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I found myself standing beside him, my fingers grazing the side of the bed—the soft fibers of his sheets igniting a tingling sensation that spread from the tips of my fingers up my arm. Even in sleep his face was pinched into a scowl. His eyes moved restlessly behind closed lids and his breath gusted between slightly parted lips.
Lips that had been on mine.
God, I’d enjoyed that kiss when it should have disgusted me. I had thought about it more times than I’d care to admit in the last week—especially as we played our games with each other. Daphne and Frankie were highly amused by Caelan’s behavior towards me. They told me he normally got violent when people pissed him off—like when he punched Cyrus tonight—but he didn’t get that way with me. He enjoyed our games too. I knew it.
My eyes lowered from his face to crawl over his chest. I itched to reach out and run my fingers over the dips and curves of his abdominals. I was curious to see if his skin was as soft as it looked. My perusal stopped when I noticed a tattoo wrapping around his ribs. I tilted my head, squinting so I could make out the small swirling letters.
Life is like a flame.
It burns bright for a while, then it flickers and fades, until finally one small breath extinguishes it and we're left with the ashes.
My breath faltered, catching in my throat. The words were beautiful, but so haunting, and I found myself saying aloud, “What happened to you?”
Of course he didn’t answer, he was passed out drunk and who knew what drugs were currently snaking their way through his veins.
Surprisingly, I wasn’t disgusted by him or what I knew he was doing to himself.
I didn’t even pity him.
I understood.
I knew how bad things could push you over the edge and make you do things you never thought yourself capable of. I’d been there. I’d experienced it. I’d lived it. Not to this extent, but enough that I could sympathize with the need to escape.
And wasn’t that what I was doing anyway by moving to Virginia? Escaping?
I hadn’t wanted to face my problems, so I chose to ignore them in the hopes that they’d evaporate.
I knew it didn’t work like that.
That didn’t keep me from hoping, though.
“Cayla!”
I jumped, my heart momentarily ceasing to beat in my chest at Caelan’s sudden outburst.
His eyes were still closed but his body thrashed with the force of his nightmare. “Cayla! No!”
I looked around wildly, wondering if I should run out the door or do something to comfort the obviously distressed Caelan.
Decisions, decisions.
I ended up leaving, running away and across the hall to the comfort of my apartment. I couldn’t risk him waking up and going crazy on me.
I did have some new information about him, though…well, my only information really, since I knew nothing about him except for his name, that he painted, and he hated noise.
Cayla.
It was only a name, but through it maybe I could peel back the layers of Caelan and expose the demons that lay behind his blue eyes.
CHAPTER 5
Sutton
A few days later, I was showered and dressed, sitting on the couch playing with an excited Brutus when there was a knock on my door.
I stilled, my heart stopping briefly and then restarting with a vengeance.
Things between Caelan and I had been oddly quiet the past few days.
