Caught Stealing (Leighton U, #2)

by C.E. Ricci

“Living is exactly what I’m doing,” I say, a small hiccup leaving me on the last word. “Which is a lot more than I can say for them.” He winces, as most people do when I choose to make a morbid dead-parent joke. But hey, what doesn’t kill you just gives you seriously fucked-up coping mechanisms and one massive self-destruct button.

There’s a plea of forgiveness in his eyes as he continues to stare at me. One that gets my forgiveness every fucking time he’s bailed in the past—albeit on accident—and I’m certain this time is no different. Kason might be forgetful, but Mom always did say I’m loyal to a fault.

What I find more puzzling than anything is that I’m not even pissed about him tricking me or besting me in this messed up little game we’ve begun. As far as I’m concerned, it’s all par for the course. The reason I’m so fucking irate is because of how turned on he made me. How sexy, fun, and familiar his touch and kiss were. It’s disarming and more than a little maddening.

My eyes find the mirror again subconsciously, only to discover him already staring at me. Not in contempt or irritation like normal, though. There’s a flash of empathy in those dark depths, an emotion so out of place, I almost miss it entirely before he looks back out the window. But it was there, making me realize one thing. He was listening, after all.

My blood runs ice cold, and more than anything, I wish I’d gone upstairs with the rest of the guys—anything to avoid having this conversation with him. But luck never seems to be on my side when it comes to Holden Sykes, which means he can’t just drop it. With no one else around, nothing is going to stop him from digging until he gets all the answers he wants.

Even knowing this isn’t enough to snap me out of the seductive trance he’s pulled me into, though. If anything, he’s dragging me further and further under. Drowning me in want, lust, desire…until all I can do is succumb.

His eyes meet mine, and I swear, he can read every thought running rampant through my head. It makes my body tingle, a buzz coming from more than just the alcohol still coursing through my veins. I’m high on sunshine, tequila, and him; a combination sure to decimate the willpower of even the strongest of men. Something I’ve never been, nor will ever claim to be.

“Admit you want me.” “Not happening.” “You keep saying that, Nix, yet I don’t believe you.” “You want Kason,” I remind him, which in itself is a ridiculous notion. Nevertheless, if I need to remind him who he’s here with—who asked him to come on this vacation turned hellhole—then I will.

I’d have been better off doing this exact thing last night when I had the chance. If I had, maybe all of this could’ve been avoided. Yet, if I’ve learned anything from the mistakes I’ve made with Holden Sykes, it’s that I can’t change the past. So rather than dwelling on it, I storm into the house without making sure he comes up for air.

He has a way of bewitching me and everyone else around him. I hate admitting it, even if it’s just to myself, but I can’t deny the truth anymore. Something about the guy draws me in, dragging me under his spell and twisting me up inside. Knotting up my intestines and coiling around my heart in a grip that continues tightening no matter how hard I try to escape. But I have to. If I know what’s good for my friendship and my fucking sanity…I need to.

My throat constricts as I shrug into it, becoming enveloped in his scent, and God, if it doesn’t do something strange to my heart. It feels like he has his fist wrapped around it, and every time I catch sight of a new or innocent piece of him, he squeezes it a little harder. Claims it a little bit more. And that’s how I know I’m well and truly fucked here.

I watch him in the mirror, but my gaze quickly snags on my reflection instead. A man I hardly recognize stares back at me, and the craziest part is, it’s not a bad thing. Because the guy looking at me, the guy searching out Phoenix in the mirror, has changed. Has grown and evolved into someone I didn’t think myself capable of being. And it all happened because of Nix.

Except it does. Every time he says something sweet or even a bit corny, it sends my head straight into the clouds, at the same time vines of barbed wire wrap around my heart.

I know in my heart he does. There’s never been a moment where I’ve doubted it either. Even when we’ve been separated by time zones and hundreds of miles, he’s always made it more than obvious that he loves me. But I still want to hear it. The affirmation that I deserve it, despite all I put him through.