I had a feeling I was in the middle of some sort of dispute between Cayden and his brother. They discussed me as though I were not even in the room. In that moment, something in me boiled up to the surface.
“Listen,” I blurted out. “I look like something the cat dragged in, and I know it. I am sorry you had to see me this way. You both must think I am crazy and, well, maybe I am. I know what it must look like, last night and this morning. I know you are both trying to be nice to me, but you really needn’t bother.”
My comments seemed to bring them both up short. I am unsure if it was the stressful breaks of my own sanity, the lack of sleep or the tension I felt between Cayden and Chandler, but it sounded like I was mad. The tone in my voice even surprised me. Cayden gave his brother a look. His lips pressed together in a hard line while his brow furrowed, giving that crinkling expression of anger. Even angry he’s breathtakingly beautiful. The chill I experienced earlier returned at seeing Cayden’s dark glare.
Chandler grinned at his brother, with a tilt to his head. It was the kind of expression which said sorry. Devoid of comment, they both looked back at me. I realized I had crossed my arms, which pressed my breasts up beneath my cotton tank. Then I noticed I had nipples. Well, call me the nipple queen, I thought, disgusted. Both brothers seemed to detect my condition at the same time. Chandler’s gaze lingered while Cayden’s eyes shot to my well appoint nips before he moved his baby blues to my face.
“Would you like us to leave?” Cayden asked.
“No.”
I closed my eyes for a moment then dropped my arms. I tried to be inconspicuous about adjusting my tank top. It rode up with the crossing of my arms and was showing off my bare midriff.
“I am sorry, please.” I muttered while looking down at my bare feet.
Cayden’s voice called to me, “Winter.” I did not want to look up at him, but I did. “Please, I do not want to upset you.”
“I am not upset. It’s not you. There are things about you that—” What was I doing? I could not tell him about Austin or my life.
“I look like Austin,” he said softly.
This comment surprised me, but I did call him Austin in my confusion last night so he was probably curious.
“Yes,” I admitted, looking down again.
I felt Cayden’s fingers move back a piece of my hair. He placed his hand under my chin and lifted my face to meet his gaze. This was more than I could take. He unlatched the lock with his touch, permitting my tears to fall down my face.
“You loved him,” he said. Cayden said this as a statement, not a question while he wiped the tears from my cheek.
“Yes. I will always love him,” I whispered.
Cayden’s voice was velvety-soft, even, and dripped like honey from a spoon. “Winter, tell me about Austin.”
Moving only my eyes, I looked for Chandler. My face remained unmovable, held firm in Cayden’s hand. I heard the door to my room close, so I knew Chandler had left. I brought my eyes back to Cayden’s face. Immediately overwhelmed with memories, sadness, desire, need, conflict.
“I….” More tears fell.
“I am sorry. Please, do not cry.”
Cayden dropped his hand from my face so I dropped my face from his piercing gaze.
“It’s hard to talk about. Hard to explain,” I admitted.
“Please.”
“Cayden….” I paused then admitted, “Seeing you hurts.” A part of me surprised at my honesty.
Cayden’s angel’s face looked pained. He reached for me. I closed my eyes but I did not feel his touch.
“I do not want to hurt you, but I need to know you,” he said.
Seeing the haunting eyes which pierced me through, it was a struggle to speak with him. In an effort for self-preservation, I turned my back to Cayden. I found my voice.
“It is not your fault. I know you do not mean to hurt me. You cannot help it. You are who you are. It is me. I am the problem. I have no idea who I am when I look at you. I am not sure I can….” I stopped myself from speaking. I felt Cayden close behind me. The closeness, the proximity, the warmth of his body sent me into another round of tears. I grabbed at my waist and wrapped my arms tight around my stomach in a poor attempt to hold myself together. I knew my attempt would be a useless effort, but I had to try.
“Winter,” he whispered.
His hand swiped down the length of my arm.
“Please,” I cried. “Why do you need to know me? I cannot do this. I don’t know how to…I have been alone for sixteen years and can’t…I shouldn’t…I’m…You’re…This….”
I could not make sense of what I was saying. So much about Cayden, even his touch, was like Austin. How could I be so hopelessly attached with this man, a stranger?
Winter, he’s not Austin.
Cayden’s voice was at my ear. “Me too,” he said softly. “I have been alone, too. I don’t know how to do this either. I should not put you through this, hurt you, but I have to be near you.”
“Cayden.” I sobbed, feeling my body rock with pain, hurt, loss.
“Winter,” he said, his voice sounding distraught. “I will do whatever it takes for you. Whatever you need, even if that means leaving this room, walking out of your life and never bothering you again, but please understand leaving you would hurt me.”
Cayden stopped talking. I heard his low sigh then silence. The room was bathed in need.
A breath, a heartbeat….
“Winter, while I may hurt you I would never mean to do so. I would rather die than hurt you.”
“Never say that!” I protested his words with vehemence.
“It is true. While I may remind you of someone that you loved, someone whom you still love, you remind me of someone I love. Someone I have missed, grieved for, longed for without ever knowing. Someone I have loved without ever seeing until last night.”
“I don’t understand,” I confessed, totally confused at the direction of this conversation.
“Neither do I,” he admitted then his voice became as soft as a whisper. “Winter, you, your name, maybe it is best to say pieces of you has somehow always been a part of me. This is hard to explain, hard to understand because I have never understood completely. You keep saying I will think you are crazy because I remind you of someone you loved. I can see the pain in your eyes when you look at me, the pain I cause you, and that pain, your pain, hurts me.”
Cayden’s hand brushed across my shoulder blade.
“But—”
“I do understand better than you may think because while you believe you are haunted by me. I know I am haunted by you.”
I shook my head in disbelief. What is he saying?
“For years now I wake, sometimes in the middle of the night, with your name on my lips. Winter, Winter, Winter…” Cayden said my name over and over and it echoed true. “And then a few years ago someone gave me a book, your first book. I have no explanation for how this is possible or how to truly explain to you what I felt when I saw your name as the author. Seeing your name printed on the cover of that book, I froze. When I read your book, well the best I can explain is, it touched me. I began to know you somehow. The color of your eyes, the dark emerald color filled my vision, yet I had never seen you. Your written words, your name, and your beautiful eyes were all I had until last night. I have clung to that, missing you as though you were lost to me, but never knowing you or understanding how I lost you. I have struggled with this, Winter. Without understanding, I have kept your name and the perfect emerald color of your eyes with me, never sure, never understanding, only knowing I needed to see you, meet you. So you see, while I do not understand why, I do know with absolute certainty I am supposed to know you. Please, do not send me away.”
Standing at the window with my back toward him, I looked out yet could see nothing. Silently I stood. I tried to comprehend the words in which he spoke to me. As they clicked together in my head, I thought I would shatter from this information. Perhaps the only thing which did k
eep me together in this moment was Cayden himself. I could feel Cayden’s arms reach out for my body. He wrapped them around me. His arms were strong, steady, and reassuring to me. Cayden was not hesitant with me. He held me as though he had always done so. This feeling, the reassurance, tore at the fault lines in my heart. The strength of his arms slashed at the weakness of my flesh. The knowledge of his touch scratched at the memories in my mind.
I broke down, the sobs ripping through my body. I turned around, still sobbing, but I couldn’t allow myself to look up into his face, so I pressed my face into his muscular chest. I took in the scent of his cologne which mixed into the aroma his skin. The smell of his skin, the soap he used, the cologne he wore all melted together causing me to completely dissolve into his body. Springtime rain, fresh and inviting, with a mix of sweet tempting musk and a bite of hot spice. These scents raged through my senses. The same fragrance of my past, something which I thought vacant, lost to me forever.
The sweet decadent sensation of Cayden’s scent burned like flames licking up my throat. The flicker of the burn sent the memory of me standing on my tiptoes, my arms draped around Austin’s strong neck, breathing in the smell of Austin’s coat collar. And just as the mythical Phoenix rose from the ashes, my memories flew up from those ashes, fiery cinders, lighting the way.
I remembered pressing my nose into Austin’s neck when he made love to me. The smell set me blazing. Cayden’s cologne, Austin’s cologne, overtook my faulty being. Was there nothing about Cayden which would not haunt me? My fingers grasped at his shirt. His hold tightened. I felt his body, relax, stiffen then relax.
We stood in silence without words while my sobs quieted. My salty tears completely soaked Cayden’s pale gray T-shirt. I swiped a hand over my cheek, sniffled, but another round of weeping started when he rubbed slow, soothing circles on my back. He held me, tight. I continued to cry into his willing chest. Minutes passed this way when I felt his hand run down through my hair. He set the knot free from the back of my neck. His fingers, gentle but familiar, ran the length of my hair until he found the small of my back. I shivered in his arms, fighting hard to deny what I was feeling. I tried to find the strength to tell Cayden to leave me. The denial for what I felt rang strong.
This is not Austin….
“Not Austin,” I muttered. Surprised to hear my voice. “I am so sorry.” I hid my face farther into Cayden’s chest. “This is not fair to you.”
I continued to cry. In truth, I was unsure if I would or could ever stop crying.
“No. It is not fair to you. I am so sorry I hurt you. If I….” Cayden hesitated. He took in a deep breath.
“What?” I asked. Unable to pull my face from his chest, I felt his apprehension.
“If I wasn’t so cruel, so completely selfish, I would walk away from you. I would stop this pain for you, but I am selfish. I see just how much I am hurting you. I….” Cayden’s voice became a whisper. “I cannot walk away. I can never walk away from you. Austin was a fortunate man to have you, your love. I don’t understand how he could walk away from you, Winter. How could he ever leave you?”
The moment broke. The silence pierced by the ringing of Cayden’s cell phone. It allowed me a minute of clarity. When I pulled myself free from Cayden’s arms, I was able to move back from him. I looked away from his face, youthful in addition to beautiful beyond belief.
“You need to answer that,” I said in a whisper.
“It’s not important,” he replied.
“Cayden, you should answer,” I insisted. I lifted my eyes back to his face.
A look of pain flickered across his features. His brow creased in deep furrows then his face went perfectly smooth. He flipped open his phone, ran his fingers through his hair then proceeded to say, “Hello.”
Chapter Twelve
WALK AWAY
Released from his gaze, I walked away from him and gathered my composure. It took a moment to come back into my current reality, but once back I knew the necessity of finding a way to stay away from Cayden Cain. While part of me wanted to live within the dream, allow myself to believe a lie by living a life in the past with Austin, I just could not. Cayden, though almost a carbon copy of Austin, wasn’t Austin nor could he ever be.
I needed to come to grips with the cold hard facts. The facts were Austin died sixteen years ago, and my life was no longer the same. And how could I overlook Cayden’s age? The visible difference between us would always remain. It’s impossible to hide the fact he’s fifteen years younger than me. Besides, he lived a life which was not my life. His life was one of, notoriety, wealth, fame, and surrounded by cameras, people clamoring for his attentions, and many, many beautiful women. So while something about my books may have captured him, he did not know me. The truth, nothing about me could ever truly capture Cayden.
Cayden paced across my room, cell phone in one hand with his other hand finding his hair. I witnessed him do something I saw Austin do a thousand times. Anxiously run his fingers through his hair while talking to someone about doing something he really did not want to do, but in the end he would do. I shook the thought, and reminded myself while Cayden knew my name, the color of my eyes; this could be due to my books. Yes, that’s it. All my heroines have dark green eyes. But then there’s my name. Logically, Cayden picked it up from my book. Cayden could not have really known my name before actually seeing it printed across the cover.
Cayden lives in a world which is not your world, Winter. The facts are I cannot find my life in Cayden’s life nor relive a life I never had. While I cannot deny the pull, the need to stay with Cayden and pretend, the facts are I am here to do a job, and I must get started. The sooner I finish this temporary obligation the sooner I can get back to the safety of my life in Colorado, leaving this life in New York where it belongs. This pretend, this pretense of a life in which I never lived.
I did not have time for distractions, not to mention dangerous distractions at that. I’d been playing with fire and could not allow the burn. If I did not stay away from Cayden, there would only be ensuing danger. Oh yes, the danger of dying all over again.
I cannot survive him. I’m not strong enough. Of this thought, I was absolutely positive.
Cayden’s silk ridden voice broke through my thoughts. “Winter.”
I turned to look at him, sadness filled me. “Yes?”
“I am sorry. I am late for a meeting but—”
“You need to go,” I said.
“I can cancel. Melissa can re-schedule the interviews.”
“No, please do not. You have things which are important and—”
“Winter, you are important, everything else is secondary.”
I felt my face turn ashen. It was true, my fear. Nothing about Cayden would leave me free from Austin’s ghost.
“I….” I stared at the floor and balled my shaking hands into fists at my sides.
“Winter,” Cayden called out to me. Chills ran over the surface of my skin. “Please look at me.” And with his request, I did. I lifted my eyes from the floor, gazing into his eyes. “I can stay.”
I gathered my composure. “Please, do not cancel your interviews.”
Cayden sighed, took two steps forward, then slowly he brushed his hand down the length of my arm. “I won’t cancel my interviews if you have dinner with me tonight.”
I glanced down. I could not look into his eyes.
“I am not sure that would be a good idea,” I mumbled.
“Please, Winter.” Once again he lifted my chin up. He wanted me to see him. “Please, do not say no.”
“Cayden. I.” I tried to tell him no, but I could not get past the look upon his face. “Um…I-I.” I started to waiver from my earlier thoughts of staying away from him.
“Please,” he said. He moved his hand from my chin, allowing his fingertip to graze the length of my cheek. His eyes were pleading, heartbreaking. “We can go anywhere you want. Even stay in if that is your wish; just say you will have dinner wi
th me tonight.”
“Um….” I stuttered. Then bit my bottom lip.
Cayden leaned down. His mouth was so close to my ear I felt the warmth of his breath gust against the soft skin of my neck. “Please,” he whispered.
Chills rushed over my skin again.
“Okay,” I muttered, biting the inside of my cheek.
I am so stupid. Why can’t I walk away?
Dawn broke over his face with the beautiful wide smile of a seraph.
“Six o’clock then.” I nodded in agreement. “Where would you like to go?”
“You decide,” I said quietly.
“All right, I will see you tonight,” Cayden replied, still smiling. His smile tugged at my heart. “Please, get some rest.” He softly passed his fingertip along the hollow of my eye while he gazed at me. I stood completely still. Caught in his gaze like a moth to a flame. I watched Cayden give a slight jaunty tilt of his head. I thought he might kiss me. “Tonight,” he whispered across my lips.
I closed my eyes then like waking from a dream, he was gone.
Touching my lips, I felt his warmth still lingering in a ghost-like whisper. Distraction. Yes, that is exactly what I needed. To find a distraction. I had to think about something else. Everything about Cayden haunted me. In truth, he would leave no memory dormant within my thoughts or within my heart. I was coming apart at the seams, unfolding, but I could no longer think about Austin, Cayden, or the crazy unbelievable situation I found myself in. I had to give my mind a break from all the insanity or I would truly lose what little part of me which lingered.
Twirling around to the desk, I picked up the script, and found a pen. I sat down at the laptop. I would find an escape within the script, and the world I could create through the written word. It has always been Winter Wells who held the power to create an alternative universe other than the one I found myself in, so I used that power to leave Winter Perri behind.
Finding the distraction I needed, I wrote, and continued to write through lunch, only taking a necessary break to go to the bathroom where I splashed water on my face. I had not rested, not slept, I just wrote, making notes on the script then turned to type into the word program on the laptop. When the room darkened from the earlier brightness, I did take notice. The sun obviously changed position in the sky as it sent dark and light shadows across the floor. The light beamed in through the open windows and sent a strange dusky orange color through the room. This caught my attention. I glanced at the clock in the bottom right corner of my laptop to see the time. Four forty-five in the evening. I should cancel dinner with Cayden, I thought.
Requiem Page 10
