Bait (Wake, #1)(15)

How could I? The million-dollar question. Of course I loved Grant. He was kind and sweet. He was my boyfriend. “I do like him. I love him. I don't know what happened last night.”

“And this morning? Today?” He stepped closer, shrinking the space between us. “I thought we had a good time.” His eyes burned into mine. His voice was almost pleading.

“What do you want me to say? I don't even live here.” Feelings of frustration and confusion fogged my head. What did he want from me? “I don't know how to explain it.”

“It's simple. I want you to say that you had a good time. You, obviously, don't like your stupid boyfriend and that you want to have a good time tonight before you go home.” That didn't seem like too much to ask. Well, all except for the part about Grant, my stupid boyfriend.

“He isn't stupid.”

“He's not?” A boom of laughter flew straight out of his chest. “Okay, then where is he?”

“He had something come up. He couldn't make it.”

“That's lame. Micah said he was going to be there last night and told us how happy she was to finally meet him. She said that you were excited to show him around and introduce him to your old friends.”

“So?” I fidgeted with the errant skin on my finger and pulled the flesh to the quick. I couldn't look at him. I felt like I needed to defend myself, and my relationship to someone who couldn't possibly care about it.

“So, if he was so great, then he would have been there.” He kept advancing on me and I didn’t know whether to fight or flee.

“I don't know why you care, really. It was one night.”

“Yeah, it was one night. One night where you called my name, not his. One night where your beautiful lips begged for mine, not his. One night where you slept in my arms, not his.”

My finger ripped apart the piece of skin and it smarted. I looked at my hand, it was bleeding. Absentmindedly, I brought it to my face for closer inspection. I had done a number on it. Without saying another word, Casey took hold of my hand and pushed the wounded digit into his warm mouth.

At first I was shocked that he'd do that. It was such an oddly intimate thing, putting someone's bloody finger into your mouth without thinking about it. It burned as his tongue ran over the sore spot, but it soothed, too.

Finally, I had the willpower to look him in the eyes and all I saw was concern. “What do you care anyway? Don't guys have one-night stands with women all the time?”

My finger left his warm mouth with a plop and he smiled. “I think you deserve better. That’s all.”

“You've known me for one day. You don't even really know me at all. As far as you know I'm a cheating whore.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I was embarrassed and ashamed.

I hung my head on those words. I couldn’t look at him and see my words reflected back in his eyes. But he tilted my chin back up and said, “Don't say that, Blake. You're not like that. Even I know you're not.”

“Well, from what you know I sleep around on my boyfriend. I don't see how that makes you think I deserve more. Maybe I deserve what I get.”

“That's stupid. He's just the wrong guy.”

“And you're the right one?” I pulled my hand away. The closeness was raising my temperature and clouding my already terrible judgment.

Leaning down to whisper in my ear, he softly said, “Do you really think what we had last night was a mistake? Do you regret it?”

The moment of truth. Hell, no. I didn't regret it, but I couldn't say that it wasn't a mistake. The mistake was knowing what he tasted like. The mistake was wanting more. But I doubted I'd ever regret Casey Moore.

“Yes,” was all I could manage. It was the easiest way.

The word no sooner left my lips before he straightened. His lean body tensed and he quietly chuckled and wiped his lips with his thumb. “Then you are a liar.” And he left.

I stayed in Micah's room for a few more minutes and used her bathroom to freshen up. Looking at myself in the mirror I realized that lying to him felt worse than lying to Grant and I didn’t know why.

When I left the comfort and privacy of the bedroom I was instantly assaulted with music and people. Lots of classmates, and I guessed, family and friends were there drinking and dancing. But I didn't feel like partying anymore.

The party was going stale on me and I knew I couldn't stay much longer. I found Micah and Cory and talked to them for a little while. They were on the back porch waiting for their turn in a beer-pong match, and as a guy in an “Eat Me” T-shirt yelled to them, “You're up,” I kissed my friend goodbye and told her I'd call her.

“Are you okay?” Micah asked into my ear as we hugged.

“Yeah, hey, I have an early flight.” Another lie. “Congratulations. I'm so happy for you.”

When I hugged Cory goodbye, I saw Casey through the French doors. A petite girl with long blonde hair was already on his hip.

First, I thought how appropriate it was. He wasted no time lining his night out the same way he did the night before. Cory followed my gaze and said, “They broke up,” as if he'd read my mind. I hated that I was so transparent. But it was certainly the cue I needed to propel myself toward the door.

I reiterated to them, “I don't care. I have a boyfriend. It was nice meeting you, Cory. Take care of our girl.”