“Stop,” I commanded him softly. “Stop this.”
“But Ben—”
“Would be better for me? Has more to offer me?”
He stayed silent.
“Don’t you think I know that, Caspian? Don’t you think I’ve thought about that?”
His voice was quiet, but he said, “You have?”
“Yes. I have. On the night of my birthday party. When I first came back. All those times I was trying so hard to get you out of my head. I’ve thought about it a million times.”
He pulled back, and the space between us widened. I sat up slightly, leveraging myself on my elbows to lessen the space. “I don’t say this to hurt you, love.” The endearment slipped out without me even thinking about it. “I’m telling you this so that you’ll know I made a choice. I chose you. Before I knew you were dead… and after.”
“Say it again,” he said. “Call me your love.”
I wanted to touch his face so much, to make him see how much he meant to me, that my fingers ached with the wanting. “Love, love, love. I chose you freely, love. Before I knew about the Revenants and being your destined other half. I thought about all the ways I could be with Ben—”
“Oh God, Abbey,” he whispered. “You’re breaking my heart here.”
“No,” I said. “Don’t let it. I’m sorry—I’m messing this up.” I rolled away from him, pulling my knees up to my chest. Hot tears threatened to spill, and I jammed my hands into my eyes to stop them.
“I’m so jealous of him,” Caspian admitted. “Every smile he earns from you. Every laugh. I’m jealous of a geek who watches Star Trek and eats Funyuns, for God’s sake.” He laughed bitterly. “I see the look on his face, and I know… I know how he feels. Even if he doesn’t. Because I feel it too.”
I swiped my hand over my face and swallowed.
“I’m sorry, Astrid,” he said. “I know what you were trying to say.”
“Ben’s a great guy, Caspian. He is. But he’s not you. You’re… chocolate to his vanilla. It works for some people, but not me.”
“With sprinkles?” he asked. “Sprinkles are good.”
“Maybe nuts instead of sprinkles.” I smiled into the darkness. “Anyone who can hang out in a mausoleum all day has to be a little nutty.”
“I guess I’m the perfect match, then, for a girl who likes to visit a cemetery.” He drew out every syllable so that it sounded like a love song.
I closed my eyes, savoring those words. “A perfect match,” I murmured. “My other half.”
Chapter Twenty-four
FACE TO FACE
She was withal a little of a coquette, as might be perceived even in her dress, which was a mixture of ancient and modern fashions, as most suited to set off her charms.
—“The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”
A muffled thump and the call of “Housekeeping!” woke me up later that morning, and I put the pillow over my head to try and block out the sound. A short burst of knocks echoed on the door, and I groaned out loud.
“No thank you,” I called, raising my voice so it could be heard through the door.
They knocked again.
“I don’t need any room service! Go away!” It was rude, but effective, and they moved on to the next room.
I felt the sheet slip as I rolled to my side, but I only made a halfhearted attempt to grab at it. It pooled around me, and I felt the cool air on my exposed midriff. I snuggled deeper into my pillow…
And then my eyes popped open.
Caspian was lying next to me.
I yanked my pajama top back down. It’s no worse than if you wore a bikini, I tried to tell myself. Your belly would show then, too.
But I couldn’t meet his eyes. I was sure my face was completely red.
“So,” Caspian said. “How did you sleep?”
My brain was stuttering, but apparently my tongue had no such problems. “Fine. Good.” He leaned closer. I inhaled sharply at his nearness.
“I want to wake up with you every morning,” he said. “Just like this.”
That familiar shivery feeling stole over me again and made my brain go all fuzzy.
“I should call you a pervert,” I finally replied. “For ogling me while I sleep.”
“It was torture. To look and not touch…”
“Hey! Just how much looking did you do?” I said indignantly.
“Not… much.” He grinned at me, his hair falling into one eye. “I’m just sorry that I don’t have my sketch pad. The real crime here was not capturing such beauty.”
I shook my head at him. “That is such a come-on line.… But now I need a shower, and you’re going to have to leave the room and return when I’m done, or keep your eyes closed the entire time. And I’ll know if you’re peeking.”
“I’m staying in the room with you. And I won’t peek.”
“I’m trusting you.”
“Of course you can.”
His face was serious, and I could tell he meant what he was promising. Heading toward the bathroom, I called out, “Okay, close ’em.” He did, but I still glanced out at him to see if he was keeping his word.
He was.
I turned the water on, adjusted the temperature, and momentarily forgot all about Caspian as soon as the hot water hit me. The shower was relaxing and just what I needed. I seriously regretted it the moment I turned it off.
I dried off with a towel down from the rack, then wrapped it around me. Another glance at Caspian told me that he was turned away, watching TV.
As I opened the bathroom door, a cloud of steam escaped with me. The carpet was soft on my bare feet, and I scrunched up my toes, enjoying the feeling. The towel I’d wrapped turban-style around my head started to come undone, so I reached up to secure it.
Behind me the TV switched off.
I froze, aware that I had to be careful how much I moved, or else the towel wrapped around my body could slip.
Turning slowly, I locked eyes with Caspian, and he crooked his finger. Beckoning me to come closer.
I couldn’t resist.
He stood up from the edge of the bed and met me halfway. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest.
“Your cheeks are rosy,” he observed. “And you smell good.” He let out a small groan, and I backed up a step, suddenly feeling out of my element. My suitcase was on the floor behind me, and I bumped into it.
“I’m at a disadvantage here.” I tried to laugh. Tried to distract myself from this strange moment that I didn’t know how to react to. “You’re fully dressed, and I’m only wearing a towel.”
In an instant he pulled off the dark gray T-shirt he wore. The black interlocking circles of the tattoo on his left arm flashed when he moved. “Now we’re a little more even.”
Desire hit me like a rock as I gazed at his bare chest, and I wondered what his skin tasted like there. He was so… male. So beautiful.
I bit my lip to keep from moaning, and Caspian let out a sigh. “You are so unbelievably sexy right now.”
A wicked little devil prodded me to be bad, and I took off the towel wrapped around my head, flipping my hair to one side so it slithered over my shoulder. Biting down harder on my lip, I whispered, “Hold on,” and disappeared into the bathroom again.
I grabbed my bottle of lotion from the counter, returned to Caspian, and sat down on top of my suitcase. This time, I was the one to beckon him.
I braced my feet on the carpet. One knee was exposed, and I hiked the towel up a little bit more until my whole thigh was showing. The thought that I was playing with fire crossed my mind, but I pushed it away. I was in the mood to get burned. Scorched, even.
The scent of vanilla wafted around us as I opened the lotion and squeezed some into my palm. Caspian watched my every move intently. I slid my hand up and down my leg, smoothing on the lotion. The sensation was heightened by the fact that he was there with me. Beads of sweat gathered on my forehead, and I quick
ly wiped them away. “It’s hot in here,” I whispered.
Caspian licked his lips, and a muscle in his jaw clenched. “You have another.”
“Another?”
“Another leg,” he said.
I smiled. “You’re right.” Squeezing out some more lotion, I massaged my other calf and worked my way up past my knee. I closed my eyes, picturing his hand there, on my leg… warm and firm… sliding up the towel… caressing my skin… The lotion bottle suddenly fell out of my hand and rolled away, banging against the end table with a thud.
An instant later the lamp crashed to the ground.
I jumped and met Caspian’s eyes. He looked just as startled as I was.
There was a knock at the nearby door and then Ben said, “Abbey? Are you okay?”
I let out a frustrated sigh and tucked my hair behind one ear. The pounding continued, and I glanced at Caspian.
“We’ll finish this later,” he promised.
Standing up, I felt a little wobbly in the knees and went to open the adjoining door.
“Remember, you’re in a towel,” Caspian called out.
I looked down and pulled it around me tighter. Cracking the door open a couple of inches, I stuck my face near it. “Ben, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? I heard a loud bang.”
“Yeah, I just knocked over a lamp.”
“Are you almost ready to go?” he said.
“I just got out of the shower. I’m not dressed yet. Give me ten minutes.”
“Oh. Okay.” He backed away, and I shut the door.
Returning to my suitcase to get some clothes, I told Caspian, “We’re leaving in about ten minutes.”
“I’m ready,” he said, folding his arms over his chest.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” I looked down at his bare chest. “Your shirt?”
His muscles flexed. “You seemed to like it better off. I could just walk around like this. No one would see.”
My mouth went dry. “I, um… yes.” Then common sense kicked in. “But I don’t want to be distracted all day.” I ducked my head and rummaged through the suitcase, pulling out some jeans and a black baby-doll tee.
In the bathroom I dried my hair and got dressed next to the toilet, privacy firmly in place. All my earlier brashness had deserted me. When I walked out, Caspian was waiting by the door. And his shirt was back on.
“I liked your other outfit better,” he said.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But I gave him just the tiniest of smiles.
“Just you wait until you’re asleep,” he threatened. “I’m going to ogle you until my eyeballs fall out.”
I grabbed my cell phone from next to the bed, and right before I opened the door, I winked at him. “Promises, promises.”
He grinned, and we went out to meet Ben.
We found Shepherd University pretty easily, and Ben dropped me off at the main campus. “You’ll be able to find someplace to eat here, right?” he said.
“I’ll be fine, Ben. I’m a big girl.”
“Okay. I’ll be helping out at the junkyard all day, so I’ll be back around six.”
I waved him off and waited until he was out of sight. Then I opened my cell phone and dialed the cab company that I’d preprogrammed in. Ten minutes later the cab was picking us up.
“Martinsburg,” I told the driver. Caspian stayed silent beside me. Once we reached the downtown area, the cabbie asked where I wanted to be let off. We were next to a florist shop, so I said, “Here’s fine,” and thrust some money at him. Caspian got out first, and I followed quickly behind.
As the cab sped away, I turned to Caspian. “Does anything look familiar?” The streets were empty, so I didn’t have to worry too much about anyone seeing me talk to myself.
“Yes. Of course. This was home.”
“Where do you want to go?” I asked him.
“That’s up to you,” he said. “This is your visit.”
I nodded. “Do you want to walk around here for a while? You can tell me about the town.”
He jerked his head in some semblance of a yes, and started walking. I hurried to catch up, and waited for him to say something. He stayed quiet for a long time.
Finally, as we passed a balloon shop, he spoke. “See that door there?” I craned my neck and saw a glass door. “I cut my foot on it. Sliced the top right open. There’s this wicked metal piece that acts as a door stopper. But I had sandals on, and it went right over the top of them. Took twelve stitches to close up.”
I cringed. I didn’t like thinking about him bleeding.
We turned the corner and left Main Street behind. It just fell away. There one block, gone by the next. The streets grew dirtier, and the houses shabbier, the farther we went. Row-houses sat crammed next to each other, practically one on top of the other.
“That’s strange,” I said to Caspian. “No kids playing outside. Since they’re out of school, I’d expect to see them in the yards, or on the street.”
“There weren’t very many kids around when I lived here,” he replied. “It’s mostly elderly people who can’t afford retirement homes. They can’t really afford their own homes, either.”
“Oh.” That was sad.
At the end of the block Caspian stopped in front of a small gray house that sat right next to some railroad tracks. The windows were tiny and dirty, and there weren’t any shutters. “Home sweet home,” he said.
“This is where you lived?” I tried to keep the surprise out of my voice, but it wasn’t what I was expecting.
He kicked a loose stone. “Yup. This was my house.” Moving closer, he stooped to peer into one of the front windows.
I came up next to him and looked in too. “Is anyone home?” I whispered.
“There probably isn’t anyone living here.” He tried the door, but it was locked.
Two or three paint cans, half a dozen brushes, and some empty beer bottles littered the floor of the small kitchen. “Somebody’s redecorating,” I said.
Caspian sat down on a concrete slab in front of the house and put his head in his hands. “I hope they rip up that damn carpet in the kitchen.”
“Carpet in the kitchen? That’s weird.”
“Tell me about it. The whole house was rigged with duct tape and chewing gum. Faucets only worked half the time, the shower didn’t have hot water, and you couldn’t use more than two outlets at a time or the whole fuse box would blow. The house was a death trap.”
He looked embarrassed, and I thought about the house that I lived in. Sure, it creaked and settled every now and then, but it was big and spacious and remodeled. I never had to worry about what plug I used, or whether or not I had hot water.
“It was still your house, and I’m glad I got to see it,” I told him. “It’s a part of your childhood.”
“A part I’d rather forget.” Caspian looked away from me and kicked at a stone again. “The only good thing about this house was the railroad tracks.” He stood up. “Follow me.”
He led me across the train tracks, and we came to a steep embankment that held a drainage pipe at the bottom. After climbing down, he reached behind the pipe and appeared to be wiggling a section of it free. “It’s loose,” he called up to me.
I stood at the top of the embankment until he motioned for me to climb down. In his hand was a small cigar box. He looked at me with such pride on his face that a sweet joy flooded my heart. “It’s still here. My box of treasures from when I was a kid.”
There weren’t very many items, but he pulled them out one by one, showing me all of them. “Here’s a Mike Schmidt baseball card, my favorite kazoo, a lucky rabbit’s foot…”
“It wasn’t lucky for the rabbit.”
Caspian smiled at me and kept talking. “A LEGO man, a lucky medallion, and here… the best for last.” He tipped the box over, and flashes of silver and copper winked up in the sun. “Give me your palm.”
I held my hand out flat, and he dropped a c
ompletely smooth, flattened piece of silver metal into it. I glanced down, recognizing the stretched markings. “It’s a quarter!” I said. “What happened to it?”
“I put it on the tracks and a train flattened it. Used to do it all the time when I was a kid. Here’s a dime, a penny, and a nickel that are all flattened too.”
He dropped the rest of them into my hand, and they clanked together. I closed my fist, feeling the cool smoothness, and imagined Caspian as a little boy.
“I bet you were adorable,” I said softly. “When you were little.”
He shrugged and looked back in the direction of the house. “I was the weird, quiet kid who drew pictures all the time. I had a couple of friends, but no one special.”
I looked up at him, wishing I could have seen the little boy that he once was. “I would have been your friend.”
He smiled at me. “I know you would have, Abbey.” He thrust the cigar box at me. “Here. Take it.”
“But I can’t. They’re your treasures.”
He held the box out even further. “I know. That’s why I want you to have them. They’re all I have left of my childhood, and it’s a piece of me that I want to give you.”
Fear of rejection was written all over his face, and my heart almost broke for him. Taking the box, I put the coins back inside and cradled it gently. “Thank you, Caspian. I’m honored.”
My words seemed to make him happy, and he beamed at me. It was contagious, and I smiled back. The warm sun beat down on our backs, and in that moment I knew there was no greater feeling in the whole word.
“Do you want to see my elementary school?” he asked, almost shyly.
“Absolutely.”
I tucked the box under my arm, and we climbed back up the embankment. He took me behind his old house and down several roads, until we came to a small red brick building. MARTINSBURG ELEMENTARY SCHOOL 1842 was carved above the front door.
Go Bulldogs! was painted in faded red and white letters along the side of the building.
“Home of the bulldogs, huh?” I asked, walking toward the school.
“Best basketball team since… okay, since never. The team here sucks.”
The Haunted Page 28
