“I was born ready.”
I took his outstretched hand and followed him to a clearing on the dance floor. Ben put his arms around my waist, and I hugged his neck. A slow intro had already begun to play, and the space around us quickly filled in with the crush of eager bodies.
I laid my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes. Ben was a good guy, a really good guy, but he wasn’t the one for me. And we both knew it.
I lifted my head after a couple seconds of moving back and forth, and stared up at him. “You know, you really are a great person, Ben,” I said. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you that, but you are.”
He looked down. “Thanks, Abbey. You’re pretty great too.”
“I’m really glad I had the chance to get to know you better,” I said. “And for the record, I think that you and Kristen would have made a great couple. I wish you could have had that.”
“Me too,” he said softly, and I laid my head back down on his shoulder.
We were almost to the end of the song when a sudden melancholy filled me. Sorrow, clear and striking, came over me, and it wasn’t just the slow music or the soft lyrics.
Somehow I knew that this was the last time I’d see Ben.
I slowed my movements, and came to a halt, moving my hands from his neck to his arms. “Ben,” I said urgently, “I want you to have the best of everything. Everything that life has to offer. The best school, the best job, the best house, the best wife, the best kids, the best family … Make yourself happy, okay?”
He glanced down. I was gripping the sleeves of his suit. “Okay, Abbey. But isn’t it a bit early for this? I mean, graduation isn’t for another six months.”
“I know. But I just want … Just be happy. I just want you to be happy.”
He gave me a strange look. “Let’s save the well wishes for-”
A teary-eyed Beth suddenly pushed her way through the crowd and interrupted us. Immediately I came to a halt and reached out a hand for her. “What’s wrong?” I asked over the noise. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“It’s Grant. I never should have brought him!”
I pulled her over to the side of the dance floor, and Ben followed us.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Something with Grant,” I yelled over the music. Thinking it would be a bit quieter away from the main stage, I left Ben behind and dragged Beth over to a table. I put my arms around her as she tried to stop crying. Her shoulders shook pitifully.
“What happened, sweetie?” I said. “Can you tell me?”
“He’s an asshole,” she said. “He was making out with this drunk girl outside. I went to go find you, and found him instead.” She burst into sobs again. “I never should have picked him over Lewis!”
Ben came over just in time to hear the last part. “I’ll go find him,” he said, his tone menacing.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Beth said suddenly. Pushing herself away from me, she stood up straight and fixed her hair. “I don’t need him. I’m going to call Lewis.”
Before I had a chance to stop her, she was pulling out her phone from her bag. She turned away from me, and I could hear her talking. A minute later she turned back and snapped her phone shut. “Great. Lewis can’t come. He’s home with his sick little brother and can’t leave him.”
She looked so miserable that I wanted to do whatever I could to make it all better. I glanced over at Ben. “Can you call the limo company?”
“Yeah, sure.” He pulled out his phone. “On it.”
After ten minutes of waiting, Ben finally talked to someone and made arrangements for the limo driver to come back early.
“We’ll all head out now,” I said. Then I looked at Ben. “Unless you want to stay?”
“I can’t let you guys leave your senior prom early because of me,” Beth protested. “I’ll be fine. I can just get a ride back on my own.”
I shared a glance with Ben. “I’ll go with her,” he said automatically.
Beth started to protest again, but I wouldn’t let her.
“At least you stay, then, Abbey,” she said, “so Ben can come back and you guys can have fun.”
“No. I-”
“Please?” She looked heartbroken, and I couldn’t help but give in.
“Okay. Fine. Whatever.”
“Okay, good.” She wiped the tears off her face.
Ben’s phone vibrated, and he looked down at it. “That’s the limo company. They’re here.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked Beth again.
“I’m a little embarrassed, but I’m fine,” she said. “You stay here. Have a good time.” She gave me a hard look, then suddenly hugged me. “Take care of yourself, Abbey,” she said quietly. “Okay?”
“Yeah, okay.” I pulled back from her. It was a strange thing for her to say, but she was already turning toward Ben. “Ready?”
He held out his arm, and she took it.
“Try not to take advantage of her tonight, okay, Ben?” I said with a smile, watching them go. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“I’ll be an absolute gentleman,” Ben called back, with a roguish wink. “See you in an hour.”
Beth waved at me, and they disappeared through the doors.
I was still on the dance floor when the next song came on. Within seconds My Chemical Romance’s “The Ghost of You” was playing.
I stood there, the bass growing louder, the beat growing harder. The lyrics were haunting, and they echoed in my ears as my eyes closed. The song took over, and I found myself swaying in time to the music as I sang along. “At the end of the world, or the last thing I see … You are, never coming home, never coming home … Never coming home, never coming home.”
It was then that I realized I was crying. Swiping both hands across my cheeks, I rubbed away the tears, and bits of my makeup, before going back to the table where my purse was waiting. I wanted to go home. Caspian was there while I was here, and it was almost … I glanced down at my phone. Almost midnight.
I shot a quick look around me, but I didn’t see Cacey or Uri to ask if they could give me a ride, and I wasn’t about to hang around waiting. I didn’t know how long Beth and Ben would be. Maybe I can walk.
Putting my phone back into my purse, I was pulling my hand away from it when all of a sudden it buzzed. I didn’t recognize the number.
“Hello?”
“Abbey? Hey, it’s Cyn. I know this is kind of weird, but … were you just going to call me?”
A creepy feeling settled at the back of my neck. I laughed weakly. “Are you stalking me, Cyn? I was just trying to see who I could call. I need a ride home from the dance.”
“I’ll explain everything when I get there,” she said. “Wait outside.”
While I waited for Cyn, I texted Ben that I was getting a different ride home, and she pulled up in a silver Audi about five minutes later.
“New car?” I asked, one eyebrow raised. “Holy crap, Cyn. You were holding out on me.”
She unlocked the passenger side. “It’s not mine. I … borrowed it. For the evening.”
I climbed in. The interior was all sleek black leather and chrome gadgets. She gunned the motor, laughing as I frantically scrabbled to grab hold of the seat belt. “You really do have a thing for cars, huh?” I said.
“You don’t know the half of it. It’s sort of a hobby of mine.”
I slid a hand over the smooth dashboard in front of me in awe. “Seriously, Cyn. Where did you get this? Is it rented?”
“No. It’s not rented. I told you, I borrowed it.”
The way she said “borrowed” made me feel unsettled. “We’re not going to get pulled over because we’re riding in a boosted car, are we?” I said seriously. “I really don’t need that right now.”
“There won’t be any cops.”
I shot her a look.
“Trust me,” she said. “I do this sort of thing all the time.”
“You steal car
s all the time?” I knew my jaw was hanging open.
“Not steal. Okay, technically, steal. But I see it more like borrowing. I always return it in the morning. And they never know.”
“They never know? You wouldn’t happen to be friends with Kame, would you? Or Sophie? What about Cacey and Uri?”
“Who?” She frowned, and I tried to read her face. Tried to see if she was bullshitting me. “I don’t know any of those people.”
I looked at her closely.
“Honest. I really, truly don’t,” she said.
“Then, what do you mean, ‘they never know’?”
She shrugged. “It’s sort of a gift that I have. I tell someone that I want to borrow their car, and they give it to me. Then I tell them that I’ll return it in the morning, and they don’t remember a thing. It just kind of … works.”
My life was getting entirely too complicated for this new piece of information. “Are you casting some sort of spell on them?” I joked.
She gazed at me. “If I said yes, what would you think?”
“Honestly?” I looked out the window before I answered. We were almost to my house. “I’m surprisingly open-minded.”
“I don’t really know if that’s what it is,” she confessed. “A spell, or whatever. All I know is that I get these feelings. Like the one tonight, to call you. That, and the fact that plants seem to like me. Maybe I am a little bit witchy.”
My house came into sight, and I was completely relieved. Normally I would have been happy to stay and talk to her about the freaky thing she had going on, but right now all I could think about was Caspian.
She pulled into the driveway and put the car into park. I unlocked my door and put one hand on the handle. “If you want to talk about it later, just call me. I’d stay now, but I have … something else that needs to be taken care of.”
She glanced at the house. It was dark, except for a single light in the kitchen, and then she nodded. I opened the door and got out of the car.
“Thanks for the ride, Cyn,” I turned back to say.
She winked at me. “Have fun, Abbey.”
I was left standing there with what must have been a confused look on my face as she pulled away. Does she know about Caspian? There’s no way …
I squared my shoulders and turned back to the house. Something told me that even if Cyn did have an idea of what was going on, she wasn’t going to tell anyone. At least not anytime soon.
I glanced down at my phone again, feeling a pinch of nerves in my stomach. It was 12:13 a.m. November first.
Caspian’s death day.
Chapter Twenty-one. NOVEMBER FIRST
When he entered the house, the conquest of his heart was complete.
– “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”
My legs were shaky as I walked up the front walkway, and I exhaled. I put one hand on the doorknob, turned it slowly, and then pushed the door open. A trail of red rose petals greeted me, leading the way across the living room and into the kitchen. I followed it and found a piece of paper there that said, Astrid, come find me upstairs.
Placing my purse on the counter, I slipped off my shoes, then padded over to the downstairs bathroom. My white dress was hanging on the back of the door there. Please let him like me in it …
Taking another deep breath, I unzipped the back of my red dress and wiggled my way out of it, draping it across the edge of the tub. I pulled down the white dress and gently removed it from its plastic garment bag. The silky fabric whispered across my skin as I stepped into it, and I could almost hear the soft sighs of another time and place. Of another woman, who had worn this dress before me, to go meet the man she loved before he would be taken from her forever.
The bodice took some extra time to lace because my hands were trembling, but finally, finally I was ready.
I turned and looked in the mirror, slightly stunned again by my miracle cleavage. The dress was just as beautiful as the first time I’d tried it on. It was as if it had been made for me.
My makeup, however, was not beautiful anymore. I pulled off the false eyelashes that I’d been wearing, and washed away the mascara stains from under each eye. Luckily, I had a spare cosmetics bag under the counter, so I was able to touch up my blush and lip gloss. I didn’t want to overdo it too much. It didn’t feel right in this dress.
I debated whether or not to take my hair down, but decided to leave it up. Caspian hardly ever saw me wear it that way and I wanted to surprise him. I did take out the rose that Ben had given me, though, and put it on the sink.
With one final look, I left the bathroom behind and started slowly up the stairs.
I could feel the rough pattern of the carpet runner underneath my bare feet, and I tried to focus on that. My stomach felt all fluttery and nervous, and with every step I took, I came closer and closer to the reality waiting for me just a few short feet away. Please, please let him like me …
Please …
The top of the stairs was lit with candles, and more rose petals were scattered on the floor. They pointed to my bedroom.
I bent to pick one of the rose petals up and rubbed the velvety smoothness between my fingertips. This is a dream. It has to be.
My bedroom door was open, and I could see more candles lit inside there. The flower petal path led me to the bed, and I didn’t even realize that I’d been holding my breath, until I stepped into the room.
Caspian was sitting there. Head turned. Looking away.
Holding my breath, feeling my chest get tight and my head grow fuzzy, I moved closer to the bed. Closer to him.
He was wearing a tuxedo. Classic black, with a white shirt and dark tie. His hair was swept back, but I could tell that stubborn black streak didn’t want to stay in place, and his green eyes were bright and unnaturally shiny in the candlelight. Twin orbs of flame reflected back at me in the irises.
He stood and took a step. Then another.
I held my breath again.
“You,” he whispered, bringing his hand to hover by my cheek, “are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”
And then he touched me.
A shock wave of feeling rolled through me, and I turned my face into his palm, closing my eyes, rubbing my cheek against his hand like a kitten demanding to be nuzzled. Demanding to be closer.
Finding it hard to believe it had been a whole year since the last time I’d felt his skin, my fingers were greedy and grasping, sliding onto his coat. Up his shoulder. Into his hair. I reached for him … and he was solid.
Caspian reached for me at the same time, and we crashed somewhere in between want and need. His free hand laced with mine, and I felt. Everything that was there, everything that made up him, I felt. The solid warmth of his fingers. The gentleness of his hand. Even the tiny bumps and ridges that were a part of his knuckles.
He cradled the back of my head, and it was blinding speed, and a mad, sweet rush as a tidal wave of emotion washed over me. The space between us had been there for so long, and now I was pressed against him, and laughing and crying, and trying not to let my makeup run all over the place again. …
And I could feel.
We could feel.
He was real, and I was real, and this was so real.
I tipped my face up, blindly searching for his. He pulled away his hands and traced my cheeks, my lips, my eyebrows, my chin. Any part of me he could touch, he touched. Slowly. Achingly. While the whole time I was going mad, burning from a fire within that was tearing me apart.
“Please, please,” I heard myself whispering. “Please …”
Then he kissed me. And I was lost.
If I’d thought I had been burning before, this was drowning. My lips coaxed his apart, and I couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t feel enough. Wasn’t close enough.
I pushed myself against him and ran a searching hand through the inside of his jacket. Closer. I wanted to be closer.
A shirt was in my way, and I wanted to howl in outrage. Hurriedly, I unbutton
ed the top button, and it gave way to skin.
I had found him, and he was mine.
Caspian groaned, and pulled me against him even tighter. I could feel all of him, even through the bulkiness of my dress. We moved backward, and a wall was suddenly behind me. My hands moved up, twining in his hair, and his hands moved down. Across my collarbone.
I couldn’t stop kissing him. Tasting him. Touching him. And my hands roamed freely. I had a lifetime of touch to make up for in such a short period of time.
He broke away and kissed my neck, I shivered. He slowed at a sensitive spot near the bottom of my ear, and my knees almost gave out. “Ummmmmmm,” I said.
“What’s that?” Caspian whispered. He lifted his head a fraction of an inch.
“Don’t stop. That’s what I said.”
“Oh, really?” He laced his fingers through mine, and pinned my hands against the wall. “Because I thought it sounded more like a moan than actual words.”
“Mmm-hmm,” I said, moving my head to give him better access. “Same thing.”
He returned his attention to my ear, and I barely noticed that he was looking at my dress until he pulled back again. “You wore that to torture me, didn’t you?” he said, lifting his head, eyes blazing a dark green.
“What do you mean?” I glanced down.
He freed one of my hands and pulled on the laces. “This. Is torture. Do you have any idea how long it’s going to take me to undo them?”
A wicked thrill shot through me, and I took a deep breath, causing the laces to strain. I shook my head. “How long?”
“Too long. Much too long. And with your hair up, all sexy like that, and just a couple of these curls teasing me by falling down …” He traced a loose curl, and then groaned again. “Torture.”
Suddenly he wrapped his arm around me, and we were moving to the bed, falling onto it. He pulled me down on top of him, and my legs wrapped around his as a sea of rose petals and the skirts of my dress billowed up around us. He ran one hand gently down my face.
“I’ve been waiting a very long time to do that,” he said. “And I think I need to do it again.”
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