Deliver Us (The Sinful Duet Book 2), Page 3

  But it does bother me, tremendously, because I’ve withheld from sex and I’m in a relationship. I don’t want to admit my abstinence from sex with Nick has something to do with Caleb, but it does. It has everything to do with him.

  I turn away from him, and he snags my forearm in his grip. “Wait. What? I haven’t…” Realization flashes across his features. “That wasn’t me.”

  I roll my eyes and shrug out of his grip. “I don’t care who it was. I just want some sleep.”

  He takes my forearm again, and I exhale in exasperation, letting him angle my body and pull me in close. He glides his hands up my biceps and inches me closer. I press my hands to his chest to keep from resting against him, to keep my braless breasts off him.

  “I haven’t had anyone,” he states, his green eyes boring into mine. “Not since you.”

  I flick my stare over his face, looking for a hint of insincerity. “No girls? None?”

  “None.” He flicks the rough pad of his thumb over my arms. “I want you or nobody.”

  “A year without sex? Are you even Caleb anymore?” I taunt, an attempt to take conversation in a different direction, away from us. “What do you do to fill the time?”

  He simpers. “I’ve been posting memes to Facebook, mostly.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “You should. One page voted me meme king.”

  “An accolade that makes your father proud, I’m sure.”

  He laughs, and the sound is…well, I’ve missed it.

  “I like us like this,” he says, and I turn my head to avoid his longing stare. He catches my chin with the tips of his fingers and guides me back. “I’ve missed you, Cass.”

  My heart races in my chest as I gaze up at him. My lips part on and off, but I can’t bring myself to return the sentiment. I want to. I can see how bad he wants me to say it aloud. It’s reflected in his minute frown, his glossy eyes, and his tight chest. To confess how I feel about him eats at me. It’s eaten at me every day since I left Paradise Valley. Countless times I’ve packed my bags and walked to the train station with the sole purpose of traveling to the airport and flying back home, only to pull out at the last second. I couldn’t go back to my parents—not my father who hated everything about me, nor my mother who was too afraid to stick up for me, and certainly not Caleb who didn’t care enough to call me.

  I exhale, dropping my shoulders, and Caleb tightens his jaw. “You don’t miss me? Not even a little bit?”

  I sigh in exasperation. “What difference does it make? Of course I miss you, Caleb. You were my first love, you helped me accept who I was, and you taught me how to put myself first.” I pull my face out of his grip. “But you’re relentless and stubborn, and your toxic behavior leaves ruined relationships in its wake.”

  His slender nose twitches, and he grits his teeth to hold back his offense. “Your parents were smothering you.”

  “Yeah. They were, but they’re my parents, and I never wanted to be at odds with them, not like this.”

  Caleb pulls his hands from me and folds his arms tightly over his chest. “I’m failing to see the point you’re trying to make.”

  I scowl at him. “Forget it.”

  I turn away and storm toward my door as fast as my tired legs will take me.

  “Cassia?”

  I clench my jaw and pull the door open. I stomp inside and fling it shut behind me, but it doesn’t slam shut, and my stomach takes a dive. Closing my eyes, I stop on the edge of the open living room and tilt my head to the ceiling in exasperation, begging God—begging anyone—to help me stand my ground against this relentless man. How much longer do I have to fight him? How much longer are we going to play this stupid, infuriating, cat and mouse game? It’s been months. Months. Exhaling, I open my eyes and turn around.

  The door clicks shut, and he leans against it, his face pinched and angry. It’s phenomenal that even a look so sour, so hate-filled, is breathtaking on him.

  “You think I’m toxic?” he asks, frowning, and I shake my head, not wanting to feed the negative thoughts in his head.

  I know what he thinks of himself, and there are scars on his thighs to prove it.

  “You? No, but I think the way you do things is. You can’t let my relationship with Nick run its course? You have to destroy it and make me look like the bad guy when it blows up?”

  It’s no secret my parents think I’m the bad influence. His father does too, and God only knows what his sister thinks of me by now. The muscle in Caleb’s jaw feathers, but he doesn’t offer a counter argument. He watches me with those green eyes of his, a deep frown on his face, like he’s in pain. Then he pushes off the door, and I suck air between my teeth as he stalks toward me, each step purposeful and predatory. For every step he moves forward, I take two back until I’m flush against Nick’s big, wooden bookshelf and Caleb is only a hairsbreadth away. His warm, shallow breath skitters across my cheek, and I part my lips to let out a shaky exhale.

  “Do you lo…” He clenches his jaw, withholding the end of his sentence.

  “Do I what?”

  I know what he’s asking. He wants to know if I love Nick, but what I want is to hear the question come from his lips. I want to analyze every twitch on his face as the words leave his mouth and echo into his ears. Mostly, I want to watch the realization as it dawns on him, realization that he made a mistake when he let me go, that I deserve every right to move on without him.

  “Fucking…” He clamps a hand around a shelf above my head, startling me. “Don’t make me say it.”

  “I want you to say it,” I snap at him, poking my finger into his chest. “I want to see the look on your face when you realize you fucked up.”

  He seethes. “Well, aren’t you an ice queen. If only you had balls this big when you lived with your parents. Would’ve saved us a lot of trouble.”

  Scowling, I push my finger harder against his chest. “You can go now.”

  Caleb glances down at my finger, then his eyes move along my knuckles, and a wide smile manifests on his lips. I tilt my head and take my hand back, only for him to snatch my wrist and pull it close to his face.

  “Is that a purity ring?”

  I rip my hand away from him and hide it behind my back. Blush flares in my cheeks, raging like wildfire as his eyes widen and flash with devilish excitement.

  “You haven’t had sex with him yet.”

  I grit my teeth. I don’t want Caleb to know Nick and I haven’t had sex because I know he’ll take it and run with it. I rub my fingers over the engraved silver around my wedding finger. I bought this stupid thing off Etsy to keep Nick from pressuring me into sex. Before this ring, he was relentless, and not in a sexy way. He overwhelmed me with his need for intercourse, so much so I was ready to move out and leave, but I had nowhere to go. It’s scary out there in New York City, and Nick’s the only person I know now Fiona is gone. I bought the ring as one last attempt at getting him to slow down, and it works well enough. We’ve done other things…but not sex.

  “Y-yes I have,” I lie.

  It’s not that Nick repulses me. He’s not unattractive, he bathes frequently, and he can be kind to me when he’s not in a mood. There’s just something about him that rubs me the wrong way. I feel uncomfortable in his presence, like I have to walk on eggshells. When I turn Nick down for sex, he doesn’t talk to me for weeks. He goes to parties and has females call me on the phone at all hours and ask me why I haven’t wrapped my legs around him yet. He spends the following few days showering me with gifts and pleasantries, making me feel guilty for despising him.

  At this point, I’m confused. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know if I like Nick or loathe him. I don’t know if I love him or want him to catch Pneumonia and die this winter.

  Some days I really like Nick and can see myself with him for the foreseeable future. Others, it’s painfully obvious we’re two very different people, and the realization causes a sick sliver of dread to slither down m
y spine.

  “Liar.” Caleb leans in close, so close I can smell beer and feminine perfume on him. “So he thinks you’re a virgin? That you’re saving yourself for marriage?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” I snap, pushing against his chest to put space between us. I push off the bookshelf. “He knows I’ve had sex.”

  “Then what’s the point in the ring?”

  “The point is,” I hold my hand in front of his face and wiggle my ring finger, “this keeps him from sniffing at me like a dog in heat every day. I wanted to see how things pan out between us before I jump into bed with someone who might be wrong for me.”

  “He is wrong for you.”

  I scoff. I’m not surprised. He’d say that about the freaking Prince of England. “Yeah? And you’re right for me?”

  “You’re damn right I am.”

  I roll my eyes and turn my head, only for him to catch my face in his hands, squeezing my cheeks together, forcing my lips to pout.

  “You’ve been with Dick, what, six months?”

  “It’s Nick, short for Nicholas,” I speak through squished lips. “You fucking know that, and we’ve been together longer than six months.”

  His eyes flare. “And you haven’t fucked him?”

  I purse my lips as guilt swirls in the pit of my stomach. When it’s said aloud like that, it makes me feel bad, like sleeping with Nick is something I should be doing to give back to him, to keep him happy. Isn’t it worse, though, to have sex with someone when your heart isn’t in it? I love sex. I’ve always loved sex, but I’ve never wanted to give my body to anyone and everyone. Thomas, my first, was my best friend. I trusted him more than I trusted anyone, and he was safe. He was just as vulnerable as I was, and we protected each other, cared for each other. Caleb, however, made me feel lust for the first time in my life. What we had was beyond anything I’ve ever felt, beyond anything I’ve ever read. I’ve never felt the way he made me feel. Electric. Alive. Like I was on fire. I’d never wanted anyone the way I wanted him.

  And Nick…well, he’s Fiona’s friend, not mine. We have no history, no real chemistry, but I can tell he really likes me. Maybe even loves me.

  “What more proof do you need for you to see your relationship with him is one huge mistake?” Caleb asks, interrupting my thoughts. He eases closer once again, pressing his body against me, easing me into the bookshelf. “You’re meant to be with me and you know it.”

  Releasing my face, he grips the wooden shelf beside my head in one hand and cups my cheek with the other, the pad of his thumb by my lower lip. I hate my breath is shallow and quick, matching the thump of my heart. It’s a dead giveaway to how flustered and bothered he gets me.

  “If you’re sure we’re meant to be together, you wouldn’t feel so threatened by Nick,” I say, and his thumb twitches. “To answer your first question, no. I don’t love him, but I could…eventually.”

  Caleb sucks air between his teeth and presses his firm body harder against mine. Agitation rolls off him in waves and, by my head, the bookshelf creaks as he squeezes the wood in his grip. “If you’re trying to get a rise out of me, congratulations. I’m pissed, jealous, and full of regret. You’ve got what you wanted, so now you can end it with him and come back to me.”

  I screw my face up. “That’s what you think this is? Me rebelling to get revenge on you breaking my heart?”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “No,” I snap, shoving his hand away from my face. “You know me better than that, Caleb. When have I ever hurt someone on purpose? I plan on seeing my relationship with Nick through. I promised him I’d—”

  “I’m going to ruin it,” he threatens, his voice low and angry as he cuts me off. “Before he gets the chance to lay a finger on you, before you trick yourself into falling in love with him.”

  I push against him and get nowhere. He’s so much bigger than I am—bigger than he was a year and a half ago. I blow frustrated air out of my cheeks, and my muscles unclench in defeat. “You’re selfish.”

  “Yes.” His stare falls to my lips, and his eyes become hooded.

  I wait for him to expand on his sentence, to give me a reason not to, but he doesn’t. “Yes? That’s all you’ve got to say?”

  He drags his intense gaze back to mine, and I hold my breath. “You want me to apologize for it? For being selfish when it comes to you?”

  “You’re selfish about everything,” I say on exhale, and his attention falls to my mouth again.

  “You the most.”

  I purse my lips into bloodless lines, then release. “Stop looking at my mouth like that. I’m not going to kiss you.”

  His lips twitch into a smirk. “Why? You used to love it so fucking much.” He leans closer, and my breathing turns shallow, my palms sweaty. “You were such a needy little thing, weren’t you? Couldn’t get enough of it. My lips, my fingers, my c—”

  “Caleb,” I hiss, baring my teeth.

  Why is he tormenting me? Why is he forcing me to remember how it felt with him? I’ve never forgotten it. I’m painfully aware how good it was. Memories keep me up some nights—more so now he sleeps on the other side of my bedroom wall.

  Pulled in by his arresting magnetism, I tilt my chin higher, and the oxygen in my lungs becomes thick and heavy, causing the sensitive tissue to burn. Anticipation, in the form of tingling goosebumps, prickle all over my body and refuse to let up.

  “Just one kiss, Cass. Nick’s not home.”

  “I…” I moisten my lower lip with the tip of my tongue.

  “A little kiss between friends never hurt anyone.”

  We’ve said that before, and it hurt my parents in the end. It hurt his father too. Regardless, my attention falls to his mouth. I hate that it does, as if looking at them is betraying Nick.

  I shake my head. It’s minute, barely a movement, and I quickly open my mouth to voice my disagreement before my heart takes over and speaks for me. “I don’t know what kind of girl you think I am, but—”

  “My girl,” he bites out, his nostrils flaring as he slams his hand against the bookshelf, making it shake. Two books fall from the unsteady stack on the very top and crash to the floor. I bring my shoulders up, bracing for more to fall on our heads. “You’re my girl.”

  I tilt my head, my heart sinking into my socks, and the words I want to speak escape me. What can I say to make him feel better without disrespecting what Nick and I have? Nothing.

  “If you’re not going to kiss me, at least tell me how relieved you are it’s not me banging against your wall, because if you really don’t care…maybe I am wasting my time here in New York after all.”

  My eyes prickle, and I squeeze my tongue against the roof of my mouth. So I tell him I’m relieved it’s not him and that he’s saved himself for me this whole time, then what? We ride off into the sunset together? There are factors—important ones—he’s not thinking about. Sure, he’ll be happy, but he doesn’t have to have the conversation with Nick. He doesn’t have to live with the guilt. I lied to Nick. I claimed not to know Caleb. To admit that lie is humiliating. I should’ve introduced Caleb as my ex-boyfriend in the first place. Nick wouldn’t be so blasé about having him around then. Instead, I panicked and lied through my teeth.

  “Tell me you’re over me and I’ll go back to my party and enjoy myself without the guilt, without giving your feelings a second thought, since you don’t have any for me.”

  I fight off a glare and swallow the bitter jealousy of him with someone else. Who am I to deny him that? Who am I to deny him companionship and physical contact? It’s not fair.

  I clear my throat, then swallow. What I’m about to say next needs to come out clear, even, and precise, for the sake of my relationship with Nick. “I don’t care what you do or who you do it with. I only ask that you keep it down.”

  Caleb withdraws from me, his eyes darkening before avoiding mine altogether as physical pain seeps across his expression. It lasts a second before he conceals it with a malicious
sneer, and his troubled stare flicks to mine again, tossing me into a bottomless pit of remorse and regret.

  “Suit yourself.”

  He turns away, and a dreadful heat spreads under my skin—an anxious heat I don’t like. I open my mouth to stop him, only to clamp it shut. My heart hurts. It squeezes and expands until my ribs ache with the pressure. Why did I say that? Why did I have to be so callous with his feelings?

  Caleb storms up the single step and onto the landing. He reaches out for the handle and pauses. His shoulders tighten, and his back straightens as he draws himself to full height. Without a glance over his shoulder, he rips the door open and slams it behind him, making me flinch.

  The prickling, unshed tears in my eyes rush me and spill over the rims, blurring my vision completely as they drip onto my cheek.

  “You did the right thing,” I whisper to myself, but it doesn’t help any.

  Shaking, I step away from the bookshelf and bend to pick up Nick’s fallen books as guilt shreds my heart into pieces. I did the right thing.

  *Caleb*

  I throw open my apartment door, and it crashes against the door stop, squeaking as the rubber is compressed, startling a small group of women standing next to it, making them spill their drinks. Gritting my teeth, I push through the ever-expanding crowd toward my room, clenching my jaw and my fists against the urge to shove people out of my way. Alcohol swirls in my empty stomach, burning like acid, and I regret every sip I’ve taken tonight, like I do most nights.

  When I finally reach my bedroom, I grab the handle, turn it, and shove the door open.

  “Christ!” I snap as my eyes are assaulted by a bare male ass and two sets of tits. I whirl on my heel, glaring out into the crowd. “Get out of my room.”

  I wait impatiently, tapping my foot on the stone floor as they laugh and giggle and fumble to put their clothes on. How’d they get in here? I thought I locked my door.

  The threesome pushes past me snickering, their heads ducked, their shoulders lifted. I glare at the backs of their heads until they disappear into the throng, then slam my bedroom door and lock it. I pace back and forth in the space before the foot of my bed. I should’ve kissed her. I should’ve reminded her of what we had. I’ve been fucking good. I haven’t taken anything from her, despite my urge to. Exhaling, I sit on the end of my bed and push my fingers through my damp hair, squeezing it in my fists. Anxiety carves its way through my chest, and nausea strikes. Maybe I’ve been reading her all wrong. Maybe she really is over me—over us. Fuck! I leap to my feet and rip the sheets and blankets off my bed. Rubbing my face, I drop onto the mattress and close my eyes. My brain pulses with the thumps of the music over and over. Glass smashes, a girl squeals, and there’s roars of laughter.