Chasing Red Series, Book 1

by Isabelle Ronin

  She nodded. “I know, right? It’s a cruelty-free lipstick, and it was on sale! I bought three in different shades. I’ll show them to you later. Anyway, I have a vagina, Ver. I know this. I feel this in my soul. I get you.”

  Kara walked toward me and slapped the side of my head.

  “Ouch!” I wasn’t expecting that.

  “Wake up, idiot.” She flicked her fingers at me. “Fine, you don’t want to have sex with him. I respect that. I really do. I bow to your superpower virginity, but give the guy a chance.”

  “I do want to give him a chance. Dammit!” I blew out a breath in frustration, massaging the tension in my neck. “I’m scared, that’s all. I can’t think when he’s near. I’m in a constant battle with myself over whether to give in or not. I hate this. I don’t want to be like my mom.”

  “Ver, you have a pussy. It’s between your legs. You don’t actually need to be one.” She paused, growing serious. “The things we run away from are the ones that always come back to bite us in the ass. You feel me? You can run away, but this will come back and bite you harder. Caleb is not your father, and you aren’t your mom. You’re stronger than she was. Fucking deal with it!” she ranted, shaking her head at me.

  Needing some space, I turned away from her piercing gaze. She was right. I was being stupid. The more I fought against the attraction I felt for Caleb, the harder it was to stay away.

  Because I was in deep already, I realized. I was also deep in denial.

  What the hell had happened to me? I’d kicked ass before. Why did I feel like a fake now? I felt like I was living someone else’s life, like I was a spectator instead of a participant. Where was my spunk? The thing I was most scared of was becoming like my mother, and I’d tried everything not to let that happen. Little did I know I was becoming like her all along because I was afraid of facing reality.

  The reality was that I really liked Caleb. Really, really liked Caleb.

  I had a sudden urge to see him. I wanted to make sure he still felt the same way. What if all of it was a joke? My heart was pounding. No, Caleb wasn’t cruel like that.

  I had been running away from risks all my life. So what if he broke my heart? I was not my mom. I wouldn’t be like her even if Caleb broke my heart.

  I glanced at the clock. It was two minutes before closing. “Kar, can we close shop yet? I need to talk to Caleb.”

  “Atta girl!” she exclaimed. “Yeah, we can close now.”

  “Thanks, Kar. You’re a lifesaver.”

  After closing, I boarded the bus, willing it to move faster. Caleb had basketball practice after he dropped me off at work. He wouldn’t be home for a couple of hours yet. I had time to cook him a great dinner of steak and potatoes. After all, what guy didn’t like steak and potatoes? He seemed to like whatever I cooked for him. The only thing I knew he wouldn’t eat was mac and cheese. A nervous laugh bubbled out, and a few people stared at me. I turned my back to them until the bus arrived at my stop and let me off.

  As soon as I entered Caleb’s apartment, I grabbed my old MP3 player and tried to let my favorite playlist calm me. It didn’t work. I was feeling anxious.

  What the hell do I say to him when he comes home? What the hell do I want, anyway?

  Caleb. I want Caleb.

  Crap. I was hyperventilating. I’d never told a boy I liked him before. How did I start?

  I was just placing his plate of food on the breakfast bar where he preferred to eat when I heard the door open. My heart pounded as I waited for him.

  “Red?”

  “Caleb.” I sounded breathy to my ears. I cleared my throat.

  Just the sight of him stunned me a little. It was obvious he’d just had a shower. His bronze hair was combed back, showcasing his gorgeous face. I nearly sighed.

  “How was practice?”

  He stopped midstride, his head tilted in a way that meant he was trying to figure something out.

  At the moment, it was me.

  “Smells wonderful here,” he commented, slipping his hands into his pants pockets.

  I wanted him to walk over to me, but he stayed where he was, rocking back on his heels and still studying me with those intense green eyes.

  “Hungry?” I asked.

  I saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down. He looked nervous all of a sudden. Did I have that effect on him?

  “Yes,” he whispered.

  I walked to him slowly. His eyes widened a little as he watched me. I stopped when I was a few inches away from him. I could feel his breath, smell the mint in it.

  “I have something for you, Caleb.”

  I placed my hands around his neck, pulling him close to me. A small smile played on his lips. His lips… They looked so soft, so tempting. I stared at them, craving their taste, their feel against mine.

  “What do you have for me, Red?”

  His voice was low and raspy, green eyes hooded as they gazed down at me, his long eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks.

  “A kiss,” I said breathlessly.

  His hands gripped my hips possessively, pulling me closer to him. I heard his intake of breath as our hips touched and the space between us disappeared.

  “I want you,” he murmured before his head dipped down to claim my lips.

  The soft glide of his tongue between my lips coaxed me to open up to him, and when I did, I let myself drown.

  Everything blurred into sensation: the rough texture of his hands as they slipped under my shirt, his fingertips slowly drifting along the skin on my lower back, the delicious warmth from his body, the gentle bite of his teeth, the slow licks of his tongue.

  It was a passionate kiss, hard and deep. It made me long for something I wasn’t ready for. His hands were all over my body. My head was spinning, my heart beating too fast.

  And then his phone rang.

  I pulled away. We were both panting.

  “Red…”

  “Answer your phone, please. I need a minute.”

  Holy crap, what the hell was that?

  He stared at me, hesitant to let me go.

  “Please,” I said.

  I wanted to have time to get my breath back without his eyes on me. I was tripping, melting, about to fall apart.

  “Hello? Beatrice-Rose?” He stiffened. “Yes, how are you? No, I can’t tonight. I’m sorry. Rain check?”

  Beatrice-Rose? Rain check?

  He was kissing me seconds ago, and now he was planning a date with another girl?

  What the fuck. He hadn’t changed at all. He was still a man whore! Everything blurred to red. Had he been sleeping with anyone—this Beatrice-Rose—since we met? Good God. He’d practically proposed to me!

  I wrapped my arms around my stomach as my mind thundered off like a freight train. Images of my dad cheating on my mom, my mom crying, begging him to leave his other woman, crashed through my head… Kar crying. And I just snapped. I grabbed the plate of food from the counter and stomped over to dump the food over his head as he finished the call.

  He stepped away suddenly so that the food barely touched him. “What the fuck?”

  The food plopped wetly onto the floor, and he stared at me in shocked silence.

  “You asshole!” I screamed, backing away.

  I pulled off my shoe and threw it at him. He ducked, and it missed hitting him by a few inches, which made me angrier. I grabbed my other shoe and threw it at him again. This time he caught it midair. Damned agile basketball player!

  “Wha—? What did I do now?” He looked so confused, so clueless that I felt like kicking him between his legs.

  “Are you kidding me?” I panted.

  I wanted to pull my hair out. The balls! I couldn’t believe how stupid I was. I was actually starting to believe him!

  I searched for something else to throw at him, but there w
as nothing nearby, unless I could lift the fridge and drop it on top of his head. I snarled in frustration and turned to leave. I was leaving for good!

  He grabbed my arm and whipped me around, my hands brushing against his chest as our bodies collided. I tried to twist away, but he grabbed my other arm, immobilizing me.

  His face was contorted with anger and frustration as he glared at me and growled, “I’ve been walking on fucking eggshells around you. I can’t live like this. What do you want from me?”

  I wanted to slap him, but he had my arms locked in his hands.

  “Beatrice-Rose? Rain check?” I spat out. “You’re making a date seconds after you kissed me?”

  His eyes turned stormy. “Beatrice-Rose is a childhood friend! She left school to go to Paris and just got back. She wanted to catch up. Why do you always think the worst about me?”

  I groaned. I felt like an idiot. Unless he was lying again… I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “Stop being a coward, and tell me what you feel. I am done with your games, Red,” he said angrily, his grip on my arms tightening.

  And then his eyes turned soft. In a painful whisper he asked, “Do you want me or not?”

  “I do, damn you!”

  I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down for a punishing kiss. I kissed him because he put butterflies in my stomach, and I both loved and hated that feeling. I kissed him because he made me hope for something I thought was broken, something I thought I could never have. I kissed him because he was Caleb.

  And because he could be my Caleb.

  His big hands curled possessively on my shoulders before they glided down my back, pulling me against his hard body. I kissed him harder, biting his bottom lip. I heard his intake of breath, and that encouraged me to kiss him even harder. My fingers dug into his arms, taking everything he was giving me, and giving him more. Seeking out his tongue with mine, I tried to show him how I felt, since I couldn’t put anything into words.

  His hands slipped inside my shirt, fingers seeking the skin just below my bra. My head was spinning, and I realized I needed to catch my breath. I placed my hands on his chest, pushing him back and stepping away. We were both breathing hard, as we always did after we kissed.

  “I’m sorry, Caleb. This thing we have between us…it’s all so new. It’s terrifying me. Every time I want to give in to you, I stop myself. You make me feel like I can be happy with you. You make me feel like I can give you…everything. My mom gave everything to my dad, and he just…he just…” I was rambling.

  “Come here,” Caleb said, his voice whisper soft.

  I shook my head. I needed to get my feet back on the ground. I felt so unsteady.

  I felt him move beside me, then touch my face so that I turned toward him. He leaned down and kissed my eyes, tasting my tears.

  “You drive me batshit crazy.” He kissed my forehead, my cheek, my chin.

  “I know. And you drive me just as crazy…as your dinner on the floor suggests.” I closed my eyes when he kissed my neck. “Caleb?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Wait. I want to talk.”

  “Shh. We have all night. We’ll talk later,” he whispered, kissing my shoulder. “For now, let me just kiss you.”

  I laughed nervously. “Okay.”

  He kissed everything except my lips. I was straining for his lips on mine.

  “Caleb, kiss me here…”

  “Where?” he murmured.

  “Right here.” I pointed back to my neck, but I really didn’t know exactly where. I wanted him to kiss me everywhere. I felt hot, like my blood was boiling and my skin was on fire. His lips were soft. So, so, so soft.

  “Mmm…” he purred, smelling the skin on my neck. “You smell so good, taste so good.”

  Then he lifted me, wrapping my legs around his waist as my arms slid around his neck. He placed me on the counter, his lips never leaving my skin. He was so very close.

  “Caleb, kiss me…my lips.”

  He gave me a searing kiss, then pulled away. “Let me make you feel good.” His hands went to caress my legs. “I want to make love with you so bad, Red. It’s all I can think about.”

  It was as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. I grabbed his hands to stop them from doing…whatever they were going to do.

  “Caleb, stop. Wait, please.”

  He was breathing loudly—we both were—but he stopped as soon as I asked him to.

  “Caleb, I can’t. I-I’m not ready.”

  He rested his forehead against mine again, his eyes closed.

  “It’s okay,” he said breathlessly. “We’ll take it slow.”

  “I mean…I don’t know if I can. Caleb, I’m…”

  “I’m not going to push you. This is all up to you. I promise you.”

  I nodded. I wondered what he would think if I told him I was still a virgin. Some guys were intimidated by the V card and would refuse to sleep with girls unless they were experienced. Other guys liked to deflower virgins. Others respected it. So…I wondered what category Caleb was in.

  “I’m a virgin.” There. I’d said it.

  His mouth opened in shock, and he pulled back a little. “What?”

  “I’m a virgin,” I repeated.

  His mouth closed. Opened, closed again. He blew out a breath, his hands dropping to flatten on the counter on either side of me as he looked at me.

  And then his smile turned into a wolfish alpha grin. “God. You don’t know how happy that made me. How proud I am of you right now. I can wait, baby.”

  Caleb… How did I tell him I was emotionally damaged? I didn’t know how long it would take for me to trust him enough to be certain I was ready…

  “What?” His smile fell when I didn’t answer. “You don’t—?” He paused, looked down and sighed, then looked back up at my face. His eyes were piercing. “I know you want to make love with me. I can feel it. But if you’re not ready, then you’re not ready. That’s all there is to it.”

  He kissed my lips. “I won’t rush you, Red,” he whispered, moving closer.

  I rested my cheek against his chest. His heart was beating fast.

  “Besides, there are other things we can do,” he added playfully. “I’m sorry if I scare you. I know I have no filter on my mouth, but I’m trying my best. I’m going to screw up.” He paused, then said, “Contrary to popular belief, I’m not perfect.”

  I laughed and bit his chest. “Yeah, right.”

  “Ow. Feisty. I love it,” he murmured, rubbing his chest where I’d bitten him.

  I gasped when he said love.

  Don’t say that yet, Caleb. I’m not ready to hear it.

  Say it, Caleb. I want to hear it.

  I held my breath.

  He looked at me like he knew what I was thinking. He smiled knowingly and whispered, “You’re worth waiting for, Red. I know it.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Veronica

  A little while later, I’d decided to call it an early night and was about to curl up with a book when I heard a knock on my bedroom door.

  “Red?”

  “Come in, Caleb.”

  He opened the door halfway, poking his head in.

  “Well, now, since you blew up like a cheetah on crack, there went my dinner,” Caleb teased, smiling charmingly. He opened the door all the way and entered.

  He’d just had a shower and was rubbing a towel to dry his hair. He was barefoot and shirtless. A few drops of water glistened on his chest. My eyes roamed downward to his flat stomach, and then down to the exposed V line until it disappeared in his jeans. He hadn’t fastened the top button. My mouth felt dry.

  I looked away, feeling heat creeping up my neck. I knew I was blushing. And I knew he was grinning. He probably was half naked on purpose.

 
“I’m hungry,” he said. But he said it in a hungry voice, like he wanted to eat something…and when I looked up into his eyes, I knew.

  He was hungry for me.

  Good Lord.

  “Do you—” My voice sounded hoarse so I cleared my throat. “Want me to cook something for you?” My stomach growled, and I realized I was hungry too.

  He blew out a breath. “I think we need to get out of here before I eat…someone.”

  My mouth dropped open, and I’m pretty sure my face was beet red.

  He bit his lip, grinning. “Why don’t we go out to eat? It’s a holiday tomorrow so we can stay up late.” He winked. “Wear a dress, Red.”

  I was so stunned by what he’d said about eating someone that I just nodded before he left.

  In a daze, I padded to the bathroom to get ready.

  I had a dilemma. The only dress I had was the red bandage dress I’d worn at the club, and he had already seen me in it.

  I let out a frustrated breath. This was ridiculous. I’d had no problem wearing the same clothes before. I couldn’t afford new clothes even if I wanted any.

  But Caleb made me want to look beautiful for him. For once in my life, I wanted to impress a boy.

  What was Caleb’s type? I racked my brain, thinking of all those times I’d seen him with a girl draped on his arm. I’d never really paid much attention to him before—his type and my type did not mix—but the times I had seen him, I did notice the girl was always blond.

  Yeah, his usual type was blond. And my hair was black as midnight.

  I stared at my image in the mirror. My dark hair fell straight as a pin to my waist. Should I curl it?

  I only applied a little powder and the red lipstick that he’d named me for. My eyes were too big, my mouth too wide. Should I apply more makeup?

  When I put the dress on, my boobs looked enormous. Were my hips too wide? They looked like I just gave birth. Would he think I wasn’t sexy in this dress?

  What was happening to me? Where had all these insecurities come from?

  I shook my head. I was attractive in my own way, and I knew it. I did not need self-esteem issues bringing me down just because the most popular and gorgeous boy I’d ever met had asked me out on a date.