Stolen Course (Wrecked and Ruined #2)(48)

“I thought that was next week?” It is totally next week. Damn Caleb for actually listening to me when I talk. “Why didn’t you bring your stuff over tonight? I haven’t gotten to return the massage yet.” He smirks, and it almost makes me want to stay.

I lie again. “I forgot.”

“I’ll wake you up early. You can stop on your way.”

“I can’t. I have to clear a memory card, and that will take a little while. I need to do it tonight.” Jesus, I’m not even sure if I remember how to tell the truth anymore.

“Ugh. You are killing me,” he says, releasing me and rolling to his back.

I stand up and grab my shoes, before heading back to sit beside him on the bed.

“Would it make you feel better if I just run over there and grab my stuff and come back here?”

“Hell yeah it would. Give me a second. I’ll get dressed and drive you over there,” he says, pushing to his feet.

“No, I’m okay. How about you cook me some dinner while I’m gone? I’m starving.”

“Oh, I could use some dinner too.” He rubs a finger across the seam of my jeans between my legs. The heat in his eyes has me wishing I could abandon this mission altogether.

“I’ll be back. Give me an hour and you can have whatever you want.” I press a deep kiss to his lips, pulling away just before his tongue has a chance to find its way into my mouth.

Caleb lets out a groan but lets me go. “One hour, Emmy!” he yells as I head to his front door.

“I love you!” I yell back, shutting the door behind me before he has a chance to respond.

I get in my car and immediately pull out my phone.



Me: Where is Manda’s grave?

Jesse: Oak Terrace Cemetery. Why?

Me: Thank you.

Jesse: Caleb is going to kill me now, isn’t he?

Me: Probably. Just don’t tell him I asked.

Jesse: Oh this does not sound good, Emma.

Me: Trust me. I’m doing the right thing.





THE WORLD rushes around me as I watch Emma walk out my door. I know she’s coming back, but if I have learned anything in my life, it’s that there are always the what-ifs. You can’t live by them, but you can’t forget about them either. But with Emma, I have to consider it all.

When I’m with her, I’m a different man. She sets me free. I never even realized I was trapped until she forced her way into my life. I’ve spent years trying to fly for Manda, but with a smile and an intoxicating laugh, Emma somehow managed to release me.

I’m not a jealous guy—usually. You live, you love, and you don’t stray. If you do, you failed at the first two. But with Emma, it’s a horse of a different color. I hate her best friend just because I think he wants to see her naked. I can’t even see past the green to trust her. All rational thinking flies out the window when it comes to her. I’ve never wanted anything so much. But I’m a f*cking hypocrite. I have a body full of tattoos dedicated to my past, including her name across my heart. I don’t think I could be with Emma if the tables were turned. But when she lies in bed with me, I don’t feel like I’m f*cked up. She erases it all. And for that alone, she has stolen not only my heart, but my entire soul.





I CAN’T even begin to explain how excited I am right now. I just picked up the pictures I printed of me and Caleb. They turned out amazing. I couldn’t even bring myself to touch them up in Photoshop. We don’t look perfect, but that is more fitting than anything for us. While they were all great, I fell in love with one particular picture. It’s a selfie I snapped while we were lying in bed. The smile on Caleb’s face and my wide open-mouth laugh have all the makings of a picture that would usually make its way to my recycling bin. But this picture caused my heart to skip a beat. It perfectly encompasses our relationship, and the glimmer in Caleb’s eye as he watches me laugh sends warm chills over my body every time I look at it. I had two copies printed—one for Caleb’s place and one for mine.

He’s at the boxing gym tonight, so I’m going to surprise him by hanging it in his room. I found an empty natural-wood frame—one he no doubt made—in his bedroom. I hope it’s okay that I use it. He has these scattered all over his house. If I bought a new one, it would completely clash with the rest of his decor.

I know he keeps his tools somewhere. Just last week, he had them out when he and Eli were hanging his new TV. I’m pretty sure he left them inside. His workshop is locked, so I begin to dig through the closet. On the top shelf is a big cardboard box. I drag a chair over from the kitchen to pull it down. Surely he will have a hammer and maybe a nail in this heavy-ass box.

I lift off the top of the box only to find that it’s filled with paperwork. Just as I’m about to put it back, I see a picture that all but stops my heart. I slide out the tattered image of Sarah’s car wrapped around a tree. The immediate sickness I feel in my stomach knocks me to my ass. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t stop myself from dragging the box to the floor beside me. Piece by piece, I empty its contents. I carefully arrange picture after picture of that horrible night in a circle around me. From close-ups of the seatbelts inside the car to the skid marks that start just before the grass, this disturbing box has it all. But it’s not the pictures that bother me most. It’s the pages upon pages of witness statements with Caleb’s notes scrawled out to the side. Some dated as recently as two weeks ago.