Poison Me Sweetly (30 page)

I open my eyes with surprise and look at him
questioningly. “Why are we stopping?”

Caleb glances at his watch and groans. “No time. I
have to get to the center.”

My mouth drops open. “No way! Can you show up late?” I
ask hopefully.

He fights back a smile. “No, I can't.”

I slap his shoulder, glaring. “It's not funny! I've
been really horny since last night.”

“The wait will be worth it. All the anticipation
that's built up will make it even hotter when we hit the sheets,” he informs
me.

“It's like the universe is against me having sex,” I
grumble as I ease off his lap.

He stands up and leans forward to brush his lips
against mine before smiling at me with amusement. “Later, Sparky.”

“Say hi to Micaela for me.”

“I will. See you on campus tomorrow,” he tells me
before he leaves and the door shuts behind him.

I sigh loudly in the quietness of my apartment. Now
what am I going to do with the rest of the evening? I force myself to work on
some homework, and then I find myself walking over to Ace and Jeremy's. Their
door is unlocked, so I walk right in as I'm accustomed to doing.

Ace looks up from where he's sitting on the couch, a
binder and papers set out before him. He smiles when he sees that it's me.
“Hey. I figured you'd be in your room with Caleb, fucking like bunnies,” he
teases.

My nose wrinkles as I walk over and fling myself on
the other couch. “He's at the center.”

He shoves his papers into the binder and then tosses
it on the coffee table as he gives me his full attention. “So, this thing with
Caleb serious?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I think he's good for you.”

“He is.” I'd dropped by to take Caleb's advice and to
tell the guys about my disorder, that I'm getting help for it. But the words
don't come that easily, and I find myself hesitating.

“What's wrong?” Ace asks as he studies me.

“Jeremy home?”

“No, he's out.”

I nod. “I can talk to him another time, I guess.” I
bite my lip and look at him a bit uncertainly. “Has Caleb mentioned to you what
he thought was going on with me?”

Ace's gray eyes search mine. “After you had that
really bad nightmare here, he said something to the effect that you might be
dealing with post-traumatic stuff from the accident. He made it clear he was
just guessing at that point. He seems to understand you, so I figured if he was
on to something, he'd bring it to your attention.”

“Well, he did,” I confess.

 “Is it what he thought?”

“Yeah. PTSD and depression,” I say softly.

“Are you going to see anyone for it?”

“I already am. Caleb went with me today to see a
doctor. The doc confirmed it, and on Friday I have an appointment with a
therapist.”

His expression softens. “I'm glad you're getting help,
Z. I've been worried.”

“I want to get better. I really do,” I say sincerely.
“I had no idea that what I was going through and all these...feelings and
stuff, are all attributed to this disorder. I never thought to look for answers
until Caleb came along.”

“How do you feel now that you know all this?”

“Relieved to have answers. I'm not happy with some of
the treatments the doctor wants to try, but I'm giving it a shot.” I grimace.
“I can't drink alcohol anymore, because I'm on an anti-depressant.”

“Can't say I'm disappointed about that. After last
weekend, it'd be nice to see you avoid alcohol permanently for a while.”

“Yeah. I know.” I clear my throat, anxious to change
the topic now that I've said what I've had to say about the disorder. “Jeremy
hasn't seemed like himself lately. At least not when I'm around. Is there
something going on?”

Ace goes still and then his eyes hold mine. “You
really want to know?”

“Well, yeah. That's why I'm asking.”

“He's taking this thing between you and Caleb kind of
hard,” he tells me bluntly.

“Why?”

Ace shakes his head. “You really were oblivious,
weren't you?”

“Oblivious to what?”

“Jeremy wasn't able to be as casual as you were with the
whole 'friends with benefits' thing between you two. He has feelings for you,
Z.”

I stare at him as my heart sinks. “How bad is it?”

“He's in love with you.”

My head drops into my hands, and I groan. No, no, no.
That wasn't supposed to happen. I knew that night in the bar—the night I'd gone
home with Caleb—that Jeremy was starting to care too much. I hadn't considered
that his feelings might already run that deep. I look up at Ace, my eyes
searching his. “Are you sure? Or are you just guessing?”

“I'm sure. He admitted it.”

“Shit.”

“Don't panic,” he warns. “Jeremy already knows you
don't feel the same way, and he is happy for you and Caleb. It's just hard on
him right now. Do us all a favor and don't treat him any differently now that
you know. It'll just make things awkward, and we're all tight, I'd like to keep
it that way. Just let him deal with it on his own.”

I reach up and rub my hands over my face. “Do you
think Caleb knows?”

“He might have some sort of an idea, but Caleb's a
good guy. He won't call him out on it or anything.”

“So you think I should just act normal, like I'm not
even aware of any of this?” I ask uncertainly.

“Exactly. He's a guy, he wouldn't want you to know. Do
us all a favor and act like you don't. And if he's a little distant in the
coming months, don't bring it up. Just leave him be.”

“Okay.” I look at Ace warily. “You know I didn't mean
for it to happen, right?”

“Hey, I know that. I'm not placing any blame or
anything. It happened, now let him move on.”

The closer we get to the cemetery, the more my heart
seems to constrict in my chest. It's hard to breathe through lungs that feel
like they're being squeezed by fists. The beautiful late afternoon Californian
sky doesn't affect me at all as I stare out the car window. I am chilled to the
bone. I can feel Caleb glancing at me every so often as he drives, but he
doesn't press. He stays silent, leaving me to my brooding thoughts. I'm so
unbelievably nervous to see Micah's grave. I'm not even sure I can do this, but
I'm going to try.

When we pull into the cemetery, my entire body
stiffens up in the passenger seat.

Caleb puts the car in park and looks at me. “No one's
forcing you to do this, Zoey. We can go back home and try again another day,”
he offers gently.

I shake my head slightly, not saying anything. I'm so
close. To just give up and go back home would make me feel like I'm failing
Micah somehow. Without a word, I open the car door and climb out. It's hot out,
but goose bumps rise on my
bare
arms and legs.

I can do this
,
I tell myself.

I straighten my shoulders and glance at Caleb, who is
standing by the car, his blue eyes watching me intently. I manage to give him a
wan smile, because it's all I can muster at the moment. He silently holds out his
hand. I walk over and reach for it, his warm palm sliding against mine with
reassurance. We walk without a word to the large gate, then we pass through it
and enter the cemetery. I draw in a sharp breath and try to control the nerves
that seem to be rattling the insides of my hollow stomach.

Caleb squeezes my hand.

I try to draw on his strength and assure myself that I
am not alone. Things are different now. I have someone to lean on if I need
him. Everything has changed, and I need to face this fear I have. We walk hand
in hand down the paved path as Caleb allows me to lead him in the direction of
Micah's grave.

Everything feels so right, so when I catch sight of
his gravestone and see all the flowers, I'm blindsided by the guilt that slams
into my gut like a fist.

I gasp and stop dead in my tracks, my hand jerking out
of Caleb's as I fist my hands together against my stomach where it cramps
painfully. I knew it'd be hard, but the reality of coming face to face with his
gravestone is a whole other story. It's so easy to say you want to do
something, but when you have to face that something, sometimes it's so much
harder than you ever thought it could be.

“Zoey?” Caleb asks softly.

My eyes shut as I struggle to draw air into my lungs.
It hurts so much to see the bouquets of flowers that others have brought by in
memory of him. They honor him while I've left him to rot in the ground.

Shame rolls over me in waves, and I feel the sting of
tears behind my eyelids. One escapes between my lashes, and I sense Caleb move
a moment before his warm thumb tenderly captures the wayward tear.

“I can't,” I say thickly, my head bowing with defeat.
I can't do it. Somewhere inside me, I still feel like I don't deserve to come here.
I don't deserve forgiveness for treating this life he'd given me so carelessly
these past few years.

Caleb's arms wrap around me and he kisses the top of
my head. “It's okay. It doesn't have to be now, we can come back another day.
When you're ready.”

I nod against his shoulder.

He gently maneuvers me around, and his arm stays
protectively around me as we begin to walk back the way we'd came.

I wipe at another tear with my free hand. “I
thought...” My voice trails off as I sigh with resignation and disappointment.

“Don't feel bad,” he tells me as he holds my gaze
deliberately. “You're taking on a lot this week, and coming here was just too
much at once. Don't punish yourself for it, Zoey. Let's give the meds some time
to take effect. They'll help with the anxiety, and once things seem to calm
down, we'll revisit the topic of coming back out here.”

I nod, and we're both silent as we reach the car and
climb in. There is no conversation on the way back to Long Beach. I'm lost in
my misery and Caleb concentrates on driving. Once in a while he reaches for my
hand, holding it briefly before he releases it to clasp the steering wheel.

When we reach the complex, Caleb walks me to my door.
“Can I come in?” he asks as I pull out my key. I hesitate.

“Don't shut me out,” he warns.

I look up at him, and I see the slight tightness
around his eyes. I guess my silence in the car had bothered him more than I
thought. “I'm trying not to,” I say truthfully. Because I really am trying to
let him in. Out of everyone in my life, it's Caleb that I feel comfortable
talking to.

“Let me come in and comfort you then.”

I nod with acceptance and unlock the door. Caleb shuts
the door behind us, and I rub my face warily. I feel emotionally drained.

Caleb studies me. “Why don't you take a nice warm
shower.
We'll talk later if you feel like talking about it,”
he suggests.

“A shower sounds good,” I agree.

“Go. I'll still be here when you get out.”

I give him a slight smile and go straight to my
bathroom. I strip down and climb in, allowing the warm spray of the water to
wash over my body. It eases my tense muscles, and as I begin to relax, my
earlier frustration and shame from the cemetery fades. Surprisingly enough,
it's not long before I feel my mood beginning to perk up. Especially when I
realize Caleb is mine until tomorrow morning's classes at the university. I
have Caleb for the
entire
night.

By the time I climb out of the shower, the horny
little devil on my left shoulder is whispering naughty things in my ear. I grin
widely. I know exactly what I want to do this evening, and it's definitely not
talking. I quickly dry off and grab my favorite bottle of lotion. Then I comb
out my wet hair, dry it until I’m no longer dripping on the floor, and then
open the door to let the steam escape from the bathroom. I had planned on going
to my bedroom first to put on something a little racy, but I've changed my
mind. I'm a confident woman, and he's seen it all before.

I turn and walk down the hall towards the living room.
Caleb is sitting on the couch, and he's text messaging someone on his phone. I
walk right up to him, pluck the phone out of his hand and toss it over my
shoulder before straddling his lap.

His hands instinctively clasp my waist, and his blue
eyes widen as they roam over my nude body. I watch as he goes still, his eyes
slowly traveling over my naked chest before sliding down my stomach to the
flesh between my legs. “Fuck me,” he whispers as his eyes darken while he
studies my mostly bare femininity.

I smirk. “I plan to. You're not the only one with a
dirty list, Cowboy.”

He groans as his hands trail up my sides to cup my
breasts. Then his eyelids grow heavy as he runs the pad of his thumbs over my
pebble hard nipples.

“You made me wait two days. You owe me. Big time,” I
say breathlessly as I arch into hands.

His eyes flicker to mine, and his lip quirks in the
corner. “Is that so? Just how many do I owe you?”

He's referring to orgasms, and I'm a greedy bitch.
“Six,” I say promptly, because we have all night.

“Done,” he says as he grasps my waist, hauling me up
and over his shoulder as he rises to his feet. He strides confidently to my
bedroom, spanking my bare ass playfully on the way.