I watch in horror as the casket lid shakes, as if someone's pounding their fists into the lid from the inside. The flowers begin to shake and slide off the smooth surface. I watch as the roses drop to the ground, breaking apart as they lie scattered, their delicate blooms permanently bruised and broken.
“Zoey! Save me!”
“Don't you hear him?” I cry out to those that surround me.
They ignore me.
I grab my father's arm. “Dad! Can't you hear him?” His eyes stay fastened on the pastor, and it's as if I'm no longer there. I turn to my mother, and she's staring right through me. I'm invisible. With a soft cry, I turn away and rush to the casket. My fingertips glide across the smooth surface as I search for the latch.
“Save me, Zoey!!”
“I'm trying!” I sob as I fumble with the lid, and then I use all my weight as I push it up so that the lid opens. I blink and stare down at Micah. His eyes are closed, his handsome face pale. The dark hair that usually looks so shaggy has been artfully swept over the part of his forehead that had been damaged in the accident.
“Micah?” I whisper.
Why isn't he moving? He's as still as death in his dark suit, his white hands clasped on top of his chest as if he's sleeping peacefully.
“What have you done?” My mother suddenly shouts at me.
I flinch and look up. Everyone is staring at me accusingly as I stand there with the casket open. Their eyes ravage my already tortured soul.
“Zoey, wake up,” someone says as they gently shake my shoulder.
My eyes fly open, and I stare up at Caleb before I wince and recoil from the brightness of the room. The lamp is on, and I reach up and rub my eyes.
“You were having a nightmare.”
“What are you doing here?” I mumble as I shift on the bed, then peer up at him with confusion. He's lying on the bed on his side—still fully clothed, his head propped up on one hand as he studies me. His dark hair is slightly mussed and whiskers line his jaw. He reaches out and gently pulls a strand of hair away from my face. “I asked if I could spend the night. Don't you remember?”
I start to shake my head, but then it all comes back to me. The guys finding me choking on my vomit, the confrontation with Ace... I'd allowed Caleb to stay with me the entire day as I tried to sleep off my hangover in between nibbling on toast that Caleb insisted I try to eat. When it became late, he'd asked if he could spend the night, and I'd found that I hadn't wanted him to leave.
“Yeah, I remember,” I say quietly.
His eyes search mine. “Will you tell me about your dream?”
Oddly enough, I find that I want to tell him. I think if anyone is going to understand whatever is going on with me, it'll be him. I roll onto my side so that I'm facing him, and we stare at each other, our faces only inches apart. My voice is soft as I say, “I dreamed of the funeral.”
He's silent as he watches me.
I lick my dry lips and continue. “We were at the cemetery. I could hear Micah inside the casket, and he was begging me to let him out. To save him. I was the only one that could hear him.”
“What happened next?”
“I opened the casket. He was still dead, and then my mom was yelling at me.” I shiver and draw the sheets up and around me to ward off the sudden chill.
Caleb moves closer, and he touches my cheek with a warm hand, his eyes gentle now. “You dream this a lot?”
“I have all sorts of dreams about him. I'm always trying to save him,” I whisper as I press my cheek further into his hand. This man, he can bring me comfort so easily, and I savor the feel of his palm touching my face. I feel an odd peacefulness with him that I’ve never felt before with anyone.
He leans closer to me, his lips inches from my own. “You couldn't have saved him, Zoey.”
“I know.” I stare at him, and I find that I wish he'd kiss me. Instead, his hand slides up to my forehead where he brushes my hair back, then his lips move up to press a kiss above my left eyebrow. A soft sigh escapes me, and I let my eyes shut as I relish the feel of his tenderness. I can't help but inch closer to him so I can feel his body heat. His arms come around me, and I find myself enveloped in the comfort of his embrace.
“Can I ask you a question?” Caleb asks, his breath teasing the hair near my temple.
I nod, not speaking.
“We didn't get a chance to talk about what went down at the condo. What set you off that night? You said you were angry at yourself. Why?”
Instead of answering, I simply savor his embrace while my mind wanders. There's a tiny voice inside me warning me that I'm giving him too much today. I've let him in when I should have made him leave my apartment. He seems to have some sort of effect on me, though. I feel drawn to him in ways I've never felt before. It's not lost on me either that the usual shit that comes out of my mouth hasn't made an appearance. I've been calm with him, my anger unusually dormant. Even while Ace had railed, it hadn't risen to the occasion. Maybe I'm just tired from the alcohol. Or maybe I'm just tired of fighting everyone all the time.
“I haven't been to Micah's grave since the funeral,” I confide in the quietness of my bedroom.
“This is why you're angry with yourself?” Caleb asks cautiously.
I nod against his chest, not opening my eyes. “I ran into his ex-girlfriend at the party. They do a memorial service every year, and she wanted to invite me. I... I can't go there, Caleb. I just can't. At first, I avoided it, because I couldn't bear it. But then I began to feel like I didn't deserve to be there. After that, I started to do all these stupid things, and I know Micah would be disappointed in me. I feel ashamed...”
“Micah will always love you, Zoey. No matter what you do, he'll always forgive. That's what people do when they love,” he says gently.
I'm not sure what to say, so I fall silent. My left hand lifts, and I ease it around his waist and burrow my face into his chest. “I feel weird today.”
“How so?”
“Numb. Like I'm here, but yet I’m not,” I murmur.
“You're emotionally drained. I think you've held all this in for way too long and it needs to come out.”
“I'm so tired.”
“Sleep then. I'm not going anywhere.”
~*~
I wake up to the scent of something delicious cooking, and my stomach growls loudly. With a wide yawn that nearly cracks my jaw, I open my eyes and peer around my bedroom. I vaguely remember Caleb sharing my bed with me last night. I'd had a dream about Micah, and I remember talking about it briefly before falling asleep in his arms. This should alarm me, but it doesn't. I don't talk to people about deep shit, but I find it's easy with Caleb.
I sit up and run a hand through my tousled hair. As I hear him rummaging around my kitchen, I realize he's making a place for himself in my life. I'm not quite sure how I feel about this. I still haven't made up my mind about this relationship thing.
Movement in my bedroom doorway has me looking up a second later. Caleb stands there, looking handsome as ever in fresh jeans and a tee that hugs his hard chest. His feet are bare, and his hair is slightly damp. He's holding a spatula in one hand, and he looks pleased to see that I'm awake. “Breakfast is ready.”
My nose wrinkles as I look down at my camisole tank and the wrinkled boxer shorts I'm wearing. I look like road kill. “I need a shower first.”
“Nope. Eat first, then shower.”
“But...”
He gives me a dismissive look. “Zoey, you were covered in your own vomit the other day. I've seen you at your worst, and this isn't it. You look adorable,” he says, breaking into a wide grin.
“Adorable?” I echo. “Kittens and puppies are adorable. I'm usually scary in the morning or so the guys say.”
Caleb snickers. “If this is your version of scary, I hate to break it to you, but you aren't as badass as you seem to think.”
I shake my head and climb out of the bed. I pause by my dresser to grab a hair tie, and I pull my hai
r back into a simple, messy knot. Then, I follow Caleb through the apartment to the kitchen, my eyes focusing on his tight ass in those jeans. I can't help but lick my lower lip as I study it. What would it be like to wake up to a fine ass like that every morning?
His ass disappears behind the counter as he goes to the stove while I settle on a stool in front of the counter top. Another yawn breaks my jaw. Caleb sets a plate full of pancakes and scrambled eggs in front of me, and then a glass of orange juice is set down next to it.
“Did you buy groceries?” My face scrunches at the thought. I don't want him spending money on me or feeling like he has to take care of me.
“I ran upstairs and grabbed some of my own. You barely ate yesterday, so I wanted to make sure I fed you properly this morning,” he tells me as he begins to set dirty dishes in the sink.
I pick up my fork and can't help the disgruntled look that crosses my face. At least he doesn't see my expression. “You didn't have to stay and take care of me.”
“It was either me or Ace. I didn't trust him to contain his temper with you.”
Oh. Was that the only reason he'd stayed? I find myself slightly disappointed.
Caleb glances at me from over his shoulder. “Eat.”
Without a word, I begin to devour the pancakes first. I'm absolutely starved, and in between mouthfuls, I tell him he's a good cook.
“I can whip up a few things, but other than that, I mostly rely on take-out,” he says as he fills the sink with water.
“Yeah, me too,” I murmur and reach for my orange juice, taking a sip.
“So, since you seem to be more alert today, maybe we can talk about a few things?” Caleb asks casually.
“Like what?” I ask cautiously as I spear my eggs and take a bite.
He turns and gives me a funny look. “You've slept with both Ace and Jeremy?”
I choke on my eggs and cough. Once my airway is clear, I look at him with raised eyebrows. “You want to talk about my past bed partners?”
He shrugs, crossing his arms as he leans a hip against the counter top. “I'm curious.”
I set my fork down and grow amused. “Where did this curiosity come from?”
“Jeremy and I had you in the shower, and we had to strip you down. I was trying to...ah, keep your modesty intact, but Jeremy made a comment about how he's seen it all before. Plenty of times,” he says dryly. “As for Ace, you guys tend to joke about it, so I already figured you guys had a thing in the past.”
“Are you jealous?”
Blue eyes hold mine. “Yeah, I think I am.”
His admission has me staring at him. “Really?”
He gives me a look. “You know I've got feelings for you. I'm just trying to figure you out.”
“By asking about past bed partners?”
Caleb uncrosses his arms and walks over to stand before the counter top, his eyes on mine. “Yes. Ace is into restraints, is that something you're into?”
I can't help but laugh as I push aside my empty plate. “No. Trust me, Ace and I are not compatible. You should know that by now if you've listened to our jokes.”
“What about you and Jeremy?”
“What about him?” I ask carefully.
“Is he competition?” Caleb asks softly, his eyes focusing on mine intently.
“No,” I say with a shake of my head. “It was just a 'friends with benefits' kind of thing. I ended it when I realized maybe things were going too far.”
“In what way?” he presses.
“I was worried Jeremy might be starting to read more into it.”
He nods. “Have you considered what we could have, Zoey?”
My lips flatten and I look away.
Caleb sighs. “We both know you want to.”
“You can't know that for sure,” I say a bit sharply.
He gives me a look. “You were staring at my ass earlier.”
“No, I wasn't!” I sputter.
“I could feel it, Sparky.”
Well, hell. I bring my hands up and rub them across my face. “I need more time, Caleb.”
“You can't avoid the issue forever. Sooner or later, you're going to have to give me an answer,” he warns me.
Chapter Eighteen
By the time Monday night arrives, I have distanced myself from what happened over the weekend. I'm back to tactfully avoiding Caleb, because I just need some time to think. When he text messages me, I claim to be busy. I know he's waiting on my answer, and I've been putting off giving it to him.
I haven't made any sort of decision, and I know I'm going to have to soon. Caleb said so himself. I'm just unsure of what to do. I'd relied on him over the weekend, and at the time it'd been nice, but now that fact frightens me. I'm already starting to get used to him being in my life. I know it could easily become permanent, but I'm not sure if I'm ready to go there with him. Nothing in my life has been resolved, and I still have abandonment issues. I'm afraid to open myself up to him only to be hurt in the end.
Then there's the disorder hanging over my head. Micah's anniversary is past, and I just barely lived through it by the skin of my teeth. I'd be dead if it weren't for Caleb insisting on checking up on me. I had told myself that I would go see a doctor once his anniversary was past. That should have been the first thing I did today.
But yet I hadn't.
Because I'm scared.
“Hey, you look like you've got some heavy stuff on your mind,” Lonnie comments as she brushes past me while I fill two cups with soda during my shift at Grendel's.
I shrug. “A lot has changed lately,” I confess.
She walks over and pauses near me. “That why you haven't gone out with me in a while?”
“I just have a lot on my mind.”
“So take a night off and have some fun. There's a party tonight. You game?” she asks with a grin as she bumps my hip with hers.
I'm tempted. Not that I want to get trashed or anything, but I haven't been feeling like myself lately. I've been weirdly mellow, and that's abnormal for me. And after this weekend, I feel more confused than ever. I'm not sure what I want anymore, and I'm finding that I'm not even sure who the real Zoey Monohan is these days.
“You know you want to,” Lonnie taunts in my ear as she fills a plastic glass to the rim with soda.
“Okay, just for a little while,” I say as I cave. What could it hurt?
When my shift is over with, I eat a snack in the back room while I wait for Lonnie. She said I could just come back to her place and borrow something of hers to wear, and then we'd head out with her friends. Under normal circumstances, I'd be excited to be going out, but instead I find myself feeling almost guilty. Which is ridiculous. I don't have to check in with Caleb to go out. But I know he wouldn't approve, and for some reason, I care about what he thinks.
Which ticks me off and begins to wake up my dormant temper. Since when do I start worrying over what a guy is going to think of my actions? I've always been independent. I've always had a 'devil may care' attitude. I'm not even in a relationship with Caleb, and I'm already letting him control me. What the hell?
These thoughts are what push me to go out with Lonnie and her friends. I laugh and struggle to have a good time as we arrive at the party. It's packed, and everywhere I turn people are enjoying themselves. Parties used to be my thing, and when I realize my heart's not really into it, I knock back a couple of shots to try to get into the spirit. Lonnie eventually ditches me for a cute guy, and I find myself dancing with numerous guys at the party. Some of them are really cute, but they're not doing it for me. The one I'm dancing with right now, he's gorgeous. His hands are on my hips and he's grinding against me. The look in his eyes tells me he wants to take me home with him.
I feel absolutely nothing for him.
A few months ago, I would have been all over him. We would have gone back to his place, and I would have let him fuck me whichever way he wanted. Now I just feel empty, and I'm not sure why. When he leans down and kiss
es me, I allow him to, because I want to see if he can trigger something within me. My lips part, and I let his tongue stroke mine. He kisses me deeply, but I feel fucking guilty. He triggered something alright.
Guilt.
I feel like the only person I should be kissing is Caleb. My mouth tears away from his, and I shoot him an apologetic look before turning around to walk away.
I freeze when my eyes land on Caleb. He stands on the other side of the room, hands in his pockets, face full of disappointment as he surveys me from head to toe. The look in his eyes causes an iron fist to clench around my heart. With leaden steps, I tentatively walk over to him. Without a word, he puts his hand on my lower back and leads me out of the party and outside.
When we reach the front lawn, he turns on me, and his eyes search mine. “What are you doing?” he asks softly.
“What are you doing here?” I blurt out instead of answering his question.
“Charlie mentioned he'd seen you here when I ran into him at Ace's. I wanted to check up on you, make sure you were okay.” His lips twist. “I see you're doing fine.”
I chew my bottom lip. “It's not what it looks like.”
His eyebrow quirks. “No? You almost choked to death on your vomit on Friday, and here you stand a couple days later, partying as if none of it ever happened.” He leans forward slightly and inhales deeply near my face. “You smell like whiskey,” he says flatly.
“I'm being careful,” I say defensively. “It was only two shots. I only took them to relax.”
He looks at me sadly. “No, Zoey. You're still self-destructing. I thought...” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair with frustration. “I can't do this anymore,” he breathes out, as if coming to a decision.
“What do you mean?”
“This!” he bites out, waving a hand up and down at my outfit. “I thought we were getting to know each other, that we might actually be doing something right. Instead, here you stand in that damn silver shirt and 'fuck-me' skirt, letting some stranger put his tongue down your throat. You're drinking after I washed vomit off your skin a few short days ago. I spent the weekend trying to help you. I can't give you anymore of myself when you won't give me anything of yourself in return.” He pulls out his cell phone and walks away from me.
Poison Me Sweetly (Long Beach Series Book 1) Page 24