Heat Up the Fall: New Adult Boxed Set (6 Book Bundle)

by Gennifer Albin

  “Not really,” she says, her voice strained. “I—

  My phone starts to ring. Romy stiffens and pulls away as I fish it from my pocket and see it’s Katie. I close my eyes and grit my teeth. Not now, I want to shout. “Hello?”

  “When are you getting home?” she asks, sounding out of breath.

  I look down at Romy, who seems pale and exhausted and shaky. Something’s wrong. “I might be a while.”

  “What? No, Cabe, I … I bought some razorblades from the drugstore today. I couldn’t help it.”

  My blood turns icy, making me shiver. “You what?” I whisper.

  Her voice turns high and childlike. Panicky. “I’m just … I’m just …” She starts to cry. Fuck. My sister is at home with a bunch of fucking razors.

  “Did you cut yourself? Are you bleeding?”

  Romy takes an unsteady step backward, her eyes wide.

  “N-no, not yet, but—”

  “Katie,” I say calmly, even though my heart is thundering against my ribs. “I want you to take them out to the dumpster and toss them in. Can you do that for me?”

  “I don’t know,” she says between sobs. “Cabe, I can’t stop all these memories. Every time I close my eyes, he’s there. I want to cut him out of me.”

  I grip the edge of the sink, wanting to slam my fist into something. “I’ll be there in ten minutes,” I say. “Can you stay where you are until then? Ten minutes. I promise.”

  “Okay,” she whispers.

  I jam my phone into my pocket and look back at Romy.

  “I guess I’ll talk to you later,” she says quietly.

  There are so many things I want to say to her. So many things. We’ll figure this out. I’m sorry. Help me. Forgive me. “Let me handle this, and then I’ll call you.”

  “Sure,” she whispers, and the helpless, sad sound of it holds me in place. She looks like she’s about to shatter.

  “Before I leave, tell me what’s happened,” I say. “I know something’s—”

  “Go,” she says. “You promised her you’d be there in ten minutes, and it takes that long to drive it.” She gently tugs my arm to get me moving for the door. “Go.”

  I do, because I have to. But it feels like I’m leaving my heart behind.

  I stride up the hall toward Romy’s apartment, my throat tight. Her phone is off, and it’s been hours since I saw her, pale and shaken and needing to hold on to me. I’ve been dying to get back to her ever since I walked away, but when I made it to my apartment, I found Katie there with her razors, and after one look at her, I knew I had to take her to the hospital. She’s dealing with all this traumatic shit, and the holiday season is absolute hell on her already. And I get it—I hate this time of year, too. The only thing that’s made it okay for me is Romy, and knowing we’re going to her parents’, but now I’m wondering if I can go. Katie’s going to be discharged a few days before we’re supposed to leave.

  I knock at Romy’s door. It’s after eleven, but I know she stays up late. When the door swings open, though, it’s not Romy standing there.

  It’s Jude. His jaw is tight as he says, “About time you showed up.”

  I glance past him, expecting to see Romy, but the only other person in the living room is a lean guy with brown hair shot through with gray. “Where is she?” I ask, more worried than ever.

  Jude pulls the door open, his voice soft but sharp as a blade. “Sleeping. Finally. I gave her one of my Xanax.”

  I step into the apartment. Her bedroom door is closed. “Did something happen to her?”

  Jude looks like he wants to punch me. “I’m not sure you deserve to know.”

  Rage flares inside my chest and I take a quick step toward him. “Don’t play games with me,” I growl. “I’m so fucking tired of games. Just tell me.” Goddammit. My fists clench, and my eyes burn. I left her at the co-op. Fucking walked away. I should have at least stayed and made her tell me what had happened.

  The guy in the living room comes to stand next to Jude. “I’m guessing you’re Caleb,” he says. “I’m Eric. And please forgive my boyfriend. He’s had a rough night.” He takes Jude by the hand and gives him a gentle shove toward the couch before turning back to me. “Romy had a little run-in with her ex today, and—”

  “What?” The heat of my rage becomes a cold sweat in a fraction of a second. “Did he hurt her?” I can’t believe this. I thought he was gone.

  “No, but it confirmed her fears that he’s been stalking her.”

  I blink at him. “Wait—what?” I look back and forth between Jude and Eric. “She hasn’t seen him since the night of the auction.”

  “Wrong,” snaps Jude. “She ran into him last week when she was Christmas shopping. He just happened to wander into the same boutique. Scared her to death.”

  “She should have called the police then,” Eric says to him.

  “I know, honey,” Jude says through clenched teeth.

  My mouth is opening and closing, but I can’t put words together. “She didn’t tell me,” I say weakly. Why didn’t she tell me? I would have done anything to protect her. I would have—

  “You have other priorities,” Jude says, staring daggers at me. After a moment, he crosses his arms over his chest. “Okay. I’m going to say something to you, and I want you to understand where this is coming from. I only saw your sister for a few sessions, and I haven’t seen her or heard about her case for two months. So I’m not saying this as her therapist.” His chin rises defiantly. “I’m saying this as Romy’s friend.”

  My heart stutters. “I’m listening.”

  “Romy is one of the most sensitive, loving people I know. She’s going to make a great counselor, because she wants to help people. Not as a job, but because that’s the way she is.”

  I try to swallow the lump in my throat. I know this about her. I love this about her. “Okay.”

  “For whatever crazy reason, she cares about you. More than she cares about herself, I think. She hasn’t wanted to make you choose between her and your sister, and she doesn’t want to stress you out.”

  “Stress me out?” Romy does the opposite for me. “I haven’t done anything to make her feel that way!”

  Jude gives me a look of utter contempt. “That’s not what I hear. How many times have you bombed out of Romy’s place to run to your sister?” He holds his hands up when I open my mouth to argue. “No, I know Catherine’s needed you, and Romy gets that. But you have made Romy feel like she was getting between you and your sister. Tell me you don’t downplay your relationship with Romy in front of Catherine. Tell me you don’t avoid touching Romy when you’re all together. At some level, Caleb, you’ve made your priorities really clear.”

  I take a step back, my thoughts a whirlwind as I think of all the times I’ve wanted to wrap my arms around Romy, all the times I’ve wanted to draw her near or kiss her but haven’t because Katie was right there. I’ve been telling myself I could save that for later, that I could keep what I have with Romy just for us, but now I realize how it must have felt to Romy—like I was pushing her away. Every. Single. Time. Fuck. Why didn’t she say anything?

  Jude nods as he sees the realization sink in. “And because of all that, when she ran into Alex last week, she decided not to tell you.”

  “I told her she should,” says Eric, examining his nails.

  Jude gives him a honey, shut up look that would make me laugh if I wasn’t ready to start shouting. Romy decided not to tell me she’d seen Alex. She told these two guys instead … because I’ve been so focused on Katie.

  She didn’t think I was strong enough to be there for her, too. Or she didn’t think I cared enough to do it. FUCK. I shove my hands in my pockets to keep from punching something.

  Jude’s eyes meet mine. “Today, Romy was driving back to her apartment from her internship, and she saw a red Acura in her rearview,” he says in a deadly quiet voice. “She told herself it wasn’t him. She wanted to believe she’d run into him last week
by chance, and that she was overreacting. Still, she decided to stop on Main Street to pick up some coffee—and to get the red Acura off her tail.”

  “But it was him,” I choke out.

  Jude nods. “She called the police when she recognized him.” He leans forward. “As he pulled in behind her.”

  “Fuck,” I whisper.

  “Indeed,” says Eric. “We think he wanted to bully her into withdrawing the personal protection order. But Romy’s good. She was carrying a copy of both the order and the proof that he’d been served with it in her purse.”

  “Right now I’m wishing she was carrying something else, too,” says Jude. “He was pounding on her window when the cops pulled up.”

  Eric gives me an evil smile. “And his arraignment is tomorrow. I’m really looking forward to it.” When he sees my confusion, he adds, “I’m her lawyer. And I’m going to make sure that asshole spends his Christmas in jail.”

  “He was following her,” I say hollowly. I suddenly remember that day she drove us out to Amy’s for Thanksgiving—she nearly ran a red light because she was so focused on something behind us, and she was so nervous afterward. “He probably has been for a while. And she kept it from me.”

  How did I let this happen?

  “She came to the co-op today,” I say, thinking back to her wide eyes, her pale face, how cold her hands were as she laid them on my warm skin. “I knew she was upset, but she didn’t tell me why.” I didn’t give her much of a chance to, either.

  “She was scared out of her mind,” Jude says, the cold light of accusation in his eyes. “Romy needed you, Caleb.”

  And I left her there. I left her there because my sister, who is constantly in crisis … was having another crisis. My feet carry me toward Romy’s room before I know what I’m doing. Jude grabs my arm but I throw it off, none too gently. Eric wisely pulls Jude away when he starts to step in front of me.

  “I told you she was sleeping,” Jude says. “She needs to rest, Caleb.”

  “I won’t wake her up,” I mumble. “But I have to see her.” Quiet as I can, I open her door and creep into her darkened room. Her slight body is huddled under a couple of blankets, and I kneel next to the bed, close but not touching her.

  I listen to her breathe. A swell of warmth crashes over me, so powerful that I bend beneath its weight. Romy. My Romy. Daniel was right. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. She’s the girl who trusts me, who thinks I’m worthy, who takes care of me. The girl who twists me up, then sorts me out. The girl who knows how to say things that have to be said … except when it comes to telling me she needs me, apparently.

  Katie’s not the only one allowed to have needs, Daniel said this afternoon. Romy needed you, Caleb, Jude said just now. Their words wind through my brain, pushing my other thoughts into place. Katie deserves love and safety, and that’s what I’ve always wanted for her. Romy deserves that, too, though. That and so much more. And she’s given me the chance to be with her, to give that to her—and I’m failing.

  I’ve failed at so many things in my life. I’ve had my ass kicked, and I’ve been a coward, and I’ve let people use me, and I’ve made all the wrong choices. But when I’m with Romy, I don’t feel so broken. I feel stronger.

  I feel like I’m healing. And I want to do the same thing for her.

  Something has to change. Something has to change now, or I’m going to lose her.

  I stand up and lean over her. The glow of a streetlamp from the parking lot filters through her lacy curtains. Romy’s eyes are closed, her long lashes casting shadows. I want to paint her like this. So beautiful. Everything I want. Everything I need. That’s what’s at stake if I don’t figure this out.

  “I love you,” I whisper, sinking back to the floor to sit next to her bed, a plan forming in my mind. “I love you.”

  I have no idea how many times I say it. I whisper it every time she exhales, every time she moves, every time I remember what she’s done for me, every time I think about what I want to experience with her by my side. I fall asleep with the words on my tongue, and when I tumble heavy into my dreams, I say it even then.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Romy

  I wake to the sound of breathing, but not my own. Blinking as the rays of the sun pierce my curtains, I look toward the noise.

  Caleb is crumpled next to my bed, his long legs bent, his head propped against the edge of my bedside table, still wearing his clothes from yesterday. It looks horrifically uncomfortable, but he’s deeply asleep.

  I stare at his face. He’s here. Last night, this was all I wanted. When Alex had been rattling my door handle, demanding I open up and talk to him, when his fists started slamming against the glass right in front of my face, it felt like every one of those blows hit me square in the chest. But I managed to hold it together—I was calm as I told the police officers who he was and pulled out the personal protection order. Alex insisted I had invited him there to talk, but no one listened to a word he said. They put him in cuffs and tucked him into the cruiser and carried him to jail.

  As soon as he was gone, though, I felt like I was disintegrating. The co-op was only a few blocks away, and I headed straight for it, praying Caleb would be there. I was so relieved when I saw his truck out front, and when I found him inside, washing his brushes, it was like coming home. Need and safety and longing all rolled together. I could barely speak. All I could do was cling to him.

  I’m not the only one who needs him, though. I’m not even the one who needs him the most. And if he’s here in my room, it means that Catherine’s probably in the hospital.

  Otherwise, he’d be with her.

  As silently as I can, I slide off the end of my bed and tiptoe for the door. Jude is making coffee in my kitchen. He looks up and smiles. “How are you?”

  “I’m okay,” I say, my voice creaky with sleep and all the tears I shed yesterday.

  “Eric went home to sleep so he could be fresh for today,” he says.

  I accept a steaming mug from him. “Thanks for coming over last night. I’m sorry I was such a mess.”

  “You had every right to be a mess. If you hadn’t been a mess, I’d be worried you were completely detached emotionally.”

  I smile. “Such a therapist.”

  “I think I’m getting the hang of it.” He pours coffee for himself. “So. You slipped past Caleb, I see.”

  “He was out cold. When did he get here?”

  Jude shrugs. “Late. Nearly midnight, I think.” He sips his coffee. “I might have said a few things to him.”

  “Oh no. Jude …”

  “I can’t help it, Romy! You deserve to have a guy who’ll be there for you!”

  “It’s not his fault,” I say quietly. “It’s not like he’s off partying or playing video games.”

  “Maybe not, but the fact that you chose not to tell him that you ran into Alex last week speaks volumes.”

  I cradle my coffee mug against my chest, letting it warm me from the outside in. “You know why, though. I feel terrible making things worse for him. I want him to have what he needs, and I’ve been trying to give him that, but …” I slump. “When I’m not doing well, I can’t handle it. I can’t be as supportive as he deserves me to be, and I want more from him than he’s able to give. I know you and I aren’t supposed to talk about it, but … Catherine’s not doing well, Jude. Caleb’s constantly having to run to her, and yesterday was no different.”

  Jude sighs. “I know.”

  I nudge his hip with mine. “You do? You’re actually going to cut him some slack?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Maybe a little. But only because he showed up last night.” His lips twitch. “And maybe also because he slept on your floor like an overgrown guard dog. I dig protective guys.”

  I chuckle. Eric is exactly that kind of guy, so I know he’s speaking the truth. “Good.” I glance down the hall. “He probably had a terrible afternoon and night.” And I was out cold from the Xanax.
“I wasn’t there for him, either.”

  A wave of hopelessness crashes over me. This isn’t fair to Caleb. He spends the evening with his desperately mentally ill sister, and then comes over to sleep on the floor next to his traumatized girlfriend. When does he get to worry about himself?

  “I don’t know what to do,” I say to Jude. “These problems aren’t going to magically disappear.”

  “You could walk away,” Jude says casually.

  “No, I don’t think I can.” My eyes blur with tears. “But I don’t think things can go on like this, either.”

  Jude rubs my back. “One thing at a time, okay? You have to get through today, and then you can deal with the rest of it. Go take a shower. Eric’s coming to pick you up in less than an hour.”

  Down the hall, my door squeaks open, and I hastily wipe at my face as Caleb comes down the hall, his long hair disheveled. His gray eyes search my expression as he draws near, watching me as if Jude weren’t even there. “They told me what happened,” he says to me.

  His hands are at his sides, and I so badly want him to reach for me, but he doesn’t. And though I want to throw myself at him and force him to catch me, I won’t. I don’t want to make him feel bad for yesterday.

  “I’m all right,” I say. “I wasn’t hurt. How’s Catherine?”

  His jaw clenches. “In the hospital. And I have to go. There’s a treatment planning meeting this morning, and I need to get there early.” He gives Jude a sidelong glance before returning his attention to me. “But we need to talk.”

  My stomach drops. Maybe he knows it’s too much, too. Maybe he’s figured out the same thing I have. He can’t constantly stretch himself between me and Catherine. It’s not fair to him at all. “I-I know. We should talk. But I have this arraignment today … and then, I was actually thinking I might go back to Grosse Pointe early. My finals are done and …”