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It’s just a dream, give in.
“What do you want, cara?”
“My dream to become real, your life to mean more to you.”
“When you’re next to me, it does.”
In my dream, she kisses me and is just mine, and I breathe, forgetting for a while I have to do the right thing for her.
“Come back to me.” The call of my siren, the chanting of a thousand potent magic spells.
I let her lead, I let her give me what she wants. She lies on top of me, her scent, her beating heart, my home, my comfort, my life.
Chapter 31
I can’t believe he did this for me. He’d leave his life behind. I didn’t want to believe Kieran, but I doubt he gave a damn if I believed him or not. As I lie in his arms and caress his chest, I remember how I bumped into Kieran on my way to find Cato.
“Be the woman worthy of him. If my best friend can love you even after the shit you pulled, then fucking woman up, because my patience is wearing thin.”
“He doesn’t want me and stop threatening me.”
“I would have done so much more, but I can’t.” He lifts his palm and blood seeps through a bandage, the same as Cato and Cameron’s.
“What is this?”
“He took his one favor from Cameron. Do you know what he demanded? For us to let him move to New Jersey, for you to remain here, and for us to treat you like family.”
My hand shoots to my mouth.
“I don’t understand.”
“Change this, because if there is someone who could make him change his mind, it is you. He fucking feels too much. And if we’re not there to provide the balance, he will die and be fine with it. And I will fucking turn this world upside down if I lose my best friend. FIX THIS SHIT.”
With that, he storms away. I go to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of water.
Okay, Operation Fight For Cato Even Though He Doesn’t Want Me To activated.
I find him sprawled on the couch and the trace of alcohol is heavy on his breath.
“I will fight for you, and I will love you with everything in me. I’m not letting you go.”
His eyes blink open, dark coal but with too much life in those grays for me to allow him to go. No, we still have a lot of years ahead of us.
“What are you doing here?”
“We slept here.”
“Can’t remember.”
“Or you kissing me?” I show him my chest, the skin he branded with his kisses.
He shoves the sheet away, and I grip his hand, the injured one.
“I’m not giving up.”
“You should. I won’t let you back in.”
“I don’t need you to let me in. I will do that on my own.”
