Chapter 25
CADEN
My first thought was Valentina, even before I’d opened my eyes.
In a highlight reel that woke my dick before my brain had the chance, last night’s events flooded back to me. The way she arched below me, moaned my name, and came as quickly as I did.
What a marvel that woman was. Just fucking spectacular.
I squinted against the sun, groaned as I stretched, and was glad to discover that we must’ve put our clothes back on before we passed out last night. I was wearing my briefs, and the shirt I’d left the room in. Valentina’s underwear wasn’t flying around the beach, either.
Neither was she, though.
The spot beside me on the blanket was empty, and probably cold.
I thought it was funny, the way my heart gave one little squeeze, like it was trying to find a connection to hers that didn’t exist. I thought it was even funnier that I got up, collected my blanket, and stepped up the small boardwalk back to the house, without a second thought. Without even fully realizing.
Like maybe there was a connection after all, and it was leading me back to her all on its own.
I got back to the house, and three pairs of eyes blinked at me from around the breakfast table.
Fuck. It must’ve been later than I’d realized.
Iris, Anni, and Alfie were, mostly, confused, judging by the looks on their faces.
I couldn’t blame them, as I was standing in the yard with nothing but a thick blanket bunched up under my arm, wearing boxers and a shirt.
I stopped short, like a kid caught doing something they weren’t supposed to.
Morning, I managed to say, then hurried through the sliding door back into the house.
They were probably too blindsided to comment, but I could hear their chatter loudly the second I disappeared out of sight. I just didn’t care enough to stay and listen, because thirty seconds later, I carefully opened the door to our room, unsure what to expect.
Half of me was convinced Valentina would simply forget last night happened, and put so much distance between us— physically and mentally and spiritually and any other way she could find—that I’d start to think it was just some deluded dream I’d play over and over in my head a hundred more times.
The other part of me hoped. For what, I didn’t know until our eyes connected.
Valentina sat at the small desk opposite our bunk beds. Her eyes moved away from the notebook in front of her, and her entire face lit up despite the fact she was probably trying hard to hide it. The corners of her mouth curled, her eyes widened, and she blushed.
And, apparently, it was exactly what I’d been hoping for, because I mirrored her every action. Down to the fucking color in her cheeks.
Hi, she breathed, and I finally closed the door behind me.
Dumped the sandy blanket in a corner and promised myself to remember to wash it later.
I’d probably forget. Half a second later, I stood behind Valentina’s chair, and tried to play my fast-beating heart off as casual.
I wouldn’t know what else to do with it. I’d never had to deal with that.
Hey, I said. How’d you sleep?
Good, she swallowed thickly, and I could feel my smile growing when she emphasized, Very good.
My eyes flicked from her face to the notebook she’d been leaning over a minute ago. Her summer bucket list beamed at me brightly, and it really only hit me how much time had passed when I realized most of the items on it were scratched out. Done.
sleep outside
go for a run
full-moon walk
skinny dipping
break a law
watch the sunrise
sex on the beach (Not the drink)
play pool
I huffed, feeling kind of sentimental about the whole thing. It wasn’t even my list, so I steered away from the feeling. What law did you break? I asked in amusement. Public indecency?
Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say.
Her lips twitched first, as if she wanted to laugh, then remembered it wasn’t funny.
For a moment, I honestly thought she was about to lecture me on why breaking laws wasn’t a laughing matter, before making me promise not to seduce her in public places again (I couldn’t do that, I’d be lying).
Instead, she shook her head and ignored my comment. Her eyes flickered across me restlessly until they focused on my neck. We need to do something about that, she said as she got up, like I hadn’t said anything at all. She lifted her hand, let her fingertips graze my neck.
I nearly shivered underneath her touch. My knees almost buckled and the wind almost got knocked out of my lungs. Really.
Huh? I unnecessarily tried to turn my head, but it only left us closer. Only left my lips a hair’s breadth from hers, if it weren’t for the height difference between us. She looked up at me, then trailed her fingers across the same spot on my neck again.
Apparently I’m sixteen years old again and leaving hickeys behind. Sorry. She scrunched her nose and her lips thinned into an apologetic smile.
Territorial much? I joked, and she punched my arm— somewhat playfully. But at this point you should know I have no problem with that. Mark your territory, if you want to. We both knew she wouldn’t purposely do that, not with her friends around. Not when I was still nothing but her little secret.
Stealing a glance at the mirror above the dresser, I quite liked the look of it, though. I think it might just be the fact that it was proof last night really happened. That it had happened, and she hadn’t disappeared again.
Another laugh bubbled out of her, and Valentina rolled her eyes. You’re my territory? she asked, doubtful. Aren’t you free as a bird? Tied to nothing and no one but yourself? You’re not anyone’s.
I could be yours.
The thought was so brief, I almost paid no mind to it. Then, it scared the fuck out of me.
I couldn’t really be anyone’s—I’d never been anyone’s.
Probably because after Alison, the thought of loving someone and then losing them had been enough of a deterrent, I kept every girl I’d ever talked to at arm’s length.
I’d built walls to keep my grief in, and posted guards at the gates to keep people out.
Only that Valentina had snuck past them easily. My guard hadn’t been up, and she’d slipped right through the cracks. Long enough ago that I was considering being hers. That the thought came naturally, and the implications only followed after long consideration.
Long consideration in which I hadn’t said anything, by the way. I blinked back into the present: Valentina standing in front of me, her hand still on my neck, fingers dancing across my skin absentmindedly. What was the last thing she’d said?
You’re not anyone’s.
Well. I shrugged, tried to play it cool.
Tried not to show how much she affected me, how I had to resist the urge to breathe in her smell, lean into her touch.
Yours, apparently. I mean, you marked me.
I gasped, scandalized, and with another eye roll, she brushed past me.
Her absence—although she was still right there, only disappearing into the bathroom and rummaging through something, by the sound of it—left a cold imprint behind.
Let’s fix that. Sorry, she repeated, voice still muffled out of the adjacent room.
Valentina came back with a clear tube of makeup.
Concealer, maybe? It’d been a while since Alison had forced me to sit model for one of her very elaborate, very colorful makeup looks.
Her live commentary still haunted some distant corner of my mind, but what Valentina was about to smother onto my neck, I couldn’t say.
It irked me, forgetting things about my sister. Concealer? I guessed.
Wow. She unscrewed the top, revealing a little wand covered in something at least close to my skin tone, and stopped right by my side again. Good, something inside of me screamed. You know your makeup. Is that why your skin looks air-brushed? Have you been deceiving all of us?
She always squinted when she laughed at her own jokes. I stored that piece of information with the rest of them. Right between the fact that she played with her necklace when she was nervous, and that little sound she made right when she was on the edge of an orgasm.
Feeling the cool tip of it against my neck, knowing she was the one gently brushing it across my skin, sent a shiver down my spine and goosebumps up my neck. I exhaled—sighed contentedly, really.
Thank you, I teased, and for a moment, she froze, like she hadn’t noticed her compliment.
Quickly, she closed the concealer, threw it on top of her bunk, and got back to blending it into my skin.
I’d expected a sponge, but got her fingers instead.
I thank my skin-care routine for this. With my finger, I circled my own face.
Three steps, a pain in the ass every morning and night. But it gets the job done.
She nodded knowingly. Another glance at the round mirror beside us, and like I’d suspected, any trace of a hickey was gone. But she was still touching me. How do you know, then? Girlfriend? she asked, and her voice wasn’t carrying quite the same confidence it usually did.
Despite the right answer being my dead sister, I couldn’t help smile. That was new. Why? Jealous?
She huffed, tried to get the concealer from her bed to put it back, but didn’t get that far.
My hand curled around her wrist before I really knew it, and I tugged her back against my body.
Her round eyes blinked up at me, long lashes batting against her cheeks.
Have I ever given you a reason to be jealous?
You mean apart from your reputation as the fuckiest fuckboy on campus?
I snickered, and for a second, her eyes flicked to my fingers around her wrist, like she was just as aware of every point of contact between us. I wouldn’t go that far. And friendly reminder, you were the one that snuck out of my room a few months ago.