8. Caius
CAIUS
Iwake up to sunlight slanting through unfamiliar curtains and the smell of lavender laundry detergent. For a second, I forget where I am. Then I feel the warm weight against my side, see the dark hair spilled across my chest, and remember everything.
Hallie.
My chest does something stupid and painful, like it's trying to crack itself open.
She's still asleep, one hand curled against my ribs, her breath soft and even. I've imagined this moment more times than I can count, but the reality of it is better. She's real and warm and mine.
At least, she was mine last night.
I glance around her bedroom, cataloging details. The walls are painted a soft blue. There's a corkboard covered in photos, ticket stubs, pressed flowers. A stack of books on her nightstand catches my eye, and I bite back a grin when I read the spines.
The Duke's Dark Desires.
Ravished by the Rake.
Her Forbidden Cowboy.
Every single one has a shirtless man and a swooning woman on the cover. I pick up the top one, careful not to wake her, and flip it open. Someone, presumably Hallie, has dog-eared about twenty pages and scribbled notes in the margins.
"Yes! This!"
"Why can't real men talk like this?"
"Holy. Hell."
I'm about to read what made her write that last one, really curious what scene got her that worked up, when I hear it.
A key turning in the front door downstairs.
The sound is distinct, unmistakable. Metal scraping against metal, then the click of the lock disengaging.
Ice floods my veins, cold and sharp. My whole body goes rigid. I shoot upright in bed, the book tumbling from my hands onto the comforter, and Hallie stirs beside me, her hand sliding off my ribs. She blinks groggily up at me, her hair a mess, her eyes still soft with sleep.
"Caius?" Her voice is rough, confused. "What's wrong?"
"Someone's here," I hiss, already scrambling out of bed. The sheets tangle around my legs and I kick them off, planting my feet on the hardwood floor. "Someone with a key."
Her eyes go wide, sleep vanishing in an instant. All the color drains from her face.
"Oh god." She sits bolt upright, clutching the sheet to her chest. "Ryan?"
We both freeze, listening to the sound of the door opening downstairs, followed by footsteps.
"Hallie? You home?" The voice that calls up the stairs isn't Ryan's deep baritone. It's female, bright, sing-song, and cheerful in that particular way that makes me think of someone who's had too much coffee and not enough sleep.
Hallie's whole body sags with relief beside me, her shoulders dropping as she releases a shaky breath that sounds almost like a laugh. One hand pressed against her sternum, she exhales hard. "It's Madison. My sister."
I gaze at her, my heart still racing like I've just run a mile. "Your sister has a key?"
"Everyone has a key. Small town, remember?" She's already grabbing for clothes, tossing me my jeans from where they landed near the door. "She can't see you. She'll tell Mom. Mom will tell everyone. It'll be a whole thing."
"So what the hell do I do?" I hiss, already knowing the answer is going to be something I don't like.
She whirls around and points frantically at the closet door behind me, her eyes wide and urgent. "Get in there."
I peer at her, then at the closet, then back at her face. "Are you actually serious right now? You want me to hide in your closet like some teenager who got caught sneaking in after curfew?"
"Hallie?" Madison's voice rings out again, much closer this time, her footsteps already making their way up the creaking stairs. Each step sends a fresh jolt of panic through the room.
"Get. In." Hallie shoves me toward the closet with surprising strength for someone who barely comes up to my shoulder.
I stumble into the small space, pulling the door mostly closed behind me just as Madison knocks and opens the bedroom door.
"There you are! I texted you like five times."
Through the crack in the door, I watch Hallie smooth her hair and paste on a smile. She's still wearing my T-shirt, I realize. The white one with the auto shop logo. It hits her mid-thigh, and the sight of her in my clothes undoes me.
"Sorry, I was sleeping. What's up?"
"I have the wedding favors in my car. Two hundred tiny burlap bags of lavender. They smell amazing but they're heavy, so I figured I'd drop them off now and you can store them here until Saturday."
"Right. The favors. Great timing." Hallie's laugh sounds forced even to my ears, strained at the edges.
Through the crack, I see Madison tilt her head, studying her sister with the kind of scrutiny only siblings possess. "Are you okay? You look really flushed. And why are you standing like that?"
"Fine! Totally fine. Just, uh, I was having a weird dream when you knocked.
Still a little disoriented, you know how it is.
" Hallie shifts her weight, and I notice she's strategically positioned herself to block Madison's view of the rumpled bed—the sheets still twisted from where we'd tangled ourselves together not ten minutes ago.
Madison narrows her eyes, and I hold my breath. Then she shrugs. "Well, get dressed and help me carry them in. Unless you want to explain to Mom why you bailed on favor duty."
"I'll be down in two minutes."
"Okay. Oh, and Kyle texted me this morning asking if you're bringing anyone to the rehearsal dinner. I told him to mind his own business, but seriously, are you still doing the fake boyfriend thing with Caius?"
My heart stops completely, freezing solid like someone dumped ice water straight into my veins.
Hallie's voice, when it comes through the door, is carefully neutral, too carefully neutral, the kind of forced casual tone people use when they're trying way too hard not to sound affected. "Why? Why would he be threatened?"
"Because Kyle seems weirdly threatened by him. Which is hilarious considering Kyle dumped you to go 'find himself' in Tuscany." Madison makes air quotes. "Anyway, I'm Team Caius all the way. Even if it's fake, watching Kyle squirm is worth it."
I need to expand this 9-word dialogue exchange to fit naturally between the surrounding text. Here's the expanded version:
"I'll... we'll figure it out," Hallie says finally, her voice muffled through the door, still talking to Madison like everything is completely normal, like I'm not hiding in her closet half-naked while her sister stands three feet away.
Like we didn't just cross every line we've been dancing around for over a decade.
"Good. See you downstairs," Madison replies, and I can hear the smile in her voice, completely oblivious to the fact that her casual question just detonated a bomb in the midstof whatever the hell is happening between me and Hallie.
Madison leaves, her footsteps retreating down the hall. I wait until I hear her go down the stairs before pushing the closet door open.
Hallie is standing in the center of the room, arms wrapped around herself, looking small.
I hate seeing her like this, small and closed off, like she's trying to physically shrink away from what just happened between us. Like she's already building walls.
"Hal—"
"You should probably go," she cuts me off, her voice quiet but firm, still not meeting my eyes. "Before Madison comes back up here. Before someone notices you're missing from downstairs."
"We need to talk about this." I take a step toward her, but she takes one back, maintaining the distance like it's a safety measure. "We can't just pretend?—"
"About what?" She won't look at me. "It was just... we got caught up in the moment. The fake dating, the adrenaline from the party. It doesn't have to mean anything."
The words hit like a punch to the gut. "Doesn't have to mean anything? Are you kidding me right now?"
"Caius." Finally, she looks at me, and her eyes are guarded. Scared. "You said what you said last night, and that's... that's really sweet. But we both know this isn't real."
"Sweet?" I step closer. "I told you I've been in love with you for thirteen years and you think that's sweet?"
"You don't love me. You love the idea of me. The girl next door, your best friend's little sister. I'm like... a bucket list thing. The forbidden fruit."
"A bucket list thing." I repeat the words slowly, trying to process. "You think last night was me checking off some fantasy?"
"Wasn't it?" Her voice is small, but there's a challenge in it. "Be honest. How many times did you think about me when we were growing up? How many times did you imagine what it would be like?"
"Every damn day," I say, and she flinches.
"I thought about you every single day, Hallie.
When you went to prom with that jackass Tyler Chen who didn't even open your car door.
When you got accepted to college and cried happy tears in my shop.
When Kyle proposed to you with that ugly ring and you said yes even though I could see in your eyes you weren't sure. "
"Caius—"
"I thought about you when you walked down the aisle as a bridesmaid at your cousin's wedding in that green dress.
I thought about you when you moved back home and took the librarian job.
I thought about you every time you brought your car in with some made-up problem because I made up those problems just to see you. "
She's staring at me now, eyes wide. "The blinker fluid."
"Isn't a real thing. Yeah." I run a hand through my hair, frustrated.
"I know I'm not good enough for you. I know I'm the grease monkey who barely graduated high school while you got a master's degree.
I know your family took me in when I had nothing, and dating you probably feels like I'm spitting on that generosity. "
"That's not?—"
"But don't tell me this doesn't mean anything. Don't tell me last night was just scratching an itch or playing pretend, because I was there, Hallie. I know what I felt. And I'm pretty sure I know what you felt too."
She wraps her arms tighter around herself. "What I felt was probably just good sex. You're... you're good at that."