CHAPTER 72 – ANTONIO
Caspian is waiting for me outside when my shift ends. My body jolts with happiness, like it does every time I see him.
“Hi.” He leans down to kiss me.
“Hey,” I say, inhaling him. He’s my favorite smell. My favorite everything .
I pull him into another kiss.
When we’re done, my head is spinning. I want to go home and be naked with him the rest of the day. Or my life.
“Can we skip the milkshakes?” I ask, cheeks flushed.
The look he gives me is more amused than aroused, so I already know he’s not going to say yes.
“Didn’t you say this morning that today might as well be the last day of your existence if you don’t get a double chocolate salty caramel surprise?”
I shift my weight from foot to foot. In theory, I did say that. Well, in practice too.
“You also told me that when Shakespeare wrote about ‘the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune’ he was talking about not getting a milkshake.”
What is wrong with his memory? Why is it so good?
“That was in the morning,” I mutter.
I’m pouting, but that’s okay, because Caspian is flaunting his elephantine memory.
“I want a different treat now,” I tell him.
He doesn’t change his mind. He obviously wants me to suffer and have a milkshake. I should stop declaring things I shall perish without, because Caspian sees them as personal challenges.
He takes my hand. “I’ll buy you the milkshake and then we go home.”
I stop.
“I might not want the other treat by then,” I say matter-of-factly.
I bite my lip when the familiar swoosh in my stomach makes me giddy.
Caspian’s self-control is impressive, but damn if I don’t test it every chance I get.
His eyes drag over my face.
“I hear you.”
His voice is steady, but I know that look. I’ve seen it when he’s holding himself back.
He’s tempted. But not enough.
“You should know by now that manipulation doesn’t work with me, sweetheart.”
That is an outrageous claim.
“I wasn’t trying to manipulate you,” I say hotly. “I was trying to—”
I fall silent.
Sometimes it’s the wisest option.
“You were trying to do what?”
I’m more interested in the ants I see hurrying along the pavement than in looking at him.
“Nothing.”
“You wanted me to give into your whim.”
“Maybe, but it wasn’t manipulation,” I argue. “It was coercion.”
Inside the café, Caspian places the order.
I trail my finger along his tanned forearm, enjoying the beautiful strength of it.
“One double chocolate salty caramel surprise, please,” he says to the girl behind the till.
He places a kiss on the top of my head just as the lanky guy making the milkshakes turns around.
He looks stricken.
“Caspian?”
Flushing crimson, he flees into the back. Soon, we hear a muffled sob.
My boyfriend looks confused.
I, on the other hand, am serene.
Not jealous at all.
Ha. Bloody. Ha.
I look at Caspian. He looks worried. Not about me, though.
He’s worried about the mystery sobber.
“Should you go check that he’s okay?” he asks the girl.
Emma, according to her name tag.
I huff.
Should Caspian maybe check that his boyfriend is okay?
Even in airplanes you’re advised to put on your own oxygen mask before helping others.
Caspian should make sure that I have oxygen before mentally resuscitating blonds from his past.
It’s basic relationship logic.
Emma shrugs.
“He’ll survive.” She tilts her head. “Is Josh your friend?”
Ma che cazzo.
“He’s not my friend,” I say. “That narrows it down, doesn’t it?”
“Antonio,” Caspian says calmly, as if he didn’t just leave me without oxygen and push me out of the plane.
To make room for Josh.
“We’re not doing this now. Do you still want the milkshake?”
“Sure,” I say. “But I will pour it over your head.”
I turn to Emma.
“Excuse me. Do you have a stool I could borrow? He’s very tall.”
Caspian takes my hand.
“We’ll come back another time.”
Outside, I yank my hand free.
He lets me, and suddenly I don’t know where to put my hands.
I fidget with the charms in my bracelet.
“I’m not jealous,” I announce. “But I need to go home for—for personal reasons.”
“Personal reasons?”
He steps closer. I can feel the heat of him.
“Deeply personal.” I’m trying not to cry. “Please respect my privacy during this difficult time.”
I take a step back so he can step into his new future with Josh. The symbolism is tragically beautiful, and my quiet heroism should be studied by future historians.
Caspian assesses me, his jaw flexing. He’s probably planning his happily ever after with Josh.
“I respect your privacy, Antonio. I can also tell you’re making assumptions again.”
“And how exactly can you tell that?” I ask, crossing my arms. “I don’t remember arriving in your life with a manual.”
“A manual would actually be extremely helpful.”
Before I come up with a clever reply, Josh appears.
Casually, he steps around the corner like an unfairly tall relationship destroyer no one ordered.
He has clearly been crying.
“Hi Josh,” Caspian says.
I seethe. What comes next? A romantic stroll and love locks on a bridge?
Caspian’s hand finds mine, his thumb stroking my palm, and I let him—before we say goodbye forever more.
“Everything okay?” he asks Josh.
Josh nods, but he looks sad. His blue eyes flicker between us.
“I thought you didn’t date.”
That’s when it gets too much. The images of Caspian touching Josh are too much.
Josh and Jake—I gasp.
Both names start with J.
It’s a clear pattern.
So clear that it leaves me with only one option.
“He doesn’t date,” I declare. “Not anymore.”
I walk away.
Not dramatically—I’ve moved beyond drama. No, this time I walk away in a mature, regular-paced way.
Caspian watches me go.
I hear him taking one of those long, calming breaths he sometimes needs around me.
“I didn’t. Antonio changed everything,” I hear him say. “Now, excuse me.” He’s already walking toward me. “My boyfriend is going through a difficult time.”
He catches up with me easily, like he always does.
“Do you want to have your meltdown here or wait until we get home?”
My lungs forget their job. How dare he suggest I’m having a meltdown when I have discovered a pattern?
“I just find it very interesting that you’ve settled for someone whose name starts with A.”
Caspian blinks.
“It’s obvious you enjoy consonants more than vowels,” I continue. “The letter J especially. I wonder who’s next. Jebediah?”
I cross my arms.
“You’re clearly after the whole set!”
Caspian looks at me for a long moment. I know what he’s doing. He’s figuring out how much more nonsense I have left in my system.
Well, I have plenty.
“Have you ever noticed,” I ask, hating the way my voice cracks, “that I have dark hair, brown eyes, and olive skin?”
He exhales and rakes a hand through his hair.
“Yes, Antonio, I have noticed.”
“Well, have you noticed—”
His hand cups the back of my head, gently but firmly so that I can’t escape his gaze.
“It’s okay to stop now, sweetheart.”
I swallow. I want to stop. But I can’t—not when it hurts so much.
“I love your hair,” he says, his fingers stroking my curls. “It looks like a halo of fury when you’re upset. I love your eyes and how expressive they are. I love your name, and how it sounds on my tongue.”
He pauses.
“I love everything about you.”
My throat burns. I blink back tears.
“The evidence suggests otherwise,” I say quietly.
Silence stretches between us, and suddenly I feel scared. Small.
I look down, convinced that I went too far.
Caspian tilts my chin up again.
“If you really feel that way, can you repeat it?”
I shake my head. I can’t repeat it. It was an awful thing to say.
“You didn’t mean it,” he says gently.
“No,” I breathe out.
“You’re ready to go home.”
“Please.”
Something cracks open in me. My hands curl into his shirt, the fabric bunching under my knuckles, and I press my face against his chest.
He’s my safety inhaler.
My need for him would probably feel humiliating if I weren’t so relieved. I hate what happens in my brain when I get like this, the way insecurity spins logic into barbed wire.
But I love that Caspian always knows how to cut his way through to me. I love that he’s willing to do it, over and over, and he never says I’m too much.
“There you are,” he murmurs against my temple. “My sweet boy.”
For a while he just holds me. His palm moves at the back of my neck, and his mouth brushes my temple. He kisses my hair once more and keeps an arm around me while he guides me toward the car.