Only Between Us (27 page)

I smile, even though it pulls at the cut on my cheek. “It’s all right. We got out of it okay.” I’m pretty much broke, but hey, at least I don’t have to cancel my credit card or get a new Social Security card. “I’m just happy they didn’t hurt you.”

“I won’t do anything like that again. I promise. It was dumb.” Her eyes are glistening with tears.

“Katie—Catherine—it’s fine—”

“You can call me Katie, Cabe. I don’t mind it when you do. But you and Amy are the only ones.”

I’d hug her if I wasn’t practically naked. “Thanks. I’m … uh … headed back to bed. Do you need anything?”

She shakes her head, glancing down the hall. “Is Romy here?”

“Um, yeah. She’s here.” And naked. In my bed.

“Oh, good. I wanted to tell her about this book I read this afternoon.” She steps toward my room, but I move to block her way.

“Romy’s sleeping, Katie. I’m sure she’d love to talk to you tomorrow.”

Katie looks back and forth from my room to my face. “She’s sleeping … with you … in there?”

“She had a long night, too, and she spent all day taking care of me.”

Katie’s cheeks darken a shade, but she smiles. “Oh, right. Of course.” Her hands fidget over the strap of her bag. “I’m going to take my pills and go to bed.”

“We’ll talk more tomorrow?”

She nods. “Sure. Tomorrow.” She walks straight to her room and disappears inside, closing the door behind her a little harder than necessary.

I stand there for a moment. Something just happened, and I’m not sure I understand it. But it’s going to have to wait until tomorrow. I limp back down the hall and go into my room, shutting the door. I take another ibuprofen, put sweats on in case Katie needs something quickly, and lower myself to the bed. Romy smiles sleepily and throws her arm around my waist. “Hey,” she murmurs. “You smell amazing.”

She grazes her nose over my chest, and I shiver. “Katie’s back.”

She stiffens. “But Amy said … okay. Do you want me to leave?”

I wind my arms around her. “No. We’ve talked about this already.”

“Right. Restraining order,” she murmurs. “I’ll take care of that tomorrow.”

“Good,” I say, holding her close. I don’t ever want to see her look as terrified as she did last night. But also, I don’t want her to go, and I’ll take any excuse to keep her here with me. My hands slide over her warm skin. With a pang of unhappiness, I realize Romy should probably get dressed, too. “Um. Are you cold?”

She starts to shake her head, then puts her hand over my heart and stares into my eyes. She does this sometimes, and I never know what to make of it. “I guess I am sort of chilly,” she finally says. With a sigh, she slips from the bed and puts on a t-shirt of mine before returning to me.

As I welcome her into my arms, Romy presses her lips to my skin and lays her head on my chest. It awakens that possessive, primal creature inside of me again, but with Katie here, there’s no way I’m going to do anything about it. So I wrestle it into submission and lie there quietly, listening to Romy breathe, until I fall asleep again.

Chapter Twenty-five: Romy

I spend all day Monday with Eric and Jude—at the family division of the county court. With Eric’s help and Jude’s support, I gathered my evidence. Time-stamped pictures of my face from January, the night Alex hit me. All the text messages he’s sent over the past month. My report of what happened at the Dexter mansion on Saturday night, leaving any mention of Caleb out. The judge looks disturbed and actually asks if I want to press charges, but I tell him that all I want is for Alex to stay far away from me. I offer up every bit of information I know about him, his phone number, the fact that he attends the law school, the make and model of his car. The police will serve the order and will have to track him down.

I take my two friends out to dinner afterward as a thank you. After we order our meals and settle in, Eric gives me an odd look. “You lied to the judge,” he says in a low voice. “And I need to know why.”

Jude’s eyes get wide, and so do mine. “What are you talking about?” he asks.

“Romy, I have a very hard time believing that Alex just left you alone on Saturday. What really happened?”

I glance at Jude. “Caleb was there. He stopped Alex. I-I think Alex might have really hurt me if Caleb hadn’t taken him on.”

Eric looks pleased, but Jude seems concerned. “Did Caleb lose his temper?”

I laugh. “Yeah. And you want to know what really pissed him off?”

“What?”

“When Alex said he didn’t care what I wanted.” I will never forget it. Even thinking of it now makes me want to laugh and cry and everything in between. “‘That’s the fucking problem right there in a nutshell!’ he shouted.” I snort. “It was epic, actually.” And I love him for it. Even more, I love him because it’s true, because he really believes it.

“Huh,” says Eric. “Maybe Jude needs to give this guy a chance.”

Jude doesn’t say anything, but I think he might agree. It’s a start.

On our way out to the car, my phone buzzes with a text. My mother.
Just checking in. Need a final headcount for the Christmas party.

I stare at it for a moment, then put the phone back in my bag. Jude and Eric drop me off at Caleb’s. My heart races as I approach his door. But when he opens it as I raise my hand to knock, all that melts away. “How did it go?” he asks, limping backward to let me in.

“I got it.” I hold up the
ex parte
order. “They’re going to try to serve him tonight.”

Caleb frowns. “Do you want to stay?”

And there it is. Ever since yesterday, this has been bothering me. Caleb is so protective, and I’m grateful for that. But I want him to ask me to stay not because he’s worried about me, but because he
wants
me. After Catherine came back last night, Caleb got his clothes on, and from his awkwardness, I could tell he wanted me to do the same. We might have been in his room with the door closed, but he started acting like she was in the room with us. I can’t fault him for that … but it made me sad.

I look toward Catherine’s door. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea for me to stay.” Yesterday, I was in heaven. Yesterday, Caleb turned my world upside-down. Yesterday only confirmed for me that I’m in love with him, even though it feels too soon to say. Yesterday also confirmed how tricky this is. Catherine is Caleb’s first priority, especially since she’s finally giving him a chance after so many years of blaming him. Who am I to screw that up for him? “I mean, I stayed last night, and …”

Caleb is watching me with this inscrutable look on his face. “And …”

“And I’m sure you’re sick of me.”

He laughs. “Did you really just say that?” He’s drawing me against his chest when Catherine comes out of her room, and his arms fall away as soon as he sees her. “Did you decide what you want for dinner?” he asks.

“Are you staying?” she asks me. Caleb squeezes my hand, and I nod. She smiles. “Your choices are mac’n’cheese or … peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

Caleb rolls his eyes. “Okay. I think I need to make a run to the grocery store.”

“I can go,” I volunteer. Caleb’s pride won’t let him admit it, but he’s totally broke, and I jump at the chance to ease his stress a little. “I’m quicker on my feet at the moment, and my guess is you’ve been putting way too much strain on that ankle today.” His answering expression tells me I’m right, and I grin as relief washes over me—he’s going to let me do this for him.

“I’ll go with you!” announces Catherine. “We can chat.”

Caleb’s eyes go soft and wistful as he looks at his sister, and it tugs at my heart. “That would be nice,” I say cheerfully.

He turns to me. “Are you sure?”

I touch his face, his scruffy cheeks pricking my fingertips. “Absolutely. We’ll be back soon.”

Catherine grabs her bag and we head out, walking to my apartment complex and retrieving my car. “Cabe likes you a lot,” she says to me as we set out for the grocery store. “I mean, he’s been with a ton of different girls, but I think you’re special to him.”

My stomach clenches a little at the thought of him being with
a ton of different girls
. “Um. I’m glad. He’s special to me, too.”

“Good. It seems like you can understand him. Like you can understand our family.”

I shift in my seat. “I’d like to, Catherine.”

“Cabe knows how important family is,” she murmurs as she looks out the window. “He knows.”

I change the subject to books, and we spend the rest of the shopping trip talking about our favorite romance novels. Catherine is in a bubbly mood, pointing out all of Caleb’s favorite foods with great pride, nixing most things I suggest. It’s fine. She knows him better than I do, and I want him to have things he likes. It makes me feel good as I see them slide by on the conveyor belt at checkout. There are few things as magnificent as seeing Caleb’s expression when it hits him that I’m prioritizing his needs. I can actually see it on his face, this raw sort of hope mixed with hunger. I want to put that look on his face as often as possible. I want him to know that it’s real.

We make dinner together and watch a DVD afterward. It’s Step Up, which is apparently Catherine’s favorite movie ever. I am not a fan of Channing Tatum, so I spend the time hyperaware of Caleb’s body and wishing we could be alone, then mentally smacking myself for being so self-absorbed. Caleb is smiling. He’s watching a movie with his sister, and he’s happy. When it’s over, he watches her take her meds and hugs her before she goes into her room for the night, then joins me on the couch.

He doesn’t invite me back to his room. And of course, that makes sense, since she’s right there. He probably remembers all the noise I made yesterday as he made me lose control over and over again.

“Are you all right?” he asks quietly, putting his arm around my back.

“I’m good.” I bite my lip. I have to talk to him about this tonight, because my mom needs a headcount, but is it too soon? “I was actually thinking about Christmas.”

He chuckles. “Ah. My least favorite holiday.”

I freeze. “Oh.”

“It’s never been a good time of year. You can understand that, right?”

“Yeah,” I choke out. “Totally.”

His fingers nudge my chin up. “Tell me what Christmas is like for you.” His brows lower for a moment. “We’ve spent hours on the phone, Romy, and you don’t talk much about your parents.” He’s right. Part of that is because I didn’t want to remind him of his own family issues, and part of it is that there’s not much to tell. I had a nanny growing up, and my parents traveled a lot—usually without me.

“Christmas is a little lonely now that my dad’s parents are dead. We used to spend Christmases with them, and they were magical. But for the last ten years or so, it hasn’t been like that. My parents have always been a little hands off.” I blow out a jittery breath. “I mean, they’re my parents, and they love me.” I’m babbling. Caleb doesn’t look like he minds, but I need to get to the point. “I have to go back to Grosse Pointe for Christmas. They have a big party—it’s on the twenty-third this year—and I’ll probably drive down that day.”

 “I can’t tell whether you’re looking forward to it or dreading it.”

 “Well, that depends.” My heart is thumping so violently that I’m surprised he can’t feel it. “They always ask me if I’d like to bring a guest to the party. My mom asked me to give her a final answer on that this afternoon.”

His whole body goes still. “What did you tell her?”

“I haven’t responded yet.” I wish I could read his expression. This is terrifying. “I mean, whoever comes has to tolerate my dad’s obsession with golf and brandy, and my mom’s inquisition, because she’s super nosy. The party’s pretty cool because they hire professional musicians and there’s dancing, but …” I glance up at him, hoping for a sign, getting nothing. Well, he said I was brave, so here goes: “I was wondering if you had any interest in coming?”

“You want me to meet your parents?” He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “They won’t like me, Romy. You know that, right?”

Yes, actually, I know that. But if things go like I’m hoping they will, they’ll have to get used to him. “I don’t really care. They’d adjust. I-I mean, you don’t have to, Caleb. It was just a thought. I got this stupid text—”

But I don’t finish the thought, because he’s kissing me fiercely, our tongues tangling, his rough skin scraping mine raw. Like so many times before with Caleb, I get the sense he’s trying to tell me something, but doesn’t quite have the right words. He strokes my hair, my face, my back, and then pulls me against his chest. “You really want me to go with you?” he whispers. His heart is beating like a jackhammer against me. “Are you sure?”

I slide my arm around his waist, wondering if he really understands how he’s changed things for me. I know I’ve only known him for two months, but this feels different than any crush or any relationship I’ve ever had. It runs deeper. It makes me feel terrified and powerfully strong at the same time. My parents are going to be slack-jawed and gaping when I walk in with him and tell them what he does for a living, but that will be half the fun. As will the chance to sneak away from the party and hide ourselves away in my room with a couple of glasses of champagne in our systems. “Completely.”

He kisses my temple, and I can feel his smile against my skin. “Then I’m there.”

My fingernails scrape against Caleb’s back as he thrusts into me. He hits me so deep that I let out a cry and whimper as he pulls back again, torturously slow and controlled. In the dim light of my room, I see the strained smile on his face. “You like that,” he says in a low voice, forcefully sliding into me again.

“God, you have no idea,” I moan. “You’re killing me. Don’t stop.”

He chuckles as he withdraws, almost completely. “Don’t think I could, even if I wanted to.” And then he flexes his hips, smothering my scream with his mouth over mine. My orgasm rises up inside me, breaking me apart, and he holds my face in his hands and presses his forehead to mine. He keeps those haunting gray eyes on me and doesn’t stop moving as I pulse around him, clutching at his shoulders while he delivers stroke after stroke. “You’re so beautiful when you come,” he says between breaths, and then pushes up on his hands. I wrap my legs around his hips and put my hands on his chest, feeling his heart thunder as he grinds against me and groans as his own climax takes him over.