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Silence falls between us. I shut my notebook, then fiddle with the metal spiral.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” Caleb asks. His voice is casual, but serious.
In my mind, I’m screamingAbsolutely not! Terrible, stupid,dangerousidea.Whatever this strange shift between us is, it won’t end well. For me. Despite living in the same town, Caleb and I are from two very different worlds.
But what comes out is, “Sure.”
Caleb rises from his sprawled position on the bench and walks over to the built-in cabinet directly across from the bed. He opens it to reveal a large flatscreen television, then he walks over and flops down on the lime green comforter that clashes horribly with the red walls.
I hover awkwardly, already regretting agreeing to stay. Caleb appears the picture of ease, tucking one arm behind his head. His sweatshirt rides up, exposing a sliver of skin. A flock of butterflies appears in my stomach, fluttering uncomfortably. Being alone in a bedroom with him suddenly feels like a bad idea for a completely different reason.
“Come on, Matthews.” Caleb pats the bedspread. “Don’t make it weird.”
I inch over to the bed, and finally take a seat on the edge, before lying down on the soft comforter. I make a point to keep as much distance as possible between us, which turns out to be a couple of feet, thanks to the oversized bed.
“Want to watchFrankenstein?” Caleb jokes as he flips through movie titles on the screen.
I scoff. “Pass.”
“What about this?” Caleb asks. I glance at the screen to see he’s pulled up some action thriller.
“Fine,” I say, raising a hand to mask the yawn I can feel coming. Lying down was a bad idea. Every limb of my body suddenly weighs a hundred pounds, sinking down into the foam mattress that’s way more comfortable than my own bed.
Caleb starts the movie. Gunshots and shouts sound from the television’s speakers. It’s not the silence I’m used to falling asleep to, but it doesn’t matter. I’m losing the battle with my eyelids.
I’m too tired to talk.
I’m too tired to insist Caleb drives me home.
I’m too tired to care that falling asleep in Caleb Winters’s bed is a really bad idea.
And then I’m too tired to think at all.
CHAPTERNINE
LENNON
There are a lot of places where I never expected to wake up. I’ve lived in Landry my whole life. Left the state of Kentucky exactly once and never been out of the country.
Waking up in Canada would have been less shocking than realizing I spent the night in Caleb Winters’s bed.
I bolt upright into a sitting position. The room’s mostly dark, despite the fact that the window shades on either side of the bed are wide open. The sun hasn’t risen yet.
The only light comes from the television, which casts a dim blue glow over the bed.
The bed I’m currently in.
With Caleb Winters. Who’s lying next to me, flat on his stomach, fast asleep.
“Caleb,” I hiss. He groans, but doesn’t otherwise react. “Caleb!” This time, I give his shoulder a light shove, and it’s enough to open his blue eyes.
He looks straight at me first, then lets his gaze wander to our surroundings, checking to confirm we’re still in his bedroom. His lazy perusal wanders back to me as he sits up slowly. “This is a surprise,” he admits, running a hand through his hair.
The action ruffles the dark strands into what should be comical disarray, but instead they manage to look perfectly tousled on purpose.
I clear my throat, shifting away so we’re not so close.
“Asurpriseis rain that wasn’t on the forecast. Waking up in bed withyouis more of a traumatic event,” I snap.
