The Hidden - Jessica Verday [8]
“Don’t say it, Abbey,” he begged. “Please don’t. I can’t think about that. About you … I just can’t.”
“Everyone has to die sometime.”
“You think I don’t know that?” He put his hand out, and it went through mine. “I know better than anyone.”
He turned away from me, obviously upset.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Don’t be angry.”
“I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I just can’t … I can’t picture you dead, Astrid.” Caspian held out both hands and spread them wide.
“I won’t bring it up again,” I promised, desperate to make everything better. “I swear.”
He exhaled a shaky sigh and closed his eyes, leaning his head next to mine. We would have been touching … if we could.
I closed my eyes too. The pain pill was making me sleepy. “Will you stay?” I asked, burrowing deeper into my covers, closer to him and yet still so far away. “Stay with me.”
“Forever,” he whispered. “I’m staying forever.”
Chapter Three
STRAIGHT CORNERS AND BAD ANGLES
In this way matters went on for some time …
—“The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”
When I woke up the next morning, I noticed two things. The first was that my sling was stuck underneath me at an impossible angle, and second … I had a hot guy in my bed.
Ignoring the dead weight sensation that I knew would lead to pins and needles when my trapped arm woke up, I lay very still and took in the sight before me. Caspian was on his side, one arm thrown up above his head. His T-shirt twisted slightly so that I could just barely make out the bare flesh above his jeans.
My eyes traced a path down the stripe of black hair that lay across his cheekbones. Then to his nose, his lips … Lips that I wanted to kiss again. How many days until November first? How many days until the anniversary of his death day, when we can touch?
Two weeks until school started, and then thirty-one days in October …
Too long. Much too long.
My gaze slipped lower. To his skin. I couldn’t help myself. Couldn’t stop myself from reaching out to try to feel that piece of him I wanted so badly. I’d never realized, never dreamt, that a relationship without something as simple as a touch could be so hard.
Caspian’s eyes flickered open, and I knew he felt the same tingle that I did.
“Hi,” I said softly.
He just looked at me. Then a slow smile came across his face. “Were you ogling me?”
“Drawing a mental picture,” I said, with a wicked grin of my own. “Remembering that night last Christmas when you took off your sweater and showed me your tattoos.”
With one swift movement he reached down and twisted up the shirt. It slid off, and my pulse skyrocketed. “Better?” he asked.
“Much.” I sighed. My heart beat like a drum in my ears, and the air around us felt heavy and thick. I couldn’t stop staring at him. Couldn’t stop looking at his skin. So different from mine, yet the same. It was fascinating. Little bumps and ridges made up the hollows of his collarbone, while smooth, taught flesh stretched all the way down …
He looked at me and raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to return the favor?”
“No.” I swallowed hard.
“No? That’s not really fair.”
“Oh, yes. It is. I’m the injured one here, so you have to indulge me a little.”
Caspian nodded. “All right. Have you indulged enough yet?”
I shook my head.
He rolled over and stretched out on his stomach, arms crossed in front of him, back fully exposed. The edges and lines of the tattoos on his shoulder blades blurred a little. The interlocking chain of small black circles and triangles all ran into one another. I realized I was staring too hard. And possibly drooling.
I shifted and pulled my arm out from under me, turning so that I was on my side, facing him. “You aren’t … I can’t even … Does it ever bother you that we can’t touch?” I asked desperately.
“Every day.”
His tone was soft. Simple. But a whole different world lay behind those words. His world. A world that I couldn’t be a part of. Not yet, at least. We were miles apart.
“What were you thinking about