The Coincidence of Callie and Kayden

fragile, just like her heart. “You’re making me nervous.”
     
    “I’m sorry,” I back out as feelings of shame rush over me. “I’m just stuck in my own head.”
     
    She frowns. “Kayden, you can tell me anything. There’s no judgment here.”
     
    “I know that,” I say with honesty as my hands grip her waist possessively. Lifting her up, I set her down on top of me, so one of her legs is on each side of my hip. “We’ll talk about it, but a little bit later.”
     
    Wetting my lips with my tongue, I cup the back of her head and bring her mouth toward mine, as I slide my other hand up the front of her, gripping at her breast, wanting to go back and relive the only peaceful moment I’ve had in my life.
     

Chapter 18
     
     
     
    #33 Lay With Someone, Motionless, Just Feeling Each Other.
     
     
     
    Callie
     
    “I think I have to go inside,” I say, checking the seventh message my mom has sent me. “Otherwise, she’s going to come out here and see this.”
     
    “See what?” he questions innocently as he flips me over so he’s above me and he takes my breast into his mouth, tracing circles over my nipple with the tip of his tongue.
     
    I gasp as my thighs ache for him to be inside me again. “You’re going to get me caught up again.”
     
    He leans away with a smile on his face, but his cheek is red and puffy. “So?”
     
    I fake a stern look. “I’m not kidding. She’ll come out here with her key and open the door to this.”
     
    He laughs, still not fully believing me, but frees me from his arms. “Fine, you win. I’ll let you go, but we’re coming right back as soon as you deal with your mother.”
     
    I laugh softly as I wrap the sheet around me and pad over to my bag to take some clothes out. I feel a little shy even after what we did. I manage to put my clothes on before I let the sheet go. He doesn’t question what I’m doing as he gets up and puts his jeans and shirt back on.
     
    I glance out the window at the dark sky. Everything seems perfect, untouchable, like I’m holding my life in my own hands for once. “How late is it?”
     
    He turns his arm and checks his watch. “Like seven thirty.”
     
    “No wonder she’s freaking out. I missed dinner.”
     
    He laces his fingers through mine as I open the door. “So how bad is this going to be?”
     
    I lead him down the steps behind me. “She’s going to ask you a thousand questions and be super cheerful.”
     
    “What about your dad?”
     
    “He’ll yammer about football, I’m sure.”
     
    My phone beeps and I pause at the bottom of the steps to check the message.
     
    “Is it another one from your mom?” he wonders and I shake my head.
     
    Seth: Hey, darling. How’s it going? Good I hope. Did you eat some delicious treats?
     
    Me: Maybe…  But what kind of treats r u talking about?
     
    Seth: OMFG!!! Did u? Because I had this really weird feeling that you did.
     
    Me: Did what?”
     
    Seth: U know what.
     
    I glance up at Kayden, who laughs at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s from Seth.”
     
    He leans over to get a better look and I cover the screen with my hand. “Are you talking about me?”
     
    I bite at my lip, feeling my cheeks warm. “No.”
     
    “You are,” he says proudly. “Even after that, I can still make you blush. God, I’m good.”
     
    I lower my head, allowing my hair to veil my face. “I’m not blushing.”
     
    “You so are.” He hooks a finger under my chin and tips my face up. “And I’m glad.” He brushes his lips lightly across mine, giving me a soft kiss that I feel all the way to my toes.
     
    I pull away, smiling, but pause when I catch sight of the extra car in the driveway. “Whose car is that?”
     
    Kayden tracks my gaze and shrugs. “I’m not sure.”
     
    Confused, I push open the back door. Seconds later, it all leaves me; every breath, every heartbeat, every kiss, every moment of my own. Black spots pop across my vision as I take in my brother, Jackson, sitting at the table, wolfing a piece of pie straight out of the tin. Across from him sits his best friend Caleb Miller. He’s flipping through a magazine, his dark hair scraggily and long, like he hasn’t had a haircut in years. When he glances up my gaze instinctively shoots to the floor.
     
    “Well, if it isn’t little Miss Callie all grown up,” Caleb says and I stare at the pencil on the table in front of him, envisioning what it would be like to stab him