I knew I should do the normal Caelan thing and take her to her apartment, dump her on the floor, and not care what happened to her.
But I couldn’t.
No.
Old Caelan was resurfacing from a long slumber—resurrected from the dead—and Old Caelan didn’t leave drunk girls to fend for themselves. Fuck, I was starting to care and that was such a bad thing.
Caring isn’t bad, Cael. Cayla’s ghost voice echoed through my head. What you’ve been doing is bad.
“Shut up!” I screamed at the voice.
Reigning in my quickly accelerating temper, I looked down at Sutton. She was beautiful. She was warm. She was vibrant. She was a fighter. She was everything I was not.
I needed to distance myself, before we were both destroyed.
My gut told me that would be easier said than done.
CHAPTER 9
Sutton
My arms were wrapped around the softest, nicest smelling pillow I’d ever come into contact with. I squeezed it closer to my chest, inhaling the scent. There was something woodsy and masculine about the scent with bitter undertones of paint.
Paint.
Oh, shit.
I jerked awake, my eyes opening to take in the unfamiliar apartment.
With a scream, I fell out of the bed onto the floor.
I rubbed the sore spot on the back of my head where it had connected with the floor.
I heard rustling, then, peering over the edge of the bed was a boyish looking Caelan. His eyes were hooded with sleep and his blond hair stuck up wildly around his head. “Mornin’,” he yawned. “You know, you talk in your sleep, and you like to snuggle. I don’t like snuggling,” he glared.
“Why the fuck am I in your bed?” I cried, clutching my head, which throbbed painfully from a killer hangover as well as from getting bonked on the floor. I tried in vain to remember what happened last night, but all I could recall was alcohol and dancing. Lots of dancing.
“You didn’t know that rescuing idiot damsels is my second career? You really need to brush up on your Google searching skills. You’re lacking,” he tilted his head to the side. “Now that I know you aren’t going to die, or be raped, you can leave,” he waved his hand dismissively towards the door.
“You disgust me,” I spat, trying to get my wobbly feet to hold my weight so I could stand.
He lay in the bed, his arms crossed behind his neck, smirking at me.
And I was staring at his chest.
I really needed to stop that.
“Like what you see?”
His words snapped me back to reality. “No.”
Lie.
All I did was lie, or so it seemed.
When I moved my head to avoid staring at Caelan my eyes landed on a canvas lying against the wall beside his bed.
My mouth fell open slightly, studying the colors and the woman’s face.
“That’s me!” I finally cried.
He turned his head slightly to look at the painting I currently pointed an accusing finger at.
“Yeah,” he said in a lazy drawl, like the fact that he had painted my image was the most normal thing he could do. “So what?”
“It’s creepy!” I squirmed, realizing that upon further inspection I was sleeping in the picture, my features relaxed, and he must have done it last night. Which meant he’d watched me sleep. Weirdo.
“I paint lots of people’s pictures,” he waved his hand lazily to encompass the apartment. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
If I had been holding something I would have thrown it at his face to have something to do.
“You are—”
Before I finished speaking, he was out of the bed and had me pinned against the wall. He really had an annoying knack for slamming me against things.
“Don’t finish that thought,” he whispered, his eyes flicking down to my lips and then back up. My heart thundered in my chest, threatening to break free.
“What are you going to do, Caelan? Kiss me?” I challenged.
“No,” he shook his head, so that the slightly wavy strands of blond hair tickled my forehead. “You can beg and plead, but I won’t be kissing you again. Now, get out of my apartment,” he released me, turning for the bathroom. Before he could close the door, I was assaulted with a memory of last night.
With a gasp, I asked, “Did you hold my hair back last night while I was puking my guts up?”
He stopped, his back rigid. “Absolutely not,” he said without turning around. “That’s something a nice guy would do and I am not nice.” The bathroom door slammed shut and a moment later, I heard the shower turn on.
I knew he had held my hair back, the little liar. I couldn’t remember much from last night, but bits and pieces were now starting to trickle in.
If he thought I was just going to let myself out, he was sorely mistaken.
Like the nosy bitch I was, I scanned all his drawers, and opened all the cabinets in the kitchen.
Basically, the only thing in the kitchen was varying bottles of alcohol. Not much food—unless a half-eaten box of Frosted Flakes counted as sustenance for a twenty-something male.
I never did find any stash of drugs. I knew he had them somewhere. I’d seen the evidence on the table and he’d admitted such. I got the impression Caelan didn’t see the point in hiding his addictions. When you don’t care, you have nothing to lose. I wasn’t sure what I’d do if I found them—throw them away maybe? Move them to a different spot to mess with him?
I heard the shower cut off and figured I better get my ass out of there before he found me. I wasn’t in the mood to argue with him thanks to this terrific headache.
Spotting the canvas beside his bed, I snatched it up. After all, it was me that he had painted, so I should get to keep it.
I scurried towards the door, and opened it as quietly as possible.
I scanned the hall and ran into my apartment, breathing a sigh of relief that no one had seen me. It would’ve been embarrassing if someone had spotted me leaving Caelan’s apartment. They, no doubt, would have believed I was doing the walk of shame. Which I wasn’t. So, why did I feel like I was?
Brutus brushed against my legs and I bent to scratch him behind the ears. “Sorry I didn’t come home,” I told the kitten—who had grown immeasurably since I’d moved here.
Placing the canvas on the counter, I set the coffee to brew.
While the scent of much needed caffeine filled the air, I jumped in the shower to rinse off, pulling my hair back in a sloppy bun on top of my head. I dressed in a pair of leggings and a loose flannel button down shirt. I wanted a comfy day, and luckily I didn’t have to go into work until nine tonight.
Pouring a cup of coffee, I stood by the window, staring out at the street below. It had always amazed me how life went on around you. All these other souls, completely unaware of the turmoil churning around them, the secrets kept hidden. Ignorance really was bliss.
I was jolted from my thoughts by someone banging on my door.
Honestly, no one in this building had any respect. It was early, and I could have still been sleeping.
“What?” I bit out, opening the door with more force than necessary.
The person pushed past me and inside.
Caelan.
I didn’t even have to look.
I knew.
I turned sharply. “What are you doing? You can’t just barge in here!”
He spun around, his eyes wild and his nostrils flared with barely contained anger. “I can when you steal my fucking property!” He reached for the canvas, then clutched it against his chest like a small child would hold a stuffed animal. “You had no right to take this.”
“I had every right! You painted a picture of me!”
“It doesn’t belong to you,” he muttered, “it’s mine. I’m keeping it. You can’t have it.”
I rolled my eyes, exasperated with his strange behavior. He was acting like a petulant child.
“Fine, whatever.
I don’t care,” I tucked falling strands of hair behind my ears. “Take it and get the fuck out.”
“You don’t like me,” he stated.
No, I didn’t like him. Not really, at least. He fascinated me, and that was an entirely separate thing from liking someone.
“You’ve given me no reason to like you,” I crossed my arms over my chest and raised my chin defiantly.
“That’s because I don’t want you to like me, Sutton.” He closed the few feet separating us. He was really good at that—getting in my personal space. His lips grazing my ear, he continued in a silky voice, “I want you to fear me. I want to watch your body shake with anticipation of what I might do.” And then my traitorous body shivered a moment before he brushed his fingers lightly over my cheek. “We’re not good for each other. I need you to stay away from me.” The next word he said shocked me, gluing me to the spot where I stood. “Please.”
⌘⌘⌘
“You look like hell,” Emery said the moment I stepped inside the coffee shop.
“Thank you Mr. Observant. Would you like a sticker for pointing out the obvious?” My tone was snarky.
He raised his hands in defense. “Crabby too, I see. Is it that time of the month? Are you going to go all she-beast and try to eat me? I promise I taste awful, like rotting corpses and Sour Patch kids, ‘cause those things are nasty.”
His words had the desired effect and I couldn’t help laughing. Emery always managed to make me feel better, even when I wanted to sucker punch him.
Heading behind the counter, I said, “Yeah, last night was pretty wicked. I don’t remember much.”
“Too bad,” he shrugged, smiling. “I was looking forward to hearing all the details.”
“You’ll have to come some time,” I pushed the swinging door open with my hip. Daphne would shit bricks if Emery showed up. I didn’t know why she didn’t make a move. She was gorgeous and nice—a winning combination. But she always turned insanely shy around Emery. I might have to resort to the very high school ploy of knocking into one of them so that they ‘happened’ to accidently bump into each other.
“Maybe,” he shrugged, wiping off the already spotless counter. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”
Ignoring him for the moment, I headed to the back and dropped off my stuff and tied the apron around my waist.
When I returned to the front, I asked, “What is your thing then?”
Tucking the rag into the back pocket of his jeans, he pondered. “I don’t know. I’m a simple guy. I like to sing…thought about making a career out of it, but…” He trailed off, his thought left unfinished.
“I’ve never heard you sing.”
Grinning, he chuckled. “You’re really missing out, Sunshine.” Again with that damn nickname. “You should come by tomorrow at five. I sing then.”
“I think I will,” I smiled. It would be nice to have an excuse to get out, and not feel like a pathetic human being for only having myself for company. And Brutus. But I couldn’t really take him shopping.
“We could get dinner afterwards,” he suggested. At my bug eyed appearance, he added with a laugh, “As friends. Nothing more.”
“Sounds good.” I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
The next few hours were highly uneventful until around one in the morning. That damn bell on the door chimed, jolting me awake where I had nodded off. Standing up straight and smoothing my hands down my shirt, I looked up to find myself face to face with Memphis.
My mouth fell open as all the memories of last night finally resurfaced with startling clarity.
A blush stained my cheeks and I didn’t know what to say or how to act. I’d basically mauled the poor guy last night.
“Can we talk?” He asked, clearing his throat and looking around awkwardly.
“Uh—”
“She can talk,” Emery said from behind me.
I turned sharply and gave Emery a scathing look for throwing me under the bus. I think he wanted Memphis and me together as much as I refused to let go of my hopes for Daphmery.
His shoulders raised in a small shrug as a shameless smile twisted his lips. “We’re not busy.”
He was right. The place was empty besides us, and one lone college student reading a book in the corner.
“I hate you,” I mouthed.
“No, you don’t,” he laughed, clearly enjoying my complete and utter mortification. Emery had no idea what I had done to Memphis last night. “Here, take these,” he quickly poured two black cups of coffee into mugs.
Grasping the mugs, I forced a smile and turned around once more to face Memphis. “Where do you want to sit?” I asked.
He nodded his head towards a table and I came around the counter to join him.
I sat down, feeling out of place and uncomfortable. Staring into the dark depths of the liquid, I avoided his scrutiny, but it didn’t stop me from feeling it.
“I wanted to apologize for last night—” He started, but was abruptly cut off when my head went flying up, a started sound escaping me.
“You want to apologize? You? If I recall, I was the one making a fool of myself, throwing myself at you like…like…” I was at a loss for words.
“But I wasn’t stopping you,” he cleared his throat, scooting the chair forward so that we were even closer.
“You tried to!”
“Initially, sure,” he shrugged. “You were obviously drunk and I wouldn’t take advantage of you, I’m not that kind of guy. I’m also not the kind of guy to have one-night stands. Just because I have a dick, doesn’t mean I think I need to insert it into every pretty girl that walks by.” That got me to smile. “But later, when you were dancing,” he swallowed thickly, his gray eyes flashing a darker color for a moment before returning to normal, “I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from taking things further. You made it obvious that you wanted me, which made it impossible for me to reign in my desires.” He took a sip of coffee, an obvious stall tactic. “I need you to know that I’m sorry. If I had known you had a boyfriend I would’ve never let you flirt with me like that. I know he was pissed and—”
I kept replaying that single word over and over in my mind. “Boyfriend? I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Uh…” He leaned forward, looking perplexed. “Wasn’t that guy that came in and hauled you out your boyfriend?”
“No!” I scoffed. “That’s just…” I had no description worthy enough other than, “Caelan. He’s just Caelan.”
“And do you have a thing with him?” He probed.
“Absolutely not. He’s just my nosy neighbor that can’t mind his own damn business,” I glowered at Memphis, and I wasn’t even mad at him. Oh no, my anger was directed at an entirely different person.
“Are you sure?” He continued with his line of questioning. “The way that guy looked at me when he grabbed you up…I think he wanted to kill me.”
“Don’t you worry about him,” I seethed. “He’s just a very angry, confused person.”
“Does this very angry, confused person think you’re his girlfriend?” He continued, this time mischief sparkled in his eyes, but I was still livid.
“No! He is not my boyfriend! Not now, not ever!” My hand smacked sharply against the top of the table and a bit of coffee sloshed out of the mugs. “Now,” I slid the chair back forcefully so it knocked into the one behind it, “I have to get back to work. As you can see, we’re very busy,” I said sarcastically, spreading my arms wide to encompass the nearly empty shop. I was irritated with Memphis for assuming that Caelan was my boyfriend—but frankly, I was more mad at myself for wishing there was something between Caelan and I.
I walked slowly into the back of the store where only employees were allowed. I refused to stomp my way there and act like a child, even though I felt like it.
“How’d it go?” Emery asked as he reclined on the couch and stared at the small TV that occupied the employee break room.
“I hate yo
u so much right now,” I unleashed my glare on him.
“What did I do?” He blinked innocently.
“You know exactly what you did,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands. I was angrier with myself, than Emery, but it was so much easier to take that aggression out on him.
“Actually, I don’t,” he sat up straight, looking at me with concern. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” I shook my head back and forth rapidly as I let my hands fall away from my face.
“Did something happen between you guys?” He questioned.
The way he stared at me made me feel as if I was a specimen being peered at through the lens of a microscope. I got the impression Emery didn’t miss much.
I didn’t want to talk about this with him, but I knew I didn’t have any choice. He’d only keep pestering me.
“I guess you could say that,” I muttered, looking at the ceiling.
“Did you guys…?” He let the thought trail off, but it was easy for me to fill in the blanks.
“No!” My tone softening, I added, “Almost. I wanted to.”
“And he stopped it?” Emery tilted his head to the side, no doubt assuming that’s what had happened and the reason for my current pissed off state.
“No.”
“Elaborate, Sunshine. Don’t make me imagine the details for myself,” he waved a hand in a gesture for me to carry on.
“Someone stopped us,” I admitted, my words were bit out painfully, the shaky sound barely above a whisper.
“Someone?” Emery raised a brow. “And who would this someone be?”
“Just my asshole of a neighbor. He doesn’t know how to mind his own business,” I grumbled.
“Well, you sure know how to get around,” he grinned easily, laughing under his breath.
“It’s not funny,” I frowned. Forcing my fingers through the strands of black hair framing my face, I huffed, “Just don’t bring this up again and stop pushing me towards Memphis. I don’t need your help. Besides, you’re a guy, so why should you care about my love life?”
The question was rhetorical but he answered anyway.
“I’m not. I’m just bored,” he moved to lay back down on the couch, “and boredom makes me do dumb things.”
Beauty in the Ashes Page 10