Bait (Wake, #1)(19)

Before I could filter my words, I asked, “Is that how what's-his-face got you?” I heard the bitterness and quickly growing jealousy, over someone who didn't even belong to me, saturate my voice.

“Yep. Well, everything but the pink nose thing. He wouldn't notice that.”

I thought about how I couldn't wait until she dumped that poor bastard. Then I realized that I wouldn't even know.

“So we're going to be friends then, honeybee?” The flame faded fast in her eyes as they took long blinks.

“Mmm. Hmm.”

I watched her fall fast asleep and I wished I had had a drink. I would sip it and savor every second of both the liquor and the view. Her hair was soft and I threaded my fingers through it, over and over. Combing them clean through without a knot to yield me.

After what seemed like minutes, and light years alike, my legs gently slid out from under her head and I moved silently away from her. Crouching down by the couch to get one last look at her, I tasted her lips one more time.

She must have settled into a dream, because heard a soft hum come from her. I pretended it was me she was dreaming about as I kissed her. She hummed again and I considered many things, like moving and kidnapping, but settled on missing.

As I shut the door to a room, where only the night before was full of panting and sweating, I wondered if I'd ever see her again.

And I missed her already.





Sunday, May 25, 2008


I MISSED HIM THE moment I realized he was gone.

My flight was on time and the afternoon plane ride was clear all the way north up the coast. I didn't feel like I was going home though. I couldn't shake the feeling that every step I took was wrong. The closer I got to the airport? the more it felt like leaving was the real mistake.

My conscience was probably just getting to me. The angel on my shoulder sat with her head draped forward, haloed head in her hands.

Hang-overs sucked.

Hang-overs and shoulder angels were real drags when you were flying home after a massive alcohol and tempting-man binge.

Casey.

He was gone when I woke up that morning. I remembered him covering me with the blanket. I had lain there fantasizing about him kissing me and making me forget how bad I was. But fantasizing in the face of opportunity only equaled disappointment. I fell asleep before ever getting my second chance.

My last chance.

At about thirty thousand feet up I decided I wasn't going to think about Casey Moore again. I wasn't going to scan my memory counting his different smiles. I wasn't going to remember his hands digging into my hips. And I definitely wasn't going to close my eyes and beg my conscious thoughts to replay every second I spent with him.

But that decision was wasted, because I did all of those things.

The plane landed uneventfully. I departed the recycled air and the only thing I wanted was the sanctuary of my bed. Alone.

Knowing I'd lost my luggage, Grant waited for me at the ramp leading to the bag conveyor. I returned his smile as brightly as I could, but it was forced.

Wasn't he everything I wanted? I must have left my love for him in my AWOL suitcase, because I wasn't feeling it.

He was so smart and ambitious. Kind and gentle. My family loved him, mostly. My brother Reggie never really paid him any attention, but Reggie was much different than the rest of us.

In the offspring hierarchy of my family, Reggie, Reagan Ashley Warren, was the middle. Shane was the eldest and I was the baby. He couldn't have been more opposite from our oldest brother, Shane. Reggie lived in a high-rise in Chicago, Shane currently lived with our parents again. Reggie was adventurous, flying to Europe on a whim, sending me pictures of himself in front of global landmarks. The pyramids. The Eiffel Tower. The Taj Mahal.

The most adventurous thing Shane ever did was run off to Vegas and marry Kari. Sharing his current address with our mom and dad said a lot about how that marriage was doing.

But everyone else thought that the sun rose and set in Grant's ass. Up until recently, I had too. I still did. I still wanted to anyway.

“Welcome home,” he said and placed a chaste kiss on my mouth. My thoughts went to Casey. I was wicked. I was wrong and I hated that I felt like my boyfriend was kissing away the last remnants of the stranger I'd just met.

“Thanks for picking me up.”

“No problem. How was your flight?”

How was my flight? Was I on a plane? My body was, but my mind was somewhere completely different. Somewhere with him.

“It was good. I'm really tired though. I think I'd like to go home. Can you just drop me off? I have work early in the morning. And honestly, I just want to take a shower and go to bed.”

I wasn't an idiot, I saw the confusion and disappointment on his face. In fact, I deserved it.

“Yeah, sure. Do you want to grab some food on the way or...?” His voice trailed off. I wasn't sure if I should or not. I didn't think I could be around him.

“No. I'm not that hungry. I'm really worn out.” He slipped the big bag off my shoulder and rested the strap on his, then grabbed my hand to walk me out of the airport.

“Did you have a good time then? I'm sure it was nice spending all that extra time with Micah, since I wasn't there cutting in on your girl time.” His face was hopeful and the attempt at making his absence a blessing, didn't go unnoticed.