We were two broken souls, desperately trying to put ourselves back together.
But not everything could be fixed.
⌘⌘⌘
“Are you okay?” Daphne’s voice broke through my thoughts.
I shook my head, jolting myself back to reality. We were at the same restaurant we’d had lunch at before. I swirled a fry in ketchup before forcing myself to nibble on it.
I wore a floppy black hat on my head to block the sun. It also provided excellent coverage from Daphne’s curious gaze.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I didn’t get a lot of sleep.” More like none at all. After lying in bed for hours, unable to fall asleep, I’d gotten out of bed and showered. Then I asked Daphne to lunch, which turned out to be a very bad idea.
“Is this about Callie?”
“Who?” I finally looked up at her.
“I thought that would get your attention,” she smirked. “Callie, Cael, Caelan, Gregory, whatever you want to call him,” she winked, taking a sip of wine, despite the fact that it was the afternoon and hardly an appropriate beverage to have at this time. She propped her elbow on the table and her head on her hand. “I assume something happened with him to make you so mopey. You’re not normally like this.”
I narrowed my eyes. I was never rainbows and sunshine, so what the fuck did she mean I wasn’t normally like this?
As I stared her down she started to squirm. “Okay!” She surrendered, throwing her hands in the air. “It sounded like he was throwing stuff in his apartment, which is normal, but then we heard his door open and close while the banging was still happening. That’s not normal.” Chewing on her lip, and looking around, she added, “So I kind of opened the door and caught you going home.”
Shit.
I was caught now. I couldn’t lie.
“Caelan doesn’t sleep with anyone that lives here,” she eyed me with a deadly gaze, but I refused to wither, “Lord knows I’ve tried to get that man to do me. He might be fucking crazy, but he’s hot as hell, and I’d love to know what he’s hiding under all those dirty paint stained jeans. So spill, girl,” she leaned forward, trying to create a bubble around us.
“There’s nothing to tell,” I insisted, lowering my sunglasses to hide my eyes.
“You slut!” She cried, causing heads to turn our way and more than one man to take notice. Look the other way fellas, these goods were not for sale. “You can’t fuck the resident bad boy and not give your best friend the details! I need to know!”
I sent withering glares at the people staring. God, couldn’t people mind their own damn business? My sex life, non-existent at that, was not news worthy information.
“Nothing happened!” I insisted. Glaring at a man that had started over to our table, I held up a hand and said, “Look elsewhere bud, no free blowjobs here.” His steps halted and he returned to his table of buddies, all of who laughed hysterically at how I shut him down. Seriously, I didn’t know why if a dude heard a girl say the word sex, they suddenly thought she was down to do it with anybody. Honestly, men could be the stupidest creatures on the planet.
“You’re such a liar,” Daphne whispered. “You can tell me! Please?” She pouted, clasping her hands together. “Who am I going to tell? Until you came along I didn’t have any friends.”
That caused me to pause. “What?”
She frowned, looking down at the table and tracing a grain in the wood. “Well, yeah, you’re like my only friend. Besides Frankie, but he’s my brother so he has to like me, therefore he doesn’t count.”
“You have friends.”
“No, I don’t,” she shook her head sadly. “I have acquaintances but not friends,” she shrugged, like as if the topic didn’t bother her, but I could tell it did.
I instantly felt bad for being such a lousy person and not spending more time with her. She was clearly lonely.
I reached over and placed my hand over hers in a comforting gesture. “Well, it’s a good thing you have me then. I’m so fucking awesome that you don’t need anyone else.”
She grinned at that and I felt a little lighter.
Eating another fry, I said, “We didn’t have sex—” She opened her mouth to cut me off but I shushed her. “But,” I added, giving her a warning look, lest she interrupt me again, “there was some touching involved.”
She almost fell out of her seat at that. “You or him?
“He touched me,” I whispered, and found myself squirming—not typical behavior for me.
“Oh. My. God.” She fanned herself dramatically, licking her lips. “What I wouldn’t give for that man to touch me.”
I eyed her.
“What?” She laughed. “Every girl has to have at least one bad boy in her life, and that man has dangerous written all over him. Was it good?” She asked, bouncing in her seat a bit. Clearly she wasn’t lying about not having friends, because I didn’t see how this was the least bit interesting.
“Mind-blowing,” I replied, taking a sip of water to cool down my racy thoughts.
“So,” she frowned, “what happened to set him off? Giving a girl a so-called mind-blowing orgasm doesn’t seem like a reason to start breaking stuff.”
I stiffened in my seat. I couldn’t tell her that he hurt me. I’d been lucky that today was slightly windy and I was able to wear a light sweater to hide the bruises without anyone being suspicious. I shrugged. “You know him better than I do. He gets mad for no reason a lot.”
“That’s true,” her lips puckered in a frown, “but it sounds like things were getting pretty steamy, so what’s there to get pissed about? Oh! Could he not get it up?!” Her eyes lit thinking she’d guessed right.
I was too busy snickering over her high schoolish term. Finally I regained control of myself and said, “Trust me, he was primed and ready.” I wiped away a tear of laughter.
“Oh,” her face fell. Eventually she shrugged. “You’re right. He is weird.”
Luckily she dropped the conversation after that. Unfortunately for her, I was no longer quite there with her. My thoughts were circling around Caelan. I couldn’t understand why he had stopped and lost his cool like that. Sex was sex, right? I knew from the other people living there that he was hardly a monk and since I’d moved in, I’d heard at least two women sneak out of his apartment. I didn’t like to think about that though. I knew that whatever this sick, twisted relationship of ours was, that it wasn’t exclusive. Or even really a relationship at all, so he was free to sleep with whomever he wanted. It sure didn’t keep him from messing with my sex life though. He’d had no problem hauling me over his shoulder cave man style and taking me away from Memphis. Cock blocker.
“I have to go,” I stood suddenly, grabbing my purse and slinging it across my body.
“O-okay?” Daphne said, her brows furrowing together.
Slapping some cash on the table to cover my meal, I said, “This was great. We should make this a weekly thing or something.”
Before she could reply, I jogged down the deck steps and onto the street.
I knew exactly where I was headed.
The bar was only a few blocks from the restaurant, so it took me no time to get there. I busted inside, striding forward purposefully. I was a woman on a mission and no one better dare try to detain me.
“Ma’am we’re not open yet, you can’t be here,” a waiter warned, trying to grab my arm to steer me away.
I skidded around him, ignoring his calls to stop.
The guy I searched for looked up at my approach.
“Sutton, what are—”
I climbed on a barstool, leaned forward, and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.
I had to know.
It was wrong to use Memphis like this, but I could barely remember our kiss the other night, and I needed to see if kissing him was as good as kissing Caelan.
His eyes widened as my body splayed over the counter and my lips connected with his.
The other workers in the bar, preparing for openin
g hours, cheered at the display. I wondered if they’d be cheering if they knew the real reason I was kissing Memphis so passionately.
My tongue grazed his lips and his mouth parted, his teeth tugging lightly on my bottom lip. The kiss was certainly hot enough, and I did feel something, but nothing like the storm that raged through my body with a single look from Caelan.
I pulled away, ending the kiss. My forehead was pressed against his as we both panted. Finally, my head rose and I pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
His eyes closed and a shadow of pain flickered over his face.
He knew.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated once more before I pushed myself off the chair and ran out of the bar, impervious to the looks of bewilderment from the staff.
I had used Memphis to make a point to myself. It had been wrong to drag him into the middle of this, but I had to be sure.
I was upset at myself for my silly, spur of the moment, decision, but I’d had to know if I was imagining things with Caelan.
With my head ducked, I walked at a brisk pace back to the apartment building. I was a woman on a mission.
I jogged up the steps of the building, my purse thumping steadily against my thigh—thumping just as hard and fast as my racing heart.
I was taking the bull by the horns here.
I stopped outside Caelan’s door. My pulse jumped in my throat, a nervous and irritating flutter.
He’d stopped things this morning, but that wasn’t happening anymore.
We were destined. Yeah, I knew that totally sounded ridiculous, like I was under some kind of love spell or some other shit. But it was true.
I believed that in our lifetime, there were certain people we were meant to meet and that they could have a profound effect on our lives if we let them.
Okay, that sounded even sillier than the fact that I believed we were destined.
Clearly, I’d been watching too many fucking Hallmark movies.
Taking a deep breath, I poised my hand above the wooden door, preparing to knock. Only this time, unlike that moment several weeks ago, I wouldn’t be running away.
I was seizing the moment…well, more like making the moment.
I squared my shoulders, and knocked.
CHAPTER 11
Caelan
I raised the bottle to my lips, taking a drink of the bourbon. I tilted my head to the side, studying the painting in front of me. I frowned, anger simmering inside me. I couldn’t seem to get her lips right. They weren’t as plump looking on canvas as they were in person. I also struggled to get the right shade of blue for her eyes.
For so long, unless it was a commission piece, all I had painted was Cayla. Her image haunted my nightmares—a beautiful life cut so short. I carried an immense amount of guilt for her death. If one of us was going to die, it should have been me. Not her. She was so bright and happy, the kind of person who lit up a room. Compared to her, I was nothing but a poser. Looking back on that night, I’d wished a million times that I had let her come to The Cove with me. I could have spared her a tragic fate with one decision. I knew deep down, in what was left of my twisted and tortured soul, that if Cayla had lived, I wouldn’t have descended into this never-ending spinning hole of madness. She wouldn’t have let me.
But the image in front of me wasn’t of Cayla.
It was Sutton.
Now, she was the one overtaking my nightmares. She was always there, hovering in my mind. Day or night. I had become addicted to her, and I’d barely had one hit. She was a dangerous and powerful toxin for my bloodstream, because she didn’t dull me. She made me feel alive.
I wiped the paint that had gotten on my fingers onto my jeans.
I swirled the brush in the cup of water, contemplating what I needed to do to fix the lips and get them right.
A little voice in my head told me I could always “study” them up close and personal.
I wanted to agree with the voice in my head, but after how I’d hurt her this morning I doubted she’d ever come near me again. My true colors had really shown through then. I hated to admit it, even to myself, but it had scared the crap out of me. I hadn’t been myself, not at all.
A knock on the door sounded, jostling me from my thoughts. I took another swig of the bourbon and set it down along with the paintbrush.
Sighing, I raked a hand through my hair.
Unlike normal, I wasn’t angry at being disturbed. I was too tired.
I opened the door and my mouth fell open as I looked down at the petite, raven-haired, woman standing in the hall.
My heart picked up speed in my chest.
The last time I’d felt this…overwhelming need and desire for someone was the night I lost my family.
Somehow, Sutton was resurfacing the Caelan I’d believed to be long gone.
I stood there, looking at her, unsure of what to do or what to say.
She made the decision for me.
She pushed past me, into the apartment and stood there. “Close the door,” she said calmly. “I have some things I want to say to you and you’re going to listen.”
I nodded, surprising her and myself, by listening to her instructions. I closed the door and stood in front of her. A few feet separated us. It was like she needed space to speak.
Taking a deep breath, she dropped her purse on the ground, as if it was weighing her down and she needed to rid herself of it before she sank.
“I’m not scared of you,” she said slowly. “I know you think I am after what happened, and if I was a sane person I would be, but I’m not sane Caelan. I’ve been through things too,” tears pricked her eyes but she dammed them back. “You and I, we need each other. I know you feel it too, so don’t you dare try to fucking contradict me. I know we’re fucked up and neither of us is whole,” she bit her lip, “we’re a mess, Caelan. Together we’re like a damn war. I know in a war there are casualties, but fuck it if I don’t want to try.” She took a deep breath. “I know I should stay far away from you, but I can’t. I know you think you’re nothing but a druggie and a bad person, but you’re not Caelan! There are a lot worse people out there than you!” She spoke with such passion that my heart clenched in—what was that? Pity? Remorse? I couldn’t understand it. But I realized that Sutton had been through a lot. Maybe, just as much as me. Spreading her arms out, she continued, “Anyone can be a villain, but not everyone can be a hero. I’m not asking you to change for me, or to even date me,” she laughed humorlessly. “I just want you to stop denying this undeniable cosmic connection we have. It’s real!” She stomped her foot. “It’s fucking real.” Her voice softened and her breath gusted between her parted lips.
I didn’t know what to say.
But I knew what to do.
I’d been alone for so damn long, and God if it didn’t feel right with her. She got me. No one else did.
I closed the gap between us, claiming her lips with mine.
She was stunned at first, but slowly her body responded to mine. A small moan escaped her and it sent all the blood in my body rushing south. I cupped the back of her neck in one hand, and the other pressed against her slender waist, causing her body to melt into mine.
Her fingers curled in my hair, wrapping around the small strands, as she surrendered herself to me.
I knew then, that she was mine for the taking.
To cherish.
To worship.
To bend.
To break.
I would take whatever she gave me, for as long as she’d give it, until I fucked it up.
Her arms draped around my neck and she jumped slightly, her legs wrapping around my waist.
I grasped her slender hips and carried her to my bed, lowering her down with my body over hers.
I kissed her deeply, with all the heart I had left inside me, which granted, wasn’t much. I only hoped it was enough to be worthy of this beautiful, stubborn, woman.
My fingers skimmed under the edge of her
sweater, tickling her sensitive skin. She let out a small giggle.
“Ticklish?” I whispered, my lips brushing against her neck. It was the first time I’d spoken since she’d shown up.
“Shut up,” she growled, low and throaty and sultry and delicious and everything I didn’t fucking deserve.
Her lips claimed mine once more. Yes, claimed.
She fucking owned me from that moment on.
⌘⌘⌘
Sutton
I couldn’t believe this was actually happening.
I must have walked into a strange, alternate universe.
Either that, or he was really drunk and high and wasn’t aware of his actions.
There was no way he was entirely sane right now.
Caelan could not possibly be about to do this.
But he was.
We were.
The faint taste of alcohol clung to his lips, but it wasn’t over-powering, so I knew he wasn’t really drunk. It just seemed like the most reasonable explanation. He always put up such a fight that I wasn’t expecting him to give in so easily.
I guess he knew just as well as I did.
We were fucking inevitable.
A train wreck that you couldn’t avoid.
“I know you deserve someone who will make love to you,” he whispered, then bit into my neck, “but sweetheart, I fuck.”
My neck arched in pleasure at the sharp sting of pain.
Gathering my senses, I mustered up my strength and used it to rise up and push him down, so that I was now straddling him. Rolling my center against his, I smiled down at him, my hands splayed against the soft material of his shirt.
“Good, because that’s the only way I like it.”
His eyes rolled back into his skull and he let out a pleased groan. “We’re a match made in heaven.”
Pushing his shirt up his chest and pressing kisses to his stomach, I said no more.
Now was the time to let carnal pleasure overtake everything else.
He sat up, removing his shirt and tossing it somewhere behind me. I did the same with mine.
I lowered, my hair swishing around us.
Beauty in the Ashes Page 12