startled. I waited, considering whether or not I should just laugh it off as a joke or tell him to forget about it. But I didn't want to forget about it. There was a lot that I… wanted. It was time to see if he wanted any of those things too.
He didn't answer me, but held my gaze intently as he stood up and slowly started to reach for the bottom of his sweater. He turned around and lifted it up over his shoulders, and I forgot how to breathe. The sweater slid off of him in one long smooth motion and messed up his hair, leaving it tousled and sexy-looking.
An interlocking chain of small black circles and triangles was etched onto each shoulder blade, ending halfway down his back. It was a beautiful design that looked both enticing and exotic, and Iached to put one hand out and trace it. He turned back around to face me, and his green eyes stared right through me.
I broke his gaze and looked down, gulping hard. His chest was muscular, but not bulky, and his hips were lean. A fine trail of pale blond hair ran down from his belly button and disappeared underneath the waistband of his jeans. I gulped again and tried very hard not to drool.
He lifted up his arm to show me the black interlocking circles tattooed there. "I've always been fascinated with patterns," he said while staring down at it. "With circles, there's no beginning and no end. It just goes on forever. I like that."
I heard my heartbeat echo loudly around us as I dragged in each suddenly painful breath.
"Do you have any tattoos, Abbey?" he whispered.
"Not yet," I said. "Where do you think I should get one?"
Without any effort, we seemed to have gotten closer to each other. The room grew hotter again. My eyes dropped involuntarily to his bare chest and I pictured myself running a finger over that tattooed design. Then I looked at him again and put everything I felt, and everything I wanted to do, behind that look.
He shuddered and closed his eyes. The moment was powerful, and so overwhelming that I closed my eyes too. He had to know. He had to have seen how I felt about him. I couldn't give off any clearer of a signal. I wanted him to kiss me now.
I felt a sudden breeze wash over me, and I shivered in the cold draft. My eyes flew open, and I watched as he pulled his sweater back on. I could sense reluctance about him now. "Why?" I cried out. "Why do you do this? Is it me? Is there something about me? I thought you, that we felt…" I sighed out of sheer frustration and stood there waiting for his answer. He didn't say anything.
"Do you not like me? Because I thought after that kiss in the library, and the necklace, and all the times we've met… and prom night! You were in my room on prom night! I thought maybe you lov-" I broke off and looked down at the floor. I was babbling. Again.
"Abbey, I'm sorry. That's all I can say." Looking at me with sorrow in his eyes, he tried to explain. "I don't mean to be this way. I just don't know how to… Forgive me, Astrid."
An apology and my special name? It was hard to stay mad at that. "Forgive you for what, Caspian? For acting like you like me when you really don't? I just don't get you sometimes. You take two steps forward and then five back. You act like you want me to get home safely, but won't walk me there. We never meet anywhere normal, like a restaurant, or a mall, and you always have to be 'somewhere else.' What's going on? Do you want to be with me or not?"
Hot tears filled my eyes, but I refused to look away. I wantedhim to see all the hurt and confusion I was feeling. Then maybe I'd get a straight answer.
He turned away and started pacing between the couch and an armchair. Back and forth he went. "Please don't cry, Astrid," he begged. "I'm not worth that. I'm sorry. Really, I am. Things are just complicated right now. It's not that I don't… I do want to be with you. I didn't mean to give you mixed signals. I just need you to work with me somehow. Give me some time to figure it all out. Let's take it slow."
Take it slow. The kiss of death. I suddenly remembered Ben's words from another time and place, and understood exactly what he meant. This felt suspiciously like a dumping that wasn't really, but really was.
But my heart wanted Caspian, and was willing to do whatever he asked.
"Okay." I nodded, blinking away the tears. "Okay, we can take it slow." I laughed shakily and tried not to think about what page we were on now. That path was way too confusing. "Do you want anything to eat? Or drink? I'm going to the kitchen. I'm starving." I waited for his reply, but he shook his head.
Walking into the kitchen took a lot of effort, and I breathed deeply, trying to compose myself. This was just one teeny, tiny hurdle to get over. No big deal. I grabbed a can of soda out of the fridge and put it on the counter before crossing over to thecupboards. I ended up passing on everything inside. My appetite was suddenly gone. I wasn't even all that thirsty, but I needed some sort of an excuse to go calm myself down.
O
n my way back to retrieve the soda, I came to a halt when I saw my reflection in the microwave door. My eyes were wide and my cheeks were pale. I patted my face, and then pinched both cheeks to bring some color into them. Running a hand through my wild curls, I fluffed and rearranged them. It wasn't a miracle, but it helped a little.
Squaring my shoulders, I stood up straight and marched into the living room, drink in hand. Caspian was by the window looking out at the snow, and I sat down on the couch while simultaneously popping the top of my can. "Did I tell you that my uncle wants me to work in his ice cream shop?" Changing the subject was the only thing I could think of.
I took a large, but still ladylike, sip from the soda can and continued on. "I'm going to be keeping his office for him. Or something like that. We haven't quite worked out all the details yet, but I'm supposed to start this weekend."
Caspian turned away from the window and came to sit back down on the couch, keeping a large distance between us. I tried not to let that sting.
"That's great, Abbey," he said. "I know you'll do a good job."
I sat up and placed the now forgotten soda can on the coffeetable. "Do you think so? I mean, Fm really worried. What if I screw something up? This is an actual business here, not just one Fve thought about in my head. What if I can't do it?" I hadn't really given much voice to my fears, but they were right there, bubbling under the surface.
"You'll be able to handle it," he assured me. "I have faith in you, Abbey. You won't screw it up, and it'll give you practice for when you're ready to open Abbey's Hollow."
I leaned back against the couch, wondering if I would ever see that day. It seemed so far off. And how did he have a way of making me feel so comfortable again?
"You know, Fve been working on this idea for a new line of perfumes." Excitement filled my voice. "It's based on 'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,' and each character has a unique scent. But not only do the characters get scents, so do the feelings, emotions, and settings. I had planned to-" The sound of a key at the front door stopped me cold.
The Hollow Page 21
