The Haunted - Jessica Verday [77]
But now I had time to remedy that, and I walked swiftly to the cemetery. I was glad I’d worn a long, loose, red cotton skirt and my sheer white peasant blouse. Thanks to that, I wasn’t turning into a puddle of sweat just yet.
Switching the small pile of books and some of Mom’s unused dinner-party candles from my left arm to my right, I passed by the gates and hurried toward the mausoleum. When I entered, Caspian was bent over his cardboard-box table, working on a drawing. He was so engrossed in what he was doing that he didn’t hear me come in.
“Hey, Casper,” I whispered, leaning in close. He jumped and looked embarrassed, and I caught sight of what was in front of him.
It was a half-finished scene of the two of us, lying on the grass, looking up at a sky filled with stars. My hair was wild and loose, spread all around me in crazy waves, and my face…
“I’m not that beautiful,” I murmured, captivated by the gorgeous girl he’d drawn there.
“Yes, you are, Abbey,” his tone was hushed and reverent. “Raven hair, red lips, porcelain skin. You’re like my own personal Snow White. And your eyes… they haunt me.” I sucked in a deep breath. He haunted my thoughts too.
He reached out a hand like he was going to touch my face, but then caught himself.
Switching course, he ran the hand through his hair instead. “Snow White always was my favorite,” he said.
“Are you calling me a princess?”
He shrugged. “If the shoe fits.”
I groaned and he laughed. “Okay, yeah, that one was bad.” Then he glanced down at my books. “What are those for?”
“These”—I sat the small pile on the box, being careful not to wrinkle his drawing—“are for you. Since you were sweet enough to leave me a surprise in my bedroom, I thought I’d bring you something. The candles are for when you run out of the ones in here, and I got the books at a library sale. So… happy birthday. Late. Or early. When is your birthday?” Caspian grinned as he picked up the first book from the top of the pile and squinted at the title. “December twenty-second. Jane Eyre, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s a good one. There’s a crazy old lady, and a mad wife. Ooh! And a fire.” He opened it and scanned the front page. “That settles it then. I’ll read this one first.” His words made me ridiculously pleased, and I could feel my entire face light up with happiness.
“If all I have to do to get a smile like that is read your books, then I promise to read one every day,” he said.
“Stop it. You’re going to give me heart palpitations.” He leaned closer. “That’s what I’m trying to do. Your face is absolutely adorable when you blush.”
My ears burned. Oh great, am I the color of a tomato now?
“Yeah, well, I can make you blush,” I retorted. “By telling you how hot you are, and that when that little piece of black hair falls into your eyes, it’s so sexy it makes me forget my words, and…” I stopped, suddenly aware of how warm the mausoleum was.
“Go on,” Caspian prodded, shaking his head so that his hair covered one green eye.
I blushed again, and glanced around me, slowly backing away from him. I just needed some… space to clear my head.
He followed me, stalking my every move. My blood felt like pure oxygen racing through my veins, fizzy and bubbling and making me want to float away. A hard wall at my back stopped me, but Caspian kept coming. I thought desperately of some way to change the subject. “I got you Moby-Dick,” I blurted out.
He gave me a sly smile. “Mmmm, did you? How… interesting.”
“And Treasure Island, and The Count of Monte Cristo.” I babbled on. “I thought you might like some boy books.”
He stopped an inch away from me. I felt like I was his prisoner.
“Let’s go back to the sexy and hot thing,” Caspian said. “Could we add a gorgeous or mysterious in there, too?”
I gulped. “Like you don’t already know you’re all of those things. You probably had girls falling all over you before.”
Caspian cocked his head to one side. “True. But I always thought it was because I was the quiet new guy. And besides,