Chapter 14
VALENTINA
I was too afraid of totaling the Bronco, so I didn’t drive. Despite the fact that I was a good driver, crashing Iris’ favorite car was probably worse than breaking the NFR. And she had enough reason to be mad at me already.
She doesn’t let anyone drive it, I explained to Caden on the way to the store. Apart from firewood, we had to get marshmallows, crackers, chocolate, hotdogs, buns, and whatever Anni needed to make her infamous campfire bread—literally translating to stick-bread from German.
I hadn’t spoken a word to him since we’d gotten back from our run.
Out of fear I might say something that would lead us right back to where we’d ended up once today already.
But intentionally not speaking to someone was harder than I’d thought, and I’d given up the second we’d gotten in the car.
Clearly, I was making up for lost time by sharing every thought that came to mind. For some reason.
I don’t know why she’s just letting us drive it, like she hasn’t fought tooth and nail to keep those keys out of Anni’s and Alfie’s hands—well, no, Alfie’s I understand. He’s an abysmal driver. I trailed off, shaking my head. It doesn’t make sense—
Caden’s eyes flicked to me, then back to the road. Another five minutes until he’d pull up to the store. Has anyone ever told you how confusing you are, Rhodes?
My eyes narrowed at him, and he continued. You don’t speak to me the entire time we’re home, then you can’t seem to shut up the second we’re on grocery-duty. Did you accidentally flick a switch when we got in the car?
Would you look at that, I scoffed, surprised I wasn’t taking his words more personally.
Anyone else telling me I talked too much would probably shut me up for the rest of my natural life.
I’m not kidding. But with Caden, it seemed easy to brush past the insult, simply by throwing one back at him.
Almost as weird as you ignoring me for an entire week, then standing by my bed at six-thirty in the morning, demanding attention.
Caden snickered. Our bed, he reminded, then changed back to my earlier topic of rambling. And your friend gave us her beloved car because she loves you, and she trusts me, apparently. That’s the only reason. Is that satisfying enough?
No. I hated that Iris trusted him. That he’d infiltrated my friend group within a week.
A day, and they’d all loved him. Six later, and I’d found myself in a position of breaking their trust. He’d put me in a position of breaking that trust. Iris loved me—needed me—and I was still thinking about his lips on mine eight hours later.
Getting it out of our system my ass. It still felt like he was all over me.
It seemed logical to take my anger out on him, even if, realistically, it was myself I was mad at. Furious, really. But yelling at Caden let me blow off some steam, while driving him further away. A win-win.
No, I said sternly. A little too loud. It’s not your bed. It’s my bed that you nestled into without permission. Those are my friends that trust you now, my group that you infiltrated. And none of it is satisfying. It’s actually quite annoying.
Unfortunately, while my voice was getting louder, my tone harsher, I’d forgotten that our arguing had served as some kind of weird foreplay in the past. When he slammed on the brakes and pulled over to the side of the road, it seemed this one was leading in the same direction.
That’s your problem? he asked, turning off the engine and finally looking at me. Wait, no. Unfortunately looking at me. Your problem is that your friends like me?
He wouldn’t understand, and maybe that’s why I said, Yes!
Because his apparent likability was why I’d been carrying a boulder of guilt around since he’d gotten here—getting bigger and heavier every time I looked at him and realized I wanted him a little more than the last time our gazes had crossed. Like they did now.
There was a crease between his brows, and I wasn’t quite sure if it was anger or confusion that put it there.
Maybe the combination of both. He leaned closer, eyes narrowed like he was trying to read me.
He probably failed. You’re proving my point, he said.
You’re the most confusing woman I’ve ever met.
Congrats. It can only get better from here on out, then.
My eyes flicked across his face, and they didn’t linger on his lips.
For too long, at least. I tried to conjure up an image of Iris, of our first bonfire-night, and how hurt she’d been by Mr. Doesn’t Want A Relationship a few days ago—tried my very hardest to remember all the reasons that made Caden Callahan an awful choice for company.
He shook his head. That’s the thing, he growled, as if he liked admitting it almost as little as he enjoyed feeling like this, in the first place. I don’t think it can get better. I don’t know what you did to me, Valentina. But you’re definitely not out of my system.
And he was definitely not out of mine.
I almost caved. Almost banned Iris from my mind again, locked my already guilty conscience into a backroom and climbed over the console, onto his lap. He looked at me— lids heavy, pupils wide, gaze continuously flickering to my lips—like he wanted me to. My hand already hovered by my seatbelt.
A single car rushed past us, and it was kind of like the snap of a finger drawing a patient out of hypnosis.
I regained some of my ability to think rationally.
Grew aware of the fact that our faces almost met in the middle of the car, with how close we’d inched toward each other. Remembered that I could actually speak.
That’s not my fault, I whispered. He was so close, he probably felt the words on his skin.
Caden huffed, and I could feel that, too. You’re saying I’m out of yours, then? he asked inconspicuously—like his hand hadn’t cupped my cheek for a moment, and like he wasn’t tracing a finger along my jawline now.
I tried not to shudder under his touch and failed. You’re saying that kiss did it for you? His hand dipped lower, continued trailing down my neck, touch feather-light. You don’t need anything else I can give you? You don’t crave it the way I crave you?
I wanted to shake my head, but all I managed was to turn it to one side, granting him more access, silently begging for his touch. He knew what it meant—my silence, the goosebumps on my skin, my parted lips.
Talk to me, he whispered in a low voice, and my eyes closed. Like I’d fallen right back under his spell.
No— I wanted to stay strong in my stance. No, I don’t need you. No, I don’t want you. But suddenly, it was his lips on my skin, and the way he placed gentle kisses down my neck, against my collarbone, felt familiar. Good and familiar. Too good, and way too familiar.
There was a brief moment of surrender. Right as his kisses moved back to my face, and he’d planted one in the corner of my lips, I thought, I should do this. For myself. I made the bucket list for myself. Why couldn’t I have this, too?
I’d reasoned enough to reciprocate his gentle kiss, to turn my head, move my lips against his and sigh into his mouth.
Alright, then, Caden rasped, and pulled away.
The engine roared back to life below us, while I was still wrapping my head around his absence from my skin. I was still figuring out why I missed it when he said, knowing smirk on his face, If that’s so.
And we were back to silence.