Bait (Wake, #1)(57)
“Blake, I need you to come for me. I don't—” and before I could tell her why she threw her head back and said my name.
“Casey, oh. Oh, Casey.” I lost myself. I pushed forcefully one last time and buried her down into the carpet with my hips, emptying into her.
“I needed that,” I said out of breath.
She replied, as winded as I was, “Me, too.”
When we both had our bearings about us again, I helped her stand. I was curious. “I think we could still make the party if you want to go?”
Her face told me her answer, but she spoke anyway.
“I'd rather stay up here and order food. I don't feel like going down there anymore. You can go if you need to.” The expression on her face told me she wanted me to stay, to be with her again, and to talk face to face.
I hadn't realized how much I missed actually being with her in the flesh, until then. It was incredible, watching every thought she had color her face with sincerity. She didn't hide her feelings, or she was just miserable doing it.
“Well, I'm not hungry right now, but that sounds like a good enough plan. I need to call Troy and see what he's up to. No doubt harassing someone I'll have to deal with tomorrow,” I joked.
“He seems like a good guy. He's funny,” she said thoughtfully. After pulling on a shirt from out of her suitcase, she found her band and started tying her hair back.
“He is a good dude. He's been our best friend pretty much all our lives. He actually works with Cory now at Tinnitus Music.” I pulled my jeans back up and zipped my fly, after making sure my junk wasn't in the way.
“Like the instruments?” she asked. I was a little surprised that she knew of them.
“Yep. He makes drums.” I went into her bathroom and washed my hands, running water over my face. When I came back into her room, she was lying lazily across her bed. I fished my phone from my pocket. Swiping it open and unlocking it, I'd seen that I'd missed a call from my mom, one from my brother, and a call and text from Troy.
Troy: Dude, I'm with a chick. See you tomorrow.
Me: Sounds good.
I'd call my family back later.
“I'm all yours,” I said and plopped down next to her.
“Were you mad at me? Earlier?” she asked as she worried her lip.
I scooted back so I laid against the pillows at the headboard, as my hand habitually clawed through my hair.
“I wasn't mad,” I said hoping it sounded honest. The truth was I was mad and for many reasons. I didn't like that she didn't want me for more than a f*ck and I was mad that I lied about Aly seeing the marks. The only way I could cool my temper was to shut down a little. I wanted to scream and argue with her, but we'd only just seen each other after so long. If she only wanted a physical thing, then I was going to give it to her.
In the same way I wanted her to beg me for my body, I wanted her to beg for the rest of me, too. Fuck her boyfriend-fiancé, whatever. She didn’t really want him anyway. She couldn't. Not the way she gravitated toward me.
It was the wrong thing to say—the thing about Aly—but I felt cornered. I’d felt wounded, and I’d reacted.
I decided to come clean about it.
“Hey, come here,” I told her, and pulled her arm so that she'd curl into my side. “I didn't mean what I said earlier.”
She looked up at me with those big doe eyes and looking a little worried she asked, “When you said what?”
“When I said that you needed to take off your ring so that I wouldn't get scratches. I just didn't want to look at it.” She looked down at her bare hands.
“Why? You know I'm with someone and I know you're with Aly.” She lowered her eyes as she spoke about her assumptions regarding Aly and me. I supposed that, to her, they weren't assumptions since I pretty much told her that we were together.
“I'm not with Aly.”
“Casey, you don't have to lie to me about her. I have Grant and you have Aly. It's fair.”
Well, it wasn't fair, because I kept turning Aly down. I hadn't been with anyone since the last time Blake and I were together. Only she couldn't have known that. I wasn't about to touch on that subject. I couldn't stand to hear about her and Grant. That door stayed closed.
“It's true. I was just being a prick. We didn't get back together. I work with her and I see her a lot, but not like a relationship. She doesn't particularly like the situation, but that's the way it is.”
We sat there for a few long minutes, her body relaxed and then she said, “Good, I know that it shouldn’t bother me and that it isn’t my business, and we both know my situation, but it upset me. I’m sorry that I’m a hypocrite.” I didn't know how to take that, but the idea of her being jealous was both awesome and, as she even pointed out, ironic to me.
If only things were as easy to sort out on her side of the bed. But I had to leave that alone for the time, too.
We watched something on the discovery channel about Navy SEALs, which I wanted to watch, while we ate room service. It felt normal. We talked about her new job, which I already knew a lot about because I'm a creepy stalker.
We'd pulled back the curtains when we sat at the table and ate shitty room service. Well, mine was shitty. I ordered a steak that was overcooked and an undercooked baked potato. Blake ordered another BLT, citing you really could never go wrong with it.