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As if the nausea from looking at that image wasn’t enough, a sudden zing of pain shot through my head, and I bit my lip to stifle a groan. Caiden didn’t miss it, though. “You need your painkillers,” he stated. Moving me back to my own seat, he pushed back his chair, the legs scraping against the floor, and headed out of the kitchen. He reappeared a couple of minutes later with two tablets, which I swallowed with my Coke.

“I need to rest. Sorry, I feel really wiped out.” I rubbed my head again. “I thought I was okay, but I guess not.”

“You can’t expect to recover that quickly. You had a traumatic head injury, not to mention all that bruising on your face. You were out of it for almost five days straight.” Cass gave me a severe look. “We’re not gonna let you do anything except rest and recover, until you’re back to normal.”

“But—”

He held up a hand. “Sorry, we already agreed. Kinslee, too.”

I swallowed hard around the lump in my throat. They really did care about me. In such a short space of time, the people in this room had become the most important people in my life. “Thanks,” I managed to say.

“C’mon.” Caiden pulled me to my feet, and we headed into the lounge, where he set me up on the sofa under a blanket. He then crossed to the door and spoke to someone on the other side, then closed it firmly behind us.

Time to have the conversation I’d been dreading. I could only hope that Caiden believed me.

SEVEN

Returning to me, Caiden sank down next to me on the sofa and turned to meet my eyes, his stormy gaze troubled, torn between concern and the clear need to know what had gone down with me and James. “You up to talking? I asked the others to leave us alone for a while.”

“Yeah. Listen, I was in the library, and James tried to kiss me. I pushed him away as soon as I recovered from the shock. I don’t know what’s going on, but…” My voice trailed off as I stared at him. “Cade? You do believe me, don’t you?”

He scrubbed a hand across his face, and the hesitation before he answered told me everything. Everything I didn’t want to hear.

He exhaled heavily, staring straight ahead. “I want to. I mean, I do. Look, you have to understand how fucking bad that video looked. I see my girl all over Granville, hugging him and touching his face, then the next minute, you’re kissing him.”

“Are you serious right now? Don’t you trust me?” I couldn’t help the frustration, and yeah, anger, that bled through my tone.

He was silent for a long moment, his eyes meeting mine again, just looking at me, letting his walls down so I could see the torment in his eyes. A pain started in my chest, spreading the longer he remained silent, and I dug my nails into my palms to give myself something to concentrate on to stop myself from crying.

“Fuck…Winter. It’s not— I find it hard to trust,” he finally admitted in a low, defeated voice, and my eyes filled with tears.

“Caiden. Do you want to be with me? Like in a real relationship?” I leaned closer to him, watching him intently as all his emotions played out on his face.

“Yeah.”

A tear rolled down my cheek. “If we don’t have trust, what do we have? How can we have a relationship if you won’t let yourself trust me?”

He closed his eyes, his jaw tightening. “I don’t know. Fuck.”

I steeled myself. It was clear he needed to get things straight in his own head. “I-I think we should take a step back and re-evaluate things. Just be friends for now. Maybe it’s better if we just concentrate on getting to the bottom of whatever’s going on with my mother.”

His eyes flew open, and he looked at me, his expression shuttered. “If that’s what you want.”

“It’s not what I want, but if you can’t trust me, we can’t have anything real, or solid.” Somehow I managed to get the words out without my voice cracking, even though they broke me to say them. I’d thought he trusted me, especially since he’d told me about his mum, something that was personal and clearly still haunted him. Maybe he’d even thought he trusted me. I could deal with his possessiveness, and his jealousy, but now the incident with James had happened, and if he was doubting what I was telling him, then it proved just how fragile that trust was.

If he couldn’t trust me, then we couldn’t be together.

“Fuck.” He took a deep breath, bringing his hands up to cup my face. “Listen. I want you, but I can’t help the way I feel.” Clenching his jaw, he bit out, “I still feel fucking rage every time I think of his hands on

you. You’ve got history together. Rationally, I know you’re not lying to me, but…” He trailed off and shrugged helplessly.

“Okay. I can’t do anything more to change your mind, you know that, right? You need to decide you can trust me.” I leaned forward, kissing him softly on the lips, trying so hard not to lose it, my vision clouding as my eyes filled with tears. “Friends, then? For now?”

“I…” He sighed, defeated. “I guess so, yeah.” His voice was low and unhappy. “Friends it is.” He ran his thumb lightly across my cheek, placed a kiss to the bruise that was still prominent on my cheekbone, then he got to his feet. “I’m sorry, Snowflake,” he gritted out, and then he was gone.

As soon as the door closed behind him, I breathed in and out deeply, counting under my breath, suppressing the misery that was trying to rise to the surface. I didn’t want to give anyone yet another reason to worry about my well-being.

And I still held out hope.

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