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Chapter twenty-eight
With Caspian gone, and having taken any physical connection to my old life with him, I was lost all over again. It had been months since he left, and I still hadn’t stopped crying myself to sleep at night. He was the bridge between my old life and my new one. In the back of my mind, I always thought maybe there was a chance I would use that bridge to escape. Maybe I could go back. Now he was gone and that bridge had fallen.
Grey spent more time at home. We had dinner together. He even met me in the library for a drink on occasion.
We were friends.
But I was still lonely. I missed being wanted. I missed being touched. My own fingers and Lincoln’s face on a six-inch screen weren’t enough.
Maybe if I just got Grey drunk enough…
Maybe if I wore that black dress with the spaghetti straps and slit up the side…
Maybe I could make him forget…
Maybe we both could.
I was no longer the teenage girl he brought home all those years ago. I was a twenty-two-year-old woman now, but life had made me feel much older than that.
The sun was out today but there was a chill in the air, so I was reading inside instead of in the garden. Grey gave me internet access on my phone and an account to download all the digital smut I wanted. I was halfway into a book about a priest doing some unholy things with holy water, breathless and ready to shove my hand inside my panties when Grey walked into my room.
I dropped my phone and sat up straight, positive my skin was flushed. “For fuck’s sake, don’t you knock?”
His gaze moved from my heated face to the phone on my bed then back to meet my eyes. “Are you watching porn? If this is how you spend your afternoons, we need to find you a hobby. Horseback riding, perhaps.”
Right, because the cure for a hungry vagina is to straddle it on top of a six-hundred-pound, trotting beast.
I cleared my throat. “I wasn’t watching porn.”I was reading it.
He moved farther into my room, stopping at the foot of the bed. The corner of his mouth curled into a smirk as he held out a white envelope. “This is for you.”
I scooted to the end of the bed and grabbed the envelope. It was blank except for my name—my real name—in script on the front.Ms.Lyric Matthews.
My throat tightened around a lump. “What is this?”
He smiled. “Open it.”
I slid my finger along the flap, then pulled out the single piece of heavy cardstock inside.
Tatum Elaine Huntington
and
Caspian Rhys Donahue
Request the pleasure of your company at their wedding.
Saturday, the twenty-sixth of March
Two thousand and twenty-two
at two o’clock
I read it again.
And again.
Until my eyes filled with tears and I could no longer see the words. Time slowed to a near stop.
