“You again,” someone says beside me, their lips close enough to the shell of my ear, they faintly brush against it.
Turning my head, my gaze locks with Atticus’s. “Me again.”
He smiles, toothy and bright. “Glad you came,” he states, hands shoved into the pockets of his tight skinny jeans.
My brows furrow at that. “You are?”
Nodding, he hums, “Mmhmm. And I don’t think I’m the only one.” He tips his head to the left. I follow it, my eyes locking on Caspian, who’s already watching me.
Glancing back at Atticus, he’s walking away, leaving me standing here alone with no choice but to cross the room toward Cas.
It’sreallynow or never.
My limbs tremble as my feet carry me across the open space. We never break eye contact, though out of my peripheral, I can see Cory getting up and walking away. The closer I get, the quieter my mind gets, and everyone vanishes. By the time I reach him, sitting where Cory was, it’s just him and I.
He never put his shirt on after the show. He’s got it shoved into the pocket of his jeans, the patchwork tattoos adorning his skin on full display. I can smell him from where I’m sitting, an intoxicating mix of sweat, musk, and something spicy. His steel-gray eyes flit all around me, cataloging everything. It’s as unnerving as it is exciting.
“Hi.” His voice is horse, I’m guessing from the show. He doesn’t sing, technically, but I’m sure he sings along and probably shouts while he’s playing. The raspy, gravelly sound of that one word shoots through me, landing in my groin. I try to ignore it.Trybeing the operative word.
Clearing my throat and swallowing around the enormous mound that’s made itself a home in there, I blurt out, “Hey, you guys were great tonight.Youwere great. You’re always great, though.”
I clamp my lips shut, biting the inside of my cheek, feeling my face heat.Way to keep it cool, Rowan.
Caspian chuckles softly. “Thank you.” We stare at each other for a moment with no words exchanged, the air seeming to grow thicker. The blood roars in my ears. I feel high with his eyes on me.
“Wanna go outside and smoke?” he asks, breaking the bubble.
I nod. “Sure.”
The chilly night air does nothing to tamp down the inferno raging on inside my body or my overheated skin. A cold sweat breaks out along my neck as we sit down, our backs pressed against the building. It looks almost like a loading dock out here, and I know if it were daylight, we would be able to see the water.
Caspian reaches into his pocket, retrieving his pack of smokes and his phone. He turns music on,Fugitivesby Above Waves, the volume low enough that we can still talk, but loud enough that we can clearly hear. Once he sets the phone on the ground between us, he flicks the top lid open on the Marlboro pack. He lights two, handing me one, and for a while, we sit side by side and smoke, not saying anything, not even looking at each other. Being near him is comforting in a way I don’t even know how to describe.
The cigarette between my lips, I take a drag, the toxic smoke filling my lungs, my skin buzzing. “Did you know Sydney has over a hundred beaches?” I ask pretty much out of nowhere.
“You’re so fucking random.” He laughs, the sound lighting me up. I glance over at him, our eyes meeting, the smile falling from his face as his Adam’s apple rolls in his throat on a harsh swallow.
“I’ve missed you,” I breathe, returning my gaze straight ahead, not willing to see him as he potentially rejects me.
“Have you?” he asks, not unkindly, but almost… hopeful.
I nod, my mouth suddenly too dry to speak.
He clears his throat, taking another drag from his nearly gone cigarette. “So, how many shows did you buy tickets to?”
My heart spazzes out, ricocheting all around my chest. It’s erratic, and I wish I could make it stop. Gnawing on the inside of my cheek, I consider how fucking crazy I’m about to sound.
“All of them,” I reply plainly.
His gaze burns a whole in the side of my face. I can’t look at him. “No, you didn’t.”
I huff out a laugh through my nose. “Yup. Yeah, I did.”
“Why?” It comes out as a whisper. A barely-there question.
Finally, I turn my head, meeting his gaze and holding it, a flood of emotion rushing through me. He’s looking at me questioningly, but his gaze is full of… something. Surprise, probably. “Because whether you like it or not, you’ve become somewhat of a need for me, Caspian. The way you left the island fucking crushed me, and I needed to talk to you and set things straight. This was the only way I could figure out how to do that.”
“I don’t…” He shakes his head absentmindedly. “I don’t know what to say to that. I agree we need to talk, but the fact that you bought tickets for every single show…”
