 
Everything you want 1

by

Evelyn Lyes

SMASHWORDS EDITION

Sometimes a kiss can change everything.

Twenty-five year-old Callie, who became a member of the Waldwell household ten years ago, has been playing older sister to Blade Waldwell, three years her junior. He is her saviour, her protector, the boy whose presence helped her pick up the pieces after her parents died.

Blade has loved Callie for nine years, afraid that she will never see him as the man he has become and that she will forever treat him like a child. Even though he promised himself he would wait for the right moment to reveal his love to her, the time for waiting comes abruptly to an end when he gives into temptation and kisses her.

Copyright © 2013 Evelyn Lyes

 Evelyn's New Release Mailing List

Smashwords Edition, License Notes:

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting author's work.

This book uses British spelling

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

Everything You Want 1

Midpoint

Everything You Want 2 ~ excerpt

OTHER BOOKS BY EVELYN LYES

Chapter 1

Callie Gareney took big gulps of night air, polluted by the fumes of the city, as if that would help her clear the soft buzzing in her head caused by the alcohol in her veins. She wasn't drunk, but she wasn't sober either. Her eyes fell on the small group of people who stood beside her, chatting.

"Where to now? The Spade?" Camden, a tall, handsome blond, named a well-known bar that stood three doors down and closed at three o'clock, not at midnight like the bar from which they had just emerged.

Callie's hand went into her pocket and her fingers wrapped around the cold plastic of her phone.

A petite redhead looped her arm with Callie's, her green eyes shining. "I suspect Callie is not going anywhere."

Rose was right. Callie gave a smile to her second favourite co-worker -- the top slot belonged to Camden, but that was only because she had known him longer. She would have loved to continue the evening in the company of her friends and co-workers, celebrating the tenth anniversary of the café where they worked, but fifteen minutes ago she had gotten a text.

"Don't tell me that your watch dog is on your trail again." Camden stepped into the pedestrianized high street, to move out of the way a group of people passing them.

"Stop calling him that." Callie slapped his arm. "He's close by, that's the only reason he's picking me up."

"Isn't it suspicious that he's always close by when you go drinking with us?" Rose asked.

"There's nothing suspicious about it," Callie said. "He's a teenager, he's out every weekend."

"But not drinking, since he's picking you up. Don't you find that strange?" Rose commented.

"He's not a teenager anymore, not at twenty-two, or that means that Rose is a child, too." Camden grinned at Rose before his gaze moved to the street before them. "Look, he's already here."

"I'm not a child." Rose glared at Camden then followed the direction of his gaze. "Poor boy, you still see him as a kid, but he hasn't been one for quite some time. Well, at least he doesn't look like one."

Callie observed the biker dressed in black, slowly edging closer on his red Yamaha among the strolling groups of people, bicycles and a few slowly moving motorcycles. Despite Blade being only three years younger than she, she had been taking care of him since she was fifteen years old and he would always be her baby boy, who had helped her rise above the suffocating blankness and loneliness that had threatened to swallow her whole.

The red bike parked in front of her, forcing Camden to step out of the way. The driver took the helmet attached to the back of the bike and offered it to Callie. He gave her friends a short nod, the lights of the street lamp reflected in his visor.

"See you on Monday," Callie said to them. She put on the helmet and climbed onto the bike behind Blade before she waved to her friends. Then they were off and even though Blade drove slowly, using the side roads instead of the highway, they arrived at the driveway of their house in the suburbs twenty minutes later.

Blade stopped in front of the house and, after she climbed down, guided the bike into the garage while Callie went inside. She stopped in the foyer where she balanced on one leg trying to push down her stupid boot. She lost her footing and she would have fallen down if not for a strong arm that wrapped around her waist.

"Thanks." She didn't even look up at Blade, but continued to push the boot down her leg.

Blade sighed and still holding her leaned over and unzipped first her left boot then the right one.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot about that." Over her shoulder, Callie glanced at his chocolate brown eyes, her lips curving in a small smile. She kicked off her boots and she would have told him that he could now release her, when she found herself lifted up in the air and tossed over Blade's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She shrieked.

"Stop wiggling or you will fall," Blade warned her as he carried her to her room. He passed the wardrobe parallel to the door, passed the dresser, the small armchair and end table, to lay her down on the bed.

With her legs dangling from the bed, Callie watched Blade climb over her, his knees framing her hips as his wide shoulders blocked the weak light coming from the hallway. Twenty-two, huh? He had grown up to be such a handsome man, looking so mature. Soon he wouldn't need her anymore and then...

His fingers pushed the first button of her white cardigan free of the button hole.

In the semi-darkness she tried to see his eyes, hidden under the strands of chestnut brown hair that fell on his forehead. In reality, he had never needed her, he just pretended he did, for his father's sake, probably. She knew that, she just pretended not to because as soon as she openly acknowledged it, she would have to leave the safety of the place she had considered her home for the last ten years.

She touched his cheek. And she would have to leave him, the boy who had become the centre of her world. She wasn't ready to leave him, not yet, but she would eventually. One day he would get himself a girlfriend, if he didn't have one already, he would start a family and then there would be no place for her by his side. Even now, he was already slowly drifting away; he kept her on the side line, out of his life. She didn't know where he went, where he hung out and who his friends were. Of all his friends, she knew only one.

His mouth curled in a smile and he leaned into the touch while his fingers continued to move along the edges of her sweater until he had unbuttoned all the buttons.

"I'm not that drunk, you know." She lifted herself on her elbows, their foreheads almost colliding.

"No?" He waggled his brows. "What a pity." He moved backward and when his feet touched the floor he stood up. "Take a shower and go to bed, okay?"

She sat up, frowning. Had he just flirted with her?

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his black jacket and moved backwards, his eyes on her, scrutinising her. "Don't wait up for me."

She watched him turn and leave the room, then a moment later she heard the muted slam of the door and the roar of the bike as he drove away. She lowered herself back onto the bed. She would have asked him where he was going, but the last time she had done that he had ignored her question. She told her friends that he only picked her up because he was close, but lately it seemed like that was a lie. Why did he pick her up, insisting on driving her home? And then why did he leave afterwards?

Callie was still pondering those questions next morning as she prepared scrambled eggs on the stove in the small U-shaped kitchen. She heard the footsteps before strong arms embraced her middle and a body still warm from sleep pressed against her back.

"Good morning," Blade's melodic voice, laced with sleep, greeted her. He leaned his chin on her shoulder.

She hadn't heard him return home last night, but no matter how late he went to sleep, he always came down for breakfast. "You are heavy."

"Hmm."

"Do you want anything besides eggs and toast?"

"Milk."

He always liked that combination. She smiled, then her mouth narrowed and she absently poked the white and yellow mass with the spatula. "Why did you pick me up and then leave when I could have taken a taxi? Or we could have just gotten home later and you wouldn't have had to go out of your way to bring me home."

"I promised my father that I would look after you." Blade's arms withdrew and he shifted away from her. From the hanging cabinet to Callie's left, he took out two plates and utensils. He set the forks on the small table that stood a step away, under the window.

Dodging her question by trying to distract her, eh? Callie turned off the stove and turned around. "You do know that I'm old enough to take care of myself?"

"Is it so wrong that I worry about you?" He flashed his teeth in a charming smile, his head slightly tilted and his eyes full of child-like innocence, the look he liked to use on her to avoid the consequences of his mischief, or when he wanted something. He stepped closer, his brown eyes on her grey ones, and grabbed the pan from the stove, took a step to the side and started to pile the eggs onto two plates.

She pushed her way past him to take milk out of the refrigerator. She took the glass and poured the milk into it while he took care of the toast that waited to be taken out of the toaster beside the stove.

"What are you doing today?" She put the glass on the table and sat on one of three stools.

"Nothing much. Sleep and then work later, on a project." He placed one plate before her and the other one beside her before he perched on the stool beside her.

"If you have time, we could go shopping, since the fridge is almost empty, and this evening we could have a movie night?" She took a bite of eggs and then a bite of the toast.

"Sure, we can go to the store together, but as far as movie night, I'm meeting friends in the evening. What about tomorrow?"

It has been ages since they'd had a movie marathon, and watching movies late into the night on Sunday when she had to wake up early on Monday didn't sound appealing to her, but she tried not to appear disappointed. "Tomorrow is fine."

The sound of ringing came from the hallway.

Their eyes met and a few seconds passed in silence, since the stationary phone set in the living room rang so rarely that its sound was foreign to their ears.

"Your father?" Callie put down the fork and rose. "Did he lose another cell phone?"

"That or he destroyed it again. Or maybe it's just telemarketers?" Blade shrugged his shoulders, his face blank, and dug into the food.

He hadn't seen Jack, his father, for a year and to her knowledge the last time they had spoken was a month ago. Shouldn't he be more enthusiastic?

She was right, it was Jack and he had wonderful news. He was coming home. But when she announced that to Blade, he looked like she had just told him somebody died.

Chapter 2

Blade narrowed his eyes at the crowd on the dance floor before him, twisting their bodies to the beat of the music. He was in the company of his friends and he'd already had two beers, but he could still feel the tension lingering in his shoulders and neck. His father was coming home. He grimaced.

A blond behind him poked Blade with his elbow. "Man, stop sighing and go dance or something."

"I'm fine." Blade lifted the bottle of beer and took a sip, his eyes trailing over the people under flashing beams of white, yellow and red. He scrutinised the nearest girl, whose short glittered dress hardly covered her ass. She had great legs and seeing so much skin should entice him, but he felt numb to the sight.

Across from him, Greg, his best friend, rolled his dark eyes. "You don't look fine. You are at least two beers away from fine. What's happened?"

"Nothing." Blade drained the bottle and stood up from the booth. "Anyone for another round?"

Everybody nodded and Blade descended the two stairs that separated the lounge from the dance floor. He pushed his way through the sweaty bodies to the bar, where he leaned his elbow on the metal counter, half-facing the crowd. He waited until he could make eye contact with the bartender, mouthed the word 'beer' and showed him four fingers.

He took the beers, paid the man and then lingered by the bar, but not because of the blonde on the stool beside him, who fluttered her eyelashes. _Come on, like that's going to work on me_ , Blade thought. He shook his head slightly before he again directed his gaze at the people dancing. Sometimes, he allowed a girl to pick him up and take him home, but only on special occasions and only when a girl reminded him of _her_. But there were no girls who looked like _her_ in here today.

_No, wait._ He lifted himself up on his toes to better see a girl in a black and white tunic, dancing behind a group of people who had parted just long enough that he was able to spot her . Yes, from a distance and from the side, the resemblance to _her_ was remarkable.

The blond girl slipped off the stool, stepped closer and said hello to him. He ignored her, picked up the beers and carried them to the table. After he plopped them down, he shoved his way through the people on the dance floor. Above their heads he could see glimpses of the brunette from behind as she waved her arms, the braid of hair that ran from her left temple and ended in a tail at her right ear bouncing with her movement. There was something about that girl, something that called to him and that made her shine out for him like a beacon in the night. Not only did she look similar to _her_ from the side and back, she also had similar posture. She was perfect.

"Hey, handsome." A manicured hand descended on his arm, together with the overwhelming smell of sweet perfume and sweat. He shook it away without a second glance.

A man blocked his view of the girl, his arms pumping through the air.

_Not a boyfriend_ , Blade hoped as he continued to elbow his way through the crowd, closer and closer.

A tall blond came near, he said something to the man.

The blond looked familiar and when Blade shortened the distance between them in two steps, he knew why. It was Camden, Callie's friend. His eyes fell on the redhead and then on the brunette, who was now half-hidden behind Camden's tall body.

His mouth curled upwards. "Callie," he said, the sound of his voice lost in the loud music. Then he furrowed his brows. What was she doing here, when she should have been at home, reading, watching telly or whatever? No wonder the dancing stranger looked like _her_ , when she _was_ her.

She better not be drinking; he knew what happened when she drank. The memory of a half-empty bottle of white wine glistening in the afternoon light was still vivid in his mind. He hated wine, but more than wine he hated the memory of finding her, sprawled half-naked on the bed, moaning, with a boy above her.

His shoulders tensed and his jaw clenched. How old had he been at that time? Thirteen? Fourteen? But finding Callie, his beautiful and cherished Callie, having sex with somebody who wasn't him had made him act like he was five. He had a violent tantrum in which he hurled the bottle of wine against the wall of the hallway; a washed-out outline of the stain still marked the spot. His snarls and his fisted hands had that boy running out of the house and had Callie crying, huddled against the headboard, a sheet tightly wrapped around her. His temper had scared her; the intensity of it had scared him, too, but he couldn't help himself. She wasn't his, she was his father's, but he wanted her for himself. The desire for her consumed him and burned inside him with such intensity that sometimes he felt tempted to get her wasted and to use her diminished inhibition to his advantage. Not that he could ever do that.

Callie peeked out from behind Camden, her face lit up as her gaze landed on him and her mouth formed an 'o.' She darted closer to him, her fingers touched his arm and she half-leaned on him to yell over the music, "What are you doing here?"

He wrapped his arm around her waist, feeling the softness of his body against his side, and his mouth brushed against the shell of her ear. "Don't tell me you are unhappy to see me?"

"Just surprised, that's all." She smiled up at him, her grey eyes sparkling under the flash of white light.

He cupped her cheek, trying to gauge how much she had drunk and how long before he would have to take her home. Actually, if it had been up to him, he would have taken her home that very minute, but he doubted that she would appreciate being sent home before midnight.

"What?"

"Nothing." He smiled down at her and released her.

"Dance with me." Her fingers trailed down his arm and she wrapped them around his hand, then took a step backwards, moving her hips.

"Sure," Blade said to her, then nodded to the redhead, Rose, who was beside them, already twisting her body with the rhythm of the music, while Camden only lazily shifted his legs.

Blade held Callie's hand, imitating Camden's slow, slightly stiff movements while he watched Callie step closer then backwards, all the while shaking her hips and waving with her free hand, just the way they had been taught in a Latin dance class they had taken for a year when he was fifteen. Callie had wanted to learn and he went along, too afraid to leave her on her own. What if she met somebody?

Callie tugged him closer, caught his other hand, then put both of his hands on her hips, sliding her fingers between his. She leaned closer to tell him, "You can do better than this." She took a step backwards, forcing him to follow, and then a step forward.

Blade glanced at their entwined hands resting on her hips, then at her eyes that smiled up at him. He swallowed, hard. Did she even know what she was doing to him? How difficult it was to keep himself in check when she touched him and looked at him like that? How he would love to press her against the nearest flat surface and ravish her? Over her head his eyes met with Camden's. He looked like he knew exactly what was on Blade's mind.

A ballad replaced the fast music and Callie wrapped her arms around his neck. It became even more difficult to appear impassive as her delicious scent enveloped him and her soft curves pressed against his body. For a short moment, he had to close his eyes and deeply inhale the stale air, but it didn't help to suffocate the raw desire that had coursed through his body from the moment her hand first came in a contact with his skin.

Blade silently swore and, with the excuse that he needed a drink, he removed himself from Callie. When he returned with his beer, Callie and her friends were sitting around the small table near the DJ booth. He had told Greg that he would join them later after he got Callie home, but if they went anywhere else in the meantime, they should text him. He glided onto the bench beside Callie, eyeing her glass, which looked like it contained apple juice, but he knew from experience that if he tried the amber liquid, he would taste a Martini Bianco. He could never understand why she ordered a double and had them pour it into a normal-sized glass.

Callie shifted closer and her breath caressed Blade's skin when she used her hand as a megaphone against his ear. "I thought you weren't coming back."

Now it was his turn to yell at her ear. "Why wouldn't I?"

She shrugged her shoulders then leaned toward him again. "I thought you would try to drag me home like you did yesterday, but you left your bike at home and even if you hadn't --" her eyes lowered to the bottle in his hand "-- you are already drunk."

"I'm not drunk." He glanced at his watch. It was eight minutes past midnight. "But I can't say that for you."

"I'm quite sober."

"I don't know." He shook his head and flicked his fingers against her glass, admiring the flush on her cheeks. "How many of those have you had?"

Her lips pinched and her eyebrows lowered. "I know what you are trying to do. I'm not going home."

"What am I trying to do?" Blade faced her, his eyebrows rose up and a small smile played on his face. He rested his arm on the bench behind Callie.

"I'm staying at Rose's tonight," she said.

The smile was wiped off his face and his eyes narrowed, not at her, but at Camden, who sat behind Callie. He was aware that Rose and Camden were neighbours and at the thought of Callie being anywhere close to a man's bedroom, something twisted his insides into a tight knot. What if they were something more than friends and he hadn't noticed it?

"Stop glaring at me." Callie poked him in his shoulder.

"I'm not glaring at you." Blade stood up and wrapped his hand around her wrist. He tugged her upwards.

"What are you doing?" She resisted his pull.

He bent over her. "We need to talk and I'm sick of yelling."

She rolled her eyes and after she told Camden that she would be back soon, she allowed him to pull her alongside the bench and up.

Holding onto her hand he guided her through the crowd, past the bar out of the main hall into the hallway with restrooms on one side and the exit stairs on the other. He manoeuvred her in front of him and against the wall.

She crossed her arms. "Talk."

He needed to know what was going on between Camden and her. If there was something, would she deny it, afraid that he might tell his father about it? Or maybe she would admit it and beg him not to tell him, like that time he had caught her red-handed. Shit, did he really have to think of that again?

"Talk," she repeated. "Or I'm going back."

He leaned his forearm on the wall beside her head. "Let's go home."

She sighed and her thumb and digit pinched her earlobe, something she did when she got irritated or didn't know what to say or do. "Why are you doing this?"

"Don't go to Rose's."

"Stop being such a child." She jabbed her finger at his chest.

This time it was he who sighed. She still looked at him as if he were twelve years old, not twenty-two. What did he have to do to change that?

A group of customers forced him closer to Callie and with the stiletto heels she wore the distance that usually separated them was much smaller. Her mouth tempted him, seduced him.

"Blade?"

And the way she said his name... He bent his head, their lips almost touched and their breath mingled and her sweet smell enveloped him. He expected to be pushed away, but instead she stood there, frozen, her eyes dilated and her breath rushed. Closing the small gap would change things between them and he wanted them to change, he needed them to change, he yearned for the change. But the plan was to first finish school and become independent, then woo her and sweep her off her feet.

But his mouth brushed against hers and he was lost in the taste of her, in the texture of her. His hands cupped her cheeks and he drew her ever nearer, then his tongue plunged inside her mouth while his chest constricted in a bliss so intense that it ached. _Love me. Be mine_.

She whimpered. Then her hands shoved him away.

"Don't," he breathed out, his palms still framing her face and his body trembling with the urge to taste her again, to drown in her sweetness.

"You kissed me," she said breathlessly, all the while staring accusingly at him, her lovely mouth downturned and her cheeks red.

His arms fell against his sides. Why did she have to say it like that? Like it was something horrible. "I..." _I love you_.

She cursed; her elbow dug into his side as she turned and rushed away, leaving him standing there.

Chapter 3

At the noise of the blender, Callie wedged her arm under a pillow, rolled on her back and pressed the pillow against her ears as if it would hush the racket. She wasn't at home, she knew that, but where was she? The events of previous night flashed before her, her eyes shot open and she sprung up into a sitting position, the thick blanket pooling around her waist. "He kissed me!"

The blender stopped and Rose said, "You said that already." Then the racket resumed again.

Callie blinked, then rubbed her eyes. "He kissed me." This time her voice was soft and barely audible. "Why?" Why would he have kissed her? She fell backward on the sofa again, wrapped herself around the pillow and closed her eyes. And why didn't Rose find the fact that Blade kissed her shocking?

The blender stopped again and in the silence Callie could hear the small sounds that told her Rose had taken the plastic pitcher and was doing something with glasses. The sound of steps nearing and the plop of a bum onto the coffee table.

Callie opened one eye.

Rose sat on the low wooden table, smiling at her. "Here." She pushed one of the two glasses of pinkish goo and a spoon into her hand.

Callie's fingers automatically wrapped around the cold glass. She opened her other eye and sat up. "What is this?"

"I made ice cream."

"You did?" Callie's face lit up as her gaze again focused on the goo inside a glass. "This is ice cream? For breakfast?"

"Anytime is the right time for ice cream, even for breakfast. And it's not really ice cream. Just half-frozen bananas and strawberries and a spoonful of honey blended together. It's even better than ice cream. Try it."

Callie did. "This is yummy."

"Yeah." Rose started to eat from her glass.

"He kissed me," Callie said between spoonfuls.

"Yes, he kissed you."

"He kissed me," Callie repeated.

"Yes, he did." Rose nodded.

"You don't understand." Callie's brows furrowed. She didn't understand it, either. He had kissed her and it was all she could think about.

"Yes, I do. He kissed you. And that freaked you out. I get it. I get it." With the spoon Rose scooped pink cream out and put it in her mouth.

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do. I got it the first time you told me yesterday," Rose said. "The thing that I don't get is why we had to rush out of the club and why you had to shut off your phone." She shook her head. "He's probably worrying sick about you, right now."

"I sent him a message."

"Which will probably make him worry more, not less."

"I'm pouring my soul out to you here and you are on his side."

"You whiner, of course I'm on your side. I made you ice cream, didn't I?" Rose put another spoon of goo into her mouth.

A knocking came from the balcony door. They both looked at it and behind the curtain they could see a tall man with a mess of blond hair.

"It's Camden." Rose stood up and opened the door to him. "How many times have I told you to use the front door?"

"Don't nag." Camden closed the balcony door behind him them threw himself onto the sofa beside Callie. "I thought I heard a blender. Can I have one too, please?"

"You are awfully perky in the morning." Callie eyed the blond strands that stuck out in all directions, the worn out grey shirt and pink pyjama bottoms with yellow chocobos, which she and Rose had bought him for his birthday because he was a fan of animals and of Final Fantasy games.

"It's already noon," Camden said.

"And you are still in your pyjamas," Callie commented.

"He wears those things all the time." Rose took a bag from the freezer and dumped half its contents into the blender. "You want more, too?"

Callie looked at the glass that contained only one or two more bites of the mixed fruit. "Yes, please."

Rose turned on the blender while Callie went to brush her teeth and splash water on her face. She was still sleepy, even though she had gone to sleep around two in the morning and it was just past noon. Why was it that the longer she slept, the sleepier she was?

She returned to the sofa and joined Camden. Rose had already finished preparing the new batch of 'ice cream' for them and was now sitting on the table, chatting with Camden.

"It's good, isn't it?" Camden leaned backward on the sofa. "I gave her the recipe."

"It's good." Callie nodded.

"Better than Blade's kiss?" Camden grinned at Callie.

Callie narrowed her eyes.

"He kissed her," Rose said in a scandalized voice.

"Don't you dare make fun of it!" Callie lifted her finger in warning. This was serious.

"It was just a kiss, Callie, from a boy you treat like a little brother," Camden said.

Yes, she did treat Blade as a younger sibling, but... the kiss that they had shared, there was nothing brotherly about it. The touch of his mouth had made her legs wobbly, sped up her heart and made her body all tingly. And that was a problem. A big, big problem. She buried her face in her hands.

"Callie." Camden touched Callie's shoulder.

Callie peeked between her fingers. The last time she had been kissed was ages ago. Maybe that was the reason Blade's kiss had made her all hot and bothered.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Callie shifted closer.

"Callie?" Camden shifted away.

Callie cupped his cheeks.

"What are you trying to do?" Something similar to panic flashed across Camden's face.

Callie leaned over the blond and pressed her lips against Camden's. She didn't know what she had expected, but she hoped for a little buzz of electricity, for a small tingle, for anything. What she got was the feeling she had given her grandmother an affectionate peck. Ew.

Camden gently pushed her away, his brows pinched. "What was that about?"

Rose chuckled. "You should see your face."

"Nothing." Callie sighed and sat up. There was a pillow beside her. She took it and curled herself around it.

Camden glared at Rose then his eyes found Callie. "Callie?"

"There was nothing brotherly about Blade's kiss. But yours was."

"Of course it was, you are like family to me," Camden said.

"But he _is_ my family." Callie leaned her chin on the pillow.

"You two are not related. Or, at least, that's what you told us," Rose said.

No, they were not related. "Why did he kiss me?" Callie asked.

"Probably for the same reason he's watching over you like a hawk and is always there to take you home," Camden said.

"And that would be?" Callie asked.

"Yes, Camden, share." Rose leaned closer, a grin playing on her lips.

"He likes you, what else?" Camden said.

"Of course he likes me." Blade and she were like family and they loved each other.

"She's clueless, isn't she?" Rose rolled her eyes, then pushed her finger into her glass. She slid it along the inside of the glass to gather as much leftover 'ice cream' as she could and then licked her finger.

Camden shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder if you are really twenty-five like it says on your ID."

"Hey, looking younger than my age is a good thing." A crease cut into Callie's forehead.

"You are horrible." Rose playfully slapped Callie's shoulder.

"Blade really kept you sheltered, didn't he?" Camden said. "Hey." He focused on Rose. "Has she ever told you that she's only had one boyfriend and even that one was chased away by Blade?"

"He didn't chase him away, and he didn't keep me sheltered."

"Come on, Callie, remember how rude he was to me when we first started hanging out and how many times he followed us? One time he even sent the cops after us."

"He was young."

"He was fifteen, old enough to know what he was doing." Camden lay down on the sofa using his arms as a pillow.

"He hates to be alone at night." That was why he often stumbled into her bed. He had usually had a teddy bear in his arms when he was younger, it was so cute. But, when he was still making those nightly visits at fourteen years old, she had to put a stop to it. He still hated to be alone in the house, though, that was the reason he picked her up whenever she went out drinking with her friends. Callie pinched her earlobe between her fingers. But then why did he usually leave afterwards?

"Really? He told you that and you believed him?" Rose's gaze darted between Callie and Camden.

"It's true." Her voice wavered, even though she had never doubted Blade before. He had nightmares as a child, and his screams were what had brought her to his side. Blade's screams and nightmares, and Jack's anguish, were also what had changed her feelings for them. At the beginning, when she became part of the Waldwell household, she felt resentment for them, for the fact that they had each other and a home while she had lost everything and had nothing. She had taken Jack's offer to move in because she felt he owed her and because she had no choice, but... They had helped her overcome her loss and with Blade; Jack liked to say it was like they were healing one another.

She didn't tell that to Rose and Camden and she ignored their teasing about her naïveté, which continued all day long and didn't stop even the next day. But she didn't mind it that much. She was naïve about some things, she was aware of that, but not where Blade was concerned, or so she believed.

She peeked at Blade over a glass display filled with a variety of cakes; he sat behind a dark-brown table in the corner of the establishment, just beside the door that led into the back of the shop.

He had come in five minutes ago, just fifty minutes before the end of her shift, slipped onto the upholstered light blue bench and set the two helmets he carried and his black biker jacket beside him. He ordered two coffees, one latte, for him, and one decaf with milk, the kind she drank. He was waiting for her and he looked angry. It was a good enough reason to try to sneak through the back door, but even if she had done that, he would have ambushed her at home.

Their eyes met and she managed to give him a weak smile, while she felt a flush creeping into her cheeks.

He didn't smile back.

"There's no rush, why don't you go and have coffee with him?" Rose passed her, a tray of empty cups, glasses and plates in her hands.

"I don't want to."

"The more you dilly-dally..." Rose threw over her shoulder as she walked past the glass display of ice cream and put her burden on the counter against the wall that held the double sink.

Callie grimaced. She was the older one, but why did it feel as if she were about to be lectured by a strict parent? It was not fair. "Woman-up, Callie," she said to herself and straightened. It was just Blade.

She groaned. It was _just_ Blade, yeah. She dragged herself past the long counter that looked over the large rectangular seating area, blue and dark brown booths against the beige and blue-striped walls and round tables with upholstered chairs scattered in the middle. The cup of decaf was waiting on the side of the table opposite Blade, but Callie lowered herself onto the chair next to him. "Hey." She pulled the cup closer, wrapped both hands around it and took a sip.

"Your phone is off." Blade's voice was cold and sharp.

"Yes, it is." She took another sip of the lukewarm liquid, her eyes downcast.

"Is it broken?"

"No." Her fingers played with the handle of the white porcelain cup. "You didn't have to come to pick me up." She should have kept her monthly working schedule more private, rather than hanging it on the refrigerator. But usually she liked when Blade picked her up, which was almost daily, because then she didn't have to take the bus.

"Did your battery run down?"

"No, I turned it off."

"Why?"

She sighed and lifted her head. "Because."

"Because what?"

Callie closed her eyes for a moment. This was awkward and she had never felt awkward in Blade's presence before; well, except that time when he had found her in a compromising position with her boyfriend. Well, and that time when he had burst into the club with a police officer on his heels, accusing Camden of kidnapping his younger sister, when she wasn't younger than him nor his sister, the first time she went clubbing with Camden seven years ago. Her grey eyes found his brown ones. "Because I knew you would call and text me." And insist that she come home and she wasn't ready for that. She wasn't ready for that even now, but she had no choice, not when, knowing him, he would have staked out the shop until she caved in. He was so stubborn.

Something flashed in his eyes, something akin to hurt, but it disappeared so fast that she thought she had imagined it. "I see."

She expected he would say more, but he didn't, which was weird. After she finished her coffee in silence, she went through the ritual that accompanied the end of her shift: she printed a total from the till and logged out, counted the money, compared her count to the printout and carried the envelope of money to the manager's office. Then she went to change from the blue staff T-shirt and black pants into her clothes. When she opened the back door, Blade was already waiting for her, sitting on his bike. He offered her a helmet. She took it, put it on and sat behind him.

After they arrived home, he didn't push the bike into the garage like he usually did, but followed close behind her as she went inside.

She pushed open the door and stepped into the anteroom that continued into a hallway.

"Callie." His hand descended on her shoulder just as she took off her shoes and slipped her feet into her slippers.

He sounded so serious and when she glanced at him, she could see his brows pinched together and his hand buried in the hair at his nape of his neck. She had an inkling of what this was about and she couldn't decide if she wanted to talk about the kiss or not. "Yes?"

"About the \--"

The doors of the living room burst open. "Here you are! Finally." A tall brunet with a beard and dark skin that told of a love of the outdoors stood before them, his arms outstretched.

"Jack." Callie dashed to him and wrapped her arms around his middle while Jack engulfed her in a bear hug. He smelled like spices and rain and all the exotic places he had visited in his hunt for the perfect picture. He was a photographer, specializing in landscapes, and his pictures often ended up in National Geographic and similar magazines.

A last squeeze before Jack moved backwards, his hands holding hers and his eyes, the same dark brown as Blade's, measured her. "Hello, pumpkin. Looking wonderful, as always." He pulled her back into the hug and whispered in her ear, "Our beautiful pumpkin."

She giggled.

Blade pushed his way past them and stormed down the hallway and up the stairs.

"Blade, shoes," Callie yelled behind him, shaking her head at the loud slam of the door that shook the walls of the house.

"My wayward son is still being a nuisance, I see." Jack released her, hooked his arm with hers and guided her into the living room. "I thought that he would have grown out of his teenage rebellion phase already."

"I don't know what's wrong with him." Callie sat on the red L-shaped couch, tucking her legs underneath her.

"I brought souvenirs." Jack took a paper bag from the first of the low cabinets set against the wall in the front of the room. He gave it to her and joined her on the couch.

"Ooh, a present." She tore through the paper and pulled out a length of fabric in blue tones, silver threads running through it in an intricate pattern.

"It's a sari," Jack told her. "Do you remember when he started acting like that?"

"Huh?" Callie caressed the light silken fabric that spread over her knees. It was lovely.

"Blade. He has grown up so fast." He gave her a small smile. "I would say that for you, too, but you have always been so mature."

"Are you sure?" She mirrored his smile. "My friends say that I'm naïve."

"You can be naïve and mature, one doesn't exclude the other," Jack said. "And you are mature, just remember how many times you have offered me your shoulder while I bawled like a baby? So embarrassing." His smile widened as he put his arm across the back of the couch and leaned closer to her. "But it was good, too. Or more like bitter-sweet, waking up with both of my children cuddling up against me."

Both of my children, yeah, Jack was like that. Him and his big heart. Callie put her hand over his.

"You are my child, you know that, even if I never officially adopted you." A grin stretched his mouth. "But with that comes an obligation."

"Yes?"

"I want grandchildren. When can I expect some grandchildren? You are already twenty-five, pumpkin, you can't wait much longer, while your biological clock is going tick-tock, tick-tock."

Callie stared at him. Was he serious?

"I'm joking. But pumpkin, when are you going to bring home a boy for me to meet?" His eyes searched her face. "There is a boy, right? A great girl like you has to have one. You probably have to beat them off with a stick."

"There's no boy."

"Are you certain?"

She nodded.

"Not even one?"

She shook her head.

"There's nobody that you like?"

Blade's face flashed before her eyes and she could feel her face warming up. What was that about?

"Oh, so there is one?"

She shook her head in a 'no.' There was no way she could share with Jack what Blade had done and how that made her feel -- how did that make her feel? -- when she didn't even know what that kiss meant.

Chapter 4

Blade silently opened the door and gazed into the dark room, lit only by the tender light of the full moon, at the bundle lying on the bed. He leaned on the door-jamb, trying to decide between walking in and walking away when a soft, sleepy voice asked, "Blade?"

He had never been able to sneak up on her in her sleep, his presence always managed to rouse her, as if she had some kind of Blade-radar. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

"A nightmare?"

"Yes," he said, even though the nightmares that plagued his mind wouldn't fit into her definition of 'nightmare.' But the fear of losing her was real and much more frightening than the dark dreams that had hauled him out of sleep when he was a child. He padded closer, hoping to see her hand lifting up the blanket in invitation like she did when they were younger. It has been so long since she had done that, nowadays she turned him away, telling him he wasn't a child anymore. Duh, with the way she was treating him otherwise, one would think she had overlooked that fact too many times.

She rolled on her back, her arm over her eyes.

He knew that she was searching for words to turn him away. "Please." He rested first his left knee on the bed then his right. "Please."

"You are too old," she mumbled.

"I know." He lifted the blue cover, ready to crawl beside her. "Please."

"No." She turned on her side, grabbed the folds of blanket and dragged it closer while she kicked outward.

His eyes widened and with a small yelp he slid off the bed to land with a loud plop on the thick white rug.

"Are you okay?" Callie scrambled to the edge of the bed.

"No." Sprawled on the ground he rubbed the top of his head, pretending he had hit it.

"You are such a faker."

"Please." He sat up.

A rustle came from down the hall and through the gap under the door a beam of light forced its way into the room.

"It's Jack," Callie whispered. "Quick." She moved backwards and lifted her bedcovers.

Blade's jaw clenched, even though he was getting what he wanted, but the meaning behind the gesture... She was afraid of Jack finding them together! He climbed onto the bed and dove under the covers anyway.

The sound of a knock and the door opened.

"Callie?" Jack said.

"Yeah?"

"I heard something. Is everything all right?"

Blade wrapped himself around her warm softness. He rested his cheek against her side and buried his nose into the cotton of her long T-shirt. Having her so close was a torture and bliss.

"I turned over in my sleep and knocked the wall with my elbow. I'm sorry. I didn't wake you up, did I?" Callie wiggled her arm between her and Blade.

"No. I couldn't sleep, it's the jet lag," Jack said. "Well, goodnight then."

"Goodnight."

A small sound of the door closing, then muffled footsteps as Jack walked down the corridor.

"You are suffocating me," she hissed to Blade.

Blade released her, pushed himself up so that his head rested beside her on the pillow, while his hand searched for hers. He laced his fingers with hers.

"You should leave."

"He might hear me." In the dark he tried to read her face, but her hair was in the way. He shifted closer until their noses touched.

She moved away. "Blade, please."

"What?"

She swallowed, he could see her throat moving.

With his free hand he brushed the strands off her face, tucking them behind her ear. "About Saturday --"

"I don't want to talk about it." She again put some distance between them, moving to the very edge of the bed.

He had made a mistake in kissing her. It was too soon, but he refused to pretend that it hadn't happened, like she seemed to want to do, or to apologize for it. "You are going to fall, you know."

"Why did you do it?"

_Because I love you_. But was she ready to hear that? Especially now, with his father present. He hated his father sometimes, hated that Jack had claimed her when she should have been his. The paedophile. Sometimes he still had trouble believing that his father had involved himself with a teenager and brought her home as his lover a few months after Mother's death, but the fact was that his father had brought Callie, and that Blade had seen her in his father's bed with his own eyes more than once. At the time he hadn't known what that meant, but a year later everything made perfect sense. She had been used, of course, even if it was consensual. His jaw clenched and he rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He still held her hand, refusing to let her go.

"Blade?" Her fingers touched the side of his face.

He faced her, giving her a shaky smile.

"Are you still a virgin?" she asked.

"What? No. What's that got to do with it?"

She put her free hand under her head. "You might just want some experience and you don't know where to turn?"

"You are kidding me, right?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "I don't see any other explanation."

He shifted onto his side and up on his elbow. "Do you really believe I would do that? To you, of all people?" It hurt to be aware of how little she really knew him or how little she thought of him.

"I don't know." She tried weakly to shake off the grip he had on her hand.

He leaned over her, bringing their intertwined hands up, he touched her face with the back of his knuckles. She wasn't prepared to hear his 'I love you' or maybe he wasn't prepared to say it yet, not with his father's shadow looming over them, but he could say to her, "I like you. I have always liked you."

"Of course you do."

She couldn't be that dense, which meant she was in denial. He closed the distance between them and pressed his mouth against hers in a short chaste kiss. Then he tried to gauge her reaction, bracing himself for rejection which should come in a slap or at least in a yell. But she was silent, staring at him as frozen as she had been after their first kiss. "I like you," he repeated. After a few stretched tense moments of silence, he added, "Say something, please."

She sighed, turned away from him and curled into a ball. "I don't know..."

"What is it?" He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest, resting his clammy hand against her hip, dreading that she would push him away.

"I can't...." She didn't resist his hold or try to shake him off, but the stiffness of her shoulders and spine told him of her discomfort.

He loosened the hold he had on her and ran his hand over her shoulder in circular movements. "I won't do anything that you don't want to, I promise. I won't even kiss you anymore, if that's what you wish." And he meant it, even though he couldn't give up on her, but he would take it one step at a time, tackling his obstacles with determination, counting on his stubbornness to help him conquer her resistance.

Chapter 5

Callie observed the boy who slept beside her, facing her, with his arm pillowing his head. Her eyes slid over his shoulder down his arm, half-hidden under the blanket and whose weight she could feel on her stomach, then up again to his face, where she stared at his mouth. _He had kissed her_.

She glided her finger along her lips. She could still feel his touch.

She frowned at what she was doing and curled her hand into a fist while her gaze slipped upwards and stopped at his eyelids, then at the curve of his eyelashes. She had never noticed how long his eyelashes were. Or how angelic he looked while sleeping, especially with the light of the morning sun framing him in a soft glow. Or how soft his skin looked, despite the hint of stubble that shadowed his jaw.

If she had dared, she would have touched him and traced her finger across his forehead, down his cheek to trail over his lips. They were so pink and full, they looked more as if they belonged to a girl than a boy, but they didn't look out of place on his square face with its strong chin.

'I like you,' he had said, then kissed her and then he had repeated the words again.

She had never thought about him that way, not before the kiss he had given her in the club, but after it she couldn't stop thinking about it. He was messing with her head, and now her body became warm at his simplest touch. Last night ,when he had climbed into her bed, she had felt so hot and had probably been blushing like crazy, it was a good thing that it had been dark or she would have been so embarrassed. But she felt embarrassed even now.

He moved and she closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep, trying to keep her breath even and calm. The mattress dipped under him as he shifted, she could feel his breath on her face, and the touch of his fingertips that trailed over her temples then down her cheek.

"I know you are awake."

"Good morning." She grimaced and opened her eyes, widening them at the light that shone on his face.

"Good morning to you, too." He leaned closer as if he were about to kiss her.

Her eyelids fluttered closed and her heart sped up in dread and anticipation of his touch.

The softness of his lips brushed against her temple then the mattress dipped again and when she looked at him, he lay on his side, his arm under his head and a small smile playing on his face.

"What?" she asked, feeling warmth in her cheeks, tempted to hide it by pulling the blanket over her head. She would have repeated 'it's just Blade' to herself, but now just the thought of his name did strange things to her. Everything had changed between them and all it had taken was one kiss.

"What are you doing later?"

"Huh?"

His eyes smiled at her as his fingers grazed her forehead then slowly tiptoed over the outline of her face. "After work, what are you doing?"

_Work!_ "What's the time?" She shot up into a sitting position and bent over him to access the nightstand. She grabbed the clock.

He rolled on his back.

She put the clock down. She still had an hour and relief made her slump down, right on his chest. _Oops_. The redness that dusted her cheeks flamed up and she scattered backwards.

"Whoa." He grabbed her just as she started to slip off the bed. He drew her up and against him where she awkwardly half-lay on his upper torso while he wrapped his arms around her waist. "So, what are you doing after work?" His eyes danced in suppressed mirth.

She knew that look, it told her how amusing he found the whole situation, and she would have frowned at him, but somehow all she could do was gaze at him like she was seeing him for the first time.

"Callie. Hello?" He shook her slightly.

"Yes. After work." She furrowed her brows. "Well, nothing really."

"Do you want to join me?"

"Where?"

"I don't know, I haven't decided yet."

"Huh?"

He chuckled and pulled her down so that her head rested on his shoulder. "I want to take you out, silly, like on a date."

On a date? "Oh."

"So?" He arched his brows.

Date with Blade? That sounded great -- No, wait a minute. That was a bad idea. What would Jack say if he learned about it? He had entrusted Blade to her to take care of him, not to date him.

"Callie?"

But it was Blade. She could never refuse him anything, especially not when he gazed at her so pleadingly. But this time it wasn't about staying up late to watch telly or to make pancakes for lunch for the sixth time in a row. She had to resist him.

"Callie?" A cute pout appeared on his face.

He probably wasn't even aware of what kind of face he was doing. She had to resist. "Okay."

A wide smile stretched his mouth. "Great." His fingers started to comb through her hair. "I'll pick you up after work then." He pressed his mouth against the top of her head then took a deep breath and gently set her against his side.

She stared dazedly at him, at his sunny smile. She had never seen him looking that happy.

Another soft kiss, this time on her cheek before he sat up and swung his legs to the side.

She blinked once, twice, then pushed herself up on her elbows. "But Blade, what about Jack?" Shouldn't Blade be more interested in spending his time with his father, since who knew how long Jack would be home before he went off on his travels again?

His shoulders stiffened. "What about Jack?" he asked without turning, his voice carrying a strange undertone. He sighed before he turned, his brows slightly furrowed.

Why did he look so tortured? "You see him so rarely, while you can see me every day. Don't you want to spend some time with him?"

His forehead smoothed as he twisted sideways, leaned over her and buried his fingers in the hair behind her right ear, then raked through the brown strands. "Who said that I'm not going to spend time with him?"

"Oh."

He stood up. "At four, right?"

She nodded.

"See you then."

She watched him turn and walk through the door. A date, huh? She rolled onto her belly, hugged the pillow and pushed her face into the feathery softness. This was so strange; the two of them going on a date. So weird and definitely a bad idea.

What was she going to wear? She jumped up and rushed to her wardrobe, rifling through the folded clothes. She couldn't understand why she was making such a fuss when Blade had seen her at her worst: in ragged slacks, with drool on her chin and with a mess of hair that made her look like a dandelion. She was tempted to put on a dress and make-up, but in the end she resisted and dressed in jeans and a simple T-shirt like she always did.

At The Delight, the day was busy as always, since they served the best ice cream in the old town and their cakes were known far and wide. The shift passed by uneventfully and she would even have called it slightly boring, since she wasn't working with either Camden or Rose, but with her mind preoccupied with thoughts of Blade it was better that way. Why was she thinking about him, anyway, and why in the last hour of her shift did her hands become clammy whenever she thought of him?

Blade came to pick her up all the time. She had nothing to be nervous about. But when he pushed the glass door open and strode toward the table in the corner, like he had done so many times before, her breath hitched and her heart flipped in her chest like she was a schoolgirl and he the boy of her dreams. How cliché.

Blade slipped behind the table, his eyes found Callie and a smile appeared on his face. He waved his hand in greeting.

"Who's that?" Kris, a new part-timer, poked Callie's side.

Callie furrowed her brows. What was Blade to her?

"That's Callie's boy-toy." Rose, who had sneaked in from the back, tied the ribbons of her black apron around her waist.

"He's nice, well-toned. Is he an athlete?" Kris leaned on the glass display.

"No, just eye candy," Rose commented.

"Yes, he's very easy on the eyes." Kris nodded.

"He's my flat mate," Callie said.

"That's the whole point of eye candy." Rose slapped Kris's arms off the display then turned to Callie. "Your shift is over, shouldn't you go to him?"

"I still have five minutes."

"Not when your replacement has already arrived." Rose grabbed Callie's arms, turned her around and pushed her forward. "Go."

"Fine." Callie strode toward the back door into the hallway that led into the locker room. She closed her till then went to change, resisting the temptation to put on a dash of blush and mascara, before she joined Blade behind the table.

"Hey." Callie put her bag on the chair beside him. "Have you already ordered?"

"No." Blade took his messenger bag and slung it across his shoulder before he stood up. His hand wrapped around hers and after she took her bag he pulled her with him toward the glass display of ice cream. "What do you want?"

"No coffee?"

"No, just ice cream."

She was always for ice cream. Her eyes slid over the display. "I'll have pineapple, please."

"Just pineapple?" Rose grinned at her from the other side of the counter, wiggling her brows.

"Yes." Callie rolled her eyes.

"Bounty and Nutella, please," Blade said and then released her hand to pay, but after they took their cones and strode onto the cobbled street, his hand found hers again.

She glanced at their laced hands. This was not the first time she had felt his fingers around hers, but the gesture had never seemed so intimate before. "Where are we going?"

"To the river bank." He led her across the street full of strolling pedestrians, who were, like them, enjoying the gentle spring sun. They neared the stone wall that followed the river, which wove through the city centre, and walked alongside it until the wall lowered into stairs; the part of the staircase that ran alongside the river reminded Callie of the seats in an amphitheatre. The wide stairs descended to a cement surface with benches and patches of greenery with trees.

They had already finished their ice cream and Callie stood to the side while Blade pulled a blanket from his messenger bag and spread it across the last stair. He gestured for her to sit down. "After you, my lady."

"Why thank you, kind gentleman." Callie sat down. "So, this is it? No fancy restaurants?"

"You don't like fancy restaurants."

He was right.

"Are you hungry?" Blade crouched down and started to rummage through his bag. "Or thirsty?" He pulled out a bottle of water and offered it to her. "I have sandwiches, too."

She took it and set it aside. "I just had ice cream."

"Yes, you did." He leaned over her and his thumb brushed against the corner of her mouth. He showed her a small white drop before he brought the finger to his mouth and his tongue darted out and licked it off.

Warmth coloured her cheeks red and she averted her gaze.

He chuckled.

"It's not funny."

"You are so cute." He chuckled again and wrapped his arm around her waist drawing her against his side, his eyes lowered to her mouth and his forehead wrinkled.

"What?" The air rushed out of her lungs and it felt like she couldn't breathe, despite her not having any desire to try to escape his embrace. She loved him like a brother, but now it felt as if her love had taken a step forward and was in the middle of transforming into something that confused and scared her, but at the same time felt so right.

"I want to kiss you," he whispered in her ear and leaned his forehead against her temple. "So badly."

Her chest tightened. She wanted it, too, so much that she could almost taste it. Yes, this date thing was definitely a bad idea and something that she should have refused. But it was too late now. It had been too late even this morning. She was lost the moment he first kissed her.

"Can I?" His fingertips tiptoed up her neck.

She licked her lips. Why did he have to ask her such a stupid question?

"Can I?" he repeated in low, husky voice; she could feel the vibration of his words in the pit of her stomach.

Staring straight ahead, she swallowed and nodded.

Chapter 6

With his fingers under her chin he gently turned her face, his heart hammering in his chest. She said yes.

Her eyes fluttered close.

She was so beautiful. His mouth lowered to hers. He gave her a small peck, then another one, just caressing her lips with his, trying to convey his feelings to her, how much he cared for her and how precious she was to him. Tenderly he seduced his way inside her mouth, tasting her and slowly savouring her like she was some expensive, gourmet dish; one slow bite after another.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and she drew him closer.

His lovely, lovely Callie. Another sweep of his tongue before he ended the kiss, still holding onto her, refusing to let her go. "Hey," he whispered.

She blushed, her eyes glazed and a small, shy smile on her face.

His fingers brushed against her cheek, a wide grin playing on his lips, even though he tried to suppress it.

A small dog ran by, barking; a child trailed behind it, until a woman called its name and the dog turned toward her, the child close behind the dog.

Callie's gaze followed the dog and the child before it went back to Blade again. She gave him another shy smile, two patches of fading pink still visible on her cheeks, then shifted away from him, forcing him to release her.

Blade thought that she was going to lean on his shoulder, but she scooted backwards and rested her back against the upper stair, her gaze lost in the distance. "What is it?"

"Nothing." She gave him another one of her shy smiles.

There was something bothering her and Blade had an inkling what it was; that suspicion kept him away from questioning her further. His jaw clenched and he had to concentrate to unlock it. He wouldn't allow thoughts of relationship between Callie and his father to spoil this perfect day. He was here to win Callie's heart and to steal her away.

His shifted backwards until he sat beside her, his hand sneaked toward her until it touched hers and he laced his fingers with hers, delighting at the redness that again appeared on her cheeks. She was so cute that it was hard not to reach for her and kiss her again, so he busied himself with pulling sandwiches and an apple out of his bag.

He had made them himself, the sandwiches. He had made them in fifteen minutes and then he had to spend the next hour cleaning the mess he made. How could Callie cook and not leave the kitchen in chaos? It was some kind of sorcery, Blade was sure, sorcery he didn't seem to possess. "Later, I was thinking we could go up to the fortress and have a drink there, or if you prefer, we could take a long stroll along the riverbank and make a stop at the City Beach Cafe."

Callie opted for the stroll along the river and they spent their time walking. Blade enjoyed her quiet company and the touch of her hand against his.

In the following weeks, he managed to get more dates with her; they spent one hiking, one at the nearby lake and one at the movies. He got a few short make-out sessions, always careful not to kiss her too long, not to hold on her too long, afraid that if he did, he would scare her away. This was a marathon, not a sprint, and if he could wait nine years, he could wait a few weeks more; months or years, if he had to. He had to remind himself regularly of that, like now, when they were on their fourth date. Technically it wasn't a date, since she had joined him in the Sunday street-ball game he played with his friends on the court near his uni almost every week. That is, when the weather allowed them.

He glanced at where she sat on the bench. Their eyes met and he gave her a smile before his focus was back on the ball.

Greg, his best friend, passed him the ball and he dribbled it around a blond to move closer to the hoop. He shot and missed.

The blond, Peter, took the ball and tossed it to his team mate. Greg jumped up and intercepted the ball, which he again passed to Blade. This time Blade didn't try to shoot, but waited for Greg to get near the hoop, then passed the ball to him. Greg scored. And with that they won the match.

"One more," Peter demanded.

"No, I've had enough." Blade patted Greg's shoulder as he walked past him, then occupied himself with pulling his slightly damp T-shirt away from his body, fanning himself.

"Good game." A brunette, who until now had lingered at the edge of the court together with a group of girls, came to Blade offering him a bottle of water.

Blade passed her with a short nod, without taking the bottle, his gaze on Callie, who was chatting with the boy sitting beside her. That boy was sitting far too close to her for his taste.

"Hey, have you already done the architecture analysis for Professor Knob's class?" The brunette fell into step behind him.

"Yes, I have." What was her name? Janet, yeah. Lately he was seeing a lot of her.

"You did? That's so great. I'm halfway through," Janet said and continued to list the troubles she was having with the assignment.

Blade tuned her out, his dark gaze on the boy that shifted even closer to Callie, who was giggling at something he said. He stride quickened and when he arrived at the bench, he wrapped his fingers around the bench armrest and leaned over Callie. "Did you miss me?"

She rolled her eyes at him, reached back through the gap between the seat and the bench's back and into an open backpack to pull out a bottle of water. She gave it to him.

"Thanks." Blade's gaze slid to the boy, he narrowed his eyes at him.

The boy moved away.

Blade descended on the bench beside Callie. He lifted his head and frowned when he saw Janet standing before him looking at him expectantly. "Yes?"

"About the assignment --"

"It's not due until Thursday. Can't we talk about this in class, tomorrow?"

"Um, okay." The girl grimaced in something that would probably have looked like a smile if not for the stiffness of her mouth. Her eyes landed on Callie and she stared at her.

"Hi." Callie lifted her hand in hello.

"You are?" Janet asked.

Blade stretched his arm behind Callie's back and rested his hand on her shoulder. He drew her against his side. "My girlfriend."

"Your girlfriend?" Callie arched her eyebrows. "Since when?"

Since forever. "Since now." He bent closer to her. "Do you mind it?"

"Blade, you can't...." She sighed and pinched her earlobe between her fingers. "I don't..."

He smiled at Callie while an ache pierced his insides. Callie didn't like the idea of being his girlfriend. He cast a glance at Janet, who was still hovering in front of them, before he whispered to Callie, "Indulge me." He pressed a short chaste kiss on her lips. When he glanced up again, Janet was gone.

"Who was that?" Callie asked.

"Just a girl I have some classes with."

"She's pretty."

Blade shrugged his shoulders and took a sip of water.

"And she seems to like you."

"So?" He faced Callie, scowling. It sounded like she didn't mind it; not just that Janet liked him, but that she wouldn't mind if he liked Janet back.

"What?" she asked.

"You must be bored." He stood and went around the bench. Out of the backpack he pulled a sweater, which he put on, and hung the rucksack over his shoulder.

"What?"

"Hey, Greg!" He waved to get attention of his friend, who was now at the edge of the court, waiting for his turn to play. When Greg looked at him, Blade gestured at himself and Callie. "We are leaving now."

"We are?" Callie rose.

"Yes."

Greg nodded. "See you later."

"Sure." Blade lifted his hand then walked toward the hole in the chain link fence that framed the court. He didn't need to look around to see Callie following him, he could hear her steps behind him and if he hadn't, he would have felt her presence. They went to the parking lot where he had parked their family's old Audi, then drove home.

Callie didn't comment his behaviour and he didn't offer any explanation, so the ride passed in silence, with Bush's _The Chemicals Between Us_ playing in the background. After he drove the car into the garage and killed the engine, his hand wrapped around hers, preventing her from climbing out of the car. Despite the dates and kisses and an occasional grope, today it felt to him as if nothing had changed between them. She still continued to see him as a child; a sibling that she needed to care for, even though he was only three years younger than she.

She frowned.

But one doesn't kiss siblings, not the way he was kissing her. He drew her near and his mouth descended to hers.

She gently pushed him away. "You promised." She slipped out of his grasp, then climbed out of the car.

His eyes followed her as she rushed through the door connecting the house with the garage. With his hand resting on the passenger seat he closed his eyes for a short moment and inhaled the scent of her that lingered in the air. She avoided his attention around the house, because of his father, of course, and he hated it even more than he hated her resistance to the notion of being his girlfriend. After their first date she had asked him not to tell Jack and, out of fear that she might refuse to continue dating him if he didn't accept her request, he complied. He wanted to tell his father about them, no, he wanted her to tell him, for his father to hear that it was over between them and that she was only his.

_Only his_. He sighed and straightened, his hand going over his face.

The door opened. "Hey, listen to this." Callie waved a white paper. "Jack is gone. For a month. He could have at least waited for us or called us, so that we could say a proper goodbye."

Chapter 7

Callie stretched her hands above her head and then behind her back, almost colliding with the door of Blade's room that opened just as she passed it. "Hey!"

"Good morning to you, too." Blade gave her a smile, then in the next moment he had his arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly. "Good morning," he repeated, this time with his voice low and seductive.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

He chuckled, leaned over her and entangled her in a kiss.

She melted against him, her hand cupping his cheek.

After the kiss ended he was still smiling down at her, but this time his smile was wider and brighter.

Was this her doing? Her fingers that held his cheek brushed down his jaw.

He turned his head and pressed his mouth against her palm and then he lessened the distance between their faces and kissed her again.

She opened up to him, welcoming him, and her fingers slid into his hair. As so many times before, when he kissed her she forgot everything around her. How could he do that? It was scary how much she had started to desire his kisses, how much she had started to desire him. She didn't have a lot of experience with love or relationships; she had only dated one boy and even he had left her after only four months. She had fancied herself in love with him, but when he ended things with her because of Blade's possessiveness, she had never cried for him.

Blade's hand embraced her head and his thumb caressed her temple. "Where did you wander off to?"

"Nowhere."

His eyes searched her face then he pressed another peck at the corner of her mouth and released her. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"You aren't cooking, are you?"

"Of course, I am."

She groaned.

"I don't cook that badly."

"You cook quite well, actually," she said. "But I don't have time to clean the kitchen, I have a job to go to."

"I'm going to clean the kitchen." He took hold of her hand and pulled her with him across the hallway and down the stairs into the kitchen.

"But what about uni?"

"My first class was cancelled." He sat her down on the stool.

"Really?"

"Really." He went to the cabinet beside the stove and took a pan out if it. "Later, I'm meeting with my study group, so we will probably end around four or five. I was thinking of taking the car and then if you wait up, I can drive you to the cemetery."

To the cemetery? Was it the fifth already? "I can take the car."

"Where you are going to park?" He set the pan on the stove, poured oil into it and turned the stove on.

"I can use the parking garage."

"Stop complicating things and just let me drive you. I was planning to visit my mother's grave anyway." He moved to refrigerator.

"Okay." She watched his back as he fumbled with eggs, flinching when part of an eggshell fell down and without noticing it, he stepped on it. He disliked graveyards and he rarely accompanied her on the visits she made the fifth of every month, and when he did, he usually spent his time waiting for her in the car.

What had changed? Why did he want to go with her? She asked him that when he stopped the car at the parking area behind the cemetery.

"Why does it matter?" He climbed out of the car and from the back seat took the bag of candles.

"I'm just asking." She got out of the car and followed him through the iron door in the stone wall that framed the cemetery. When they came to the intersection, he took one candle out of the bag and gave the bag to her before he turned left. She turned right.

She had never visited his mother's grave, not even when he was a child, she only accompanied him as far as the first row of the block. Even now, if Blade had asked her to come with him, she didn't think she would be able to.

She came to her parents' grave and knelt down before it. "I still can't let it go," she said to the dark grey and black gravestone imprinted with her parents' names. "Does that mean I'm a terrible person?"

They would probably have said no, and told her that she was only human. They had been kind and broad-minded people, who had abided by the expressions: "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all," and "Don't do anything to others that you don't want done to you." They hadn't had much in the way of material things when she was growing up, but they had all had their love for one another, until ten years ago when a car accident took them away from her.

She lit two candles and put them on the marble rectangle before the gravestone. "I still miss you, so much."

She stayed there, sitting on her heels before the grave, remembering all the good times she'd had with her parents. The sparse meals that her mother's magical cooking abilities could turn into a feast, the laughter at her father's anecdotes from work, the pride that shone in their eyes whenever she brought home a good grade... She swallowed the tears that threatened to spill.

Blade's hand descended onto her shoulder.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and looked up at him over her shoulder. "Hey."

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah." She rose.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and drew her against his side, his gaze on the tombstone. The year of her parents' death was the same as his mother's, only a week apart, a month before she had become part of the Waldwell household.

"Where to now? Home?" she asked but he didn't register her voice. She poked him and repeated the question.

"Have you already eaten?"

"Yes," she said.

He turned them around, his arm still around her shoulder. "I have some work for school that I have to do, but I thought that after I finish it, that we could watch a movie or something."

"That's fine by me," she said.

They didn't end up watching a movie, or at least she didn't, despite the film that played on the telly. She was more concerned with the firm chest under her hand.

When had he become so fit? She had seen him exercising, lifting weights and doing push-ups and press-ups, and she had seen him bare-chested often, since he liked to parade around half naked, but she had never noticed it. She never even looked at him properly. And now she was here, touching him and half-lying on him on the couch in the living room. She splayed her fingers over his chest, glancing up at him.

"I didn't see that coming." He nudged her. "Did you see that? Did you see it? It was cute."

She was too busy with his sternum to notice what was happening on the screen, but she made a sound of confirmation.

He put the movie on pause and pulled her higher until she was facing him. "You are not even watching it."

"Of course I am."

"Okay," he said after a minute of pondering. "Tell me how he prevented the dragon from biting him?"

"It's an old movie, Blade, I have already seen it. The dragon didn't even try to bite him."

"Did you see its smile? Without teeth. Adorable."

"You do know that _How to Train Your Dragon_ is a cartoon for children?"

"It's not a cartoon, it's a movie and you didn't want to watch any of the thrillers that I recommended." He pressed a kiss on her nose. "Not to mention that nowadays they are doing children's movies so that they are fun for grown-ups, too."

"You are such a child," she teased him.

"Would a child kiss you like that?" He cupped her cheeks and drew her in for a kiss. A kiss that left her breathless, disoriented and slightly dizzy.

"Would a child kiss you like this?" he repeated in a voice that told Callie that he was having trouble breathing, too.

Callie stared at him. Would it be lame to ask for another kiss?

"Don't look at me like that, please?" He combed brown strands away from her face.

"How am I looking you?" With her fingers splayed on his chest, she lowered herself until her shoulders touched the back of her hands.

He bit his lip.

She wanted to growl, _just kiss me again already_ , but instead she pressed her mouth against his.

He buried his fingers in her hair and gave her a kiss like the one before, but this time when the kiss ended, he entangled her in another one and then another one.

He rolled her around, one of his hands in her hair, the other one at her side, fingers caressing the side of her breast.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs spread to nestle his hips between them. She didn't know anymore when one kiss ended and the next one began, but as long as he kept his mouth against her, it didn't matter. And the friction that his body was making as he rocked against her... It was like she was caught in a storm of raw pleasure, where everyone of his caress made her twirl in joyful delight.

His lips moved away from hers.

"No, I..." She followed them out of desire for more, lifting her hips to rub herself against him.

He hissed and froze above her, his chest heaving.

"No, no," she whimpered and tightened the grip of her arms. "Don't stop."

"Shit, Callie." His breath was hot on the side of her face. "If we keep going I won't be able to stop later on."

But she didn't want him to stop. She wanted to feel his weight on her, feel his caress and feel everything he had to offer.

His fingers caressed her face and the brown eyes that gazed down at her were full of affection. Was that meant for her? "Do you even know what you are doing to me?"

He started to get off of her, but she held onto him tightly.

"Callie?"

She hid her blushing face at his shoulder and mumbled, "It was you who kissed me first."

"So I should take responsibility, eh?"

She nodded.

He stroked her hair. "What do you want me to do?"

"Kiss me."

He wiggled his finger under her chin and forced her to lift her head, then he kissed her.

It was another one of those kisses that made her head spin, but then when it ended he didn't give her another one, but gently gazed at her as if waiting for her to give him another request.

"Another one."

He fulfilled her wish.

"Another one."

His mouth pressed against hers again.

"Another ten of them."

This time he chuckled before he leaned over her and fulfilled her request. When he moved his mouth off hers, his face was flushed like hers and his eyes, half-closed, were unfocused. He leaned over her again, but this time his mouth didn't descend on hers, but on her cheeks. He trailed small kisses along her jaw and neck.

She arched under his touch and moaned as his hardness slid against her in such an antagonizing caress. The already burning fire in the pit of her stomach rose up and licked her inside in a fervid bliss, which made her brace her feet against the surface of the couch and push herself harder against him.

"Callie," he breathed out her name in a sort of hiss, his pupils wide; he pressed down against her faster and harder.

She stared up at him, charmed by the way his mouth released puffs of air, the way his brown eyes shone down on her, as if she were the centre of his universe, as if she were all he ever wanted, all he ever needed.

Another delicious slide and he froze above her.

She groaned in frustration at the absence of movement.

His mouth lowered on hers, his hips resumed their roll and his hands sneaked under her shirt, caressing her skin until everything became too much and small trembles shook her body.

Chapter 8

"Something good must have happened," Greg commented as he and Blade walked down the street toward the café two buildings away.

"It did," Blade answered, but refused to elaborate until they were seated behind the table set outside. He leaned his arm on the low fence that divided the tables from the rest of the sidewalk.

"Now, share it already," Greg demanded.

"It's nothing special." Blade grinned.

Greg studied his face. "Says the man who can't seem to stop grinning -- and you rarely smile."

Blade shrugged.

"I would say you got laid, but you wouldn't be looking as happy as you do over something as mundane as sex."

"I didn't get laid, but I did something very close to it." Blade's grin widened.

"How close?"

"It's not important how close."

"Than what is?"

"Who with."

Greg's eyes widened. "Don't tell me?"

If Blade's smile could have gotten any bigger, it would have.

"Are you two an item now?"

Blade's smile lost a fragment of its radiance. "I hope so."

"Just be careful, okay? And don't get your hopes up too high."

Blade's grin lost another level of its radiance. It wasn't Greg's fault, though. The brunet, who had been his friend since kindergarten, was the only one who knew about his love for Callie and about her relationship with his father. Greg liked Callie, but he had made it known that he was against Blade pursuing her, since he thought that Blade would only get hurt in the end. When over the years Blade had refused to let go of his obsession with her, Greg had started to support his quest, but not without words of caution at every turn. "Could you be a little more encouraging, please?"

The waiter came and they ordered two coffees.

"Callie is a swell girl and I love her to death, but just because she's with you now doesn't mean she's ended things with your father."

"You know her; you know that she doesn't have a manipulating bone in her," Blade said.

"No, she doesn't, but she hates confrontations and avoids conflicts. She might be afraid to --"

"Stop it. Just stop it." Blade rubbed his forehead and sighed. "You have managed to suck all the joy out of me and we haven't even got our coffee yet."

Greg patted him on his shoulder. "It's a talent that I have."

"Yeah, yeah." Blade rolled his eyes, then frowned. Greg was right. He had thought that by now he could call them a couple, since Callie didn't have it in her to have two lovers at the same time. She might have cheated on his father once, but that was because that boy took advantage of her. At the first appropriate moment, he would have a word with her.

But he forgot all about that at the sight of her blushed cheeks and the shy tilt of her head that greeted him when he parked his bike behind the café in which she worked. She was just too adorable.

He took off his helmet and wrapped his hand around her wrist before she could reach for her helmet secured on the seat behind. He pulled her against his side, curled his free hand around her neck and entangled her in a kiss. She tasted sweet and fresh and so like... Callie. His fingers pressed her closer and he deepened the kiss. He let her go only when the need for air forced them apart.

"Not here," she said breathlessly and shoved his hands away. Redness now covered not only her cheeks, but her neck too.

He hooked his arm around her waist, startling her, and hauled her close for a simple peck, then released her before she could push him away. He put his helmet back on and waited until she did the same and climbed on the bike behind him. When her arms wrapped around his waist he drove off. He liked the way she clung to him and the way he could feel her warmth against his back. Unfortunately for him, the drive passed too quickly and her warmth disappeared as soon as he parked the bike in the garage. He followed her inside, where he found her in the kitchen. She was starting their dinner and he wound his arms around her from behind, trying to enjoy her scent and the feel of her, but she kicked him away.

"I just want to cuddle," he complained.

"Can't you wait until after dinner?"

"No." He tried to pull her into an embrace again, but he was shoved away again.

"Later," she tossed over her shoulder, her focus on the food she was preparing.

He dragged himself to the table and slumped down, looking forward to the end of the dinner. But then, when dinner was over and the dishes cleaned and stored away, she dumped him for plants.

He sulked on the couch while she walked from plant to plant, cooing to them, watering them and spraying their leaves.

"Stop being such a baby." She glanced at him.

He crossed his arms, lifted his chin and averted his gaze, half-jokingly and half- seriously. It wasn't fair that she gave those green things the attention that he craved for himself. The feeling was childish and irritating, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted to spend every available second with her in his arms. Was that so wrong?

"Stop pouting."

"I'm not pouting. Men don't pout."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"So childish."

He scowled at her, at the cheeky smile she wore.

"What?" She walked toward him, her hands hidden behind her back.

"What?"

She lessened the distance between them in two steps, then she swung her right hand forward, holding a spray bottle as if she were holding a gun.

"You wouldn't dare!" He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Oh, yes, I would." The cheeky smile on her face widened. She pressed the handle and a spray of water hit his face.

He jumped up, the water dripping down his nose, and reached out for her, but she, yelping, wheeled away from him and ran behind the couch.

With his sleeve he wiped the water off his face. "Callie," he sang as he crooked his finger for her to come closer.

She shook her head.

He strode around the couch, but she kept the same distance between them. "Callie."

She shook her head again and lifted the spray bottle.

"Oh, no, you don't." He pounced across the couch and managed to grab the edge of her shirt.

She cried out, the water sprayed the top of his head, it slid down his hair and wetted his shirt, while she tried to scramble backwards.

The fabric started to slip out of his grasp, he grabbed her shirt more firmly and pulled. She tumbled down, right into his arms, and he rolled her around and trapped her with his body. "I got you now."

"Yes, you got me now." She smiled up at him.

He wished that were true. His fingers slid into her hair, he brushed it away and he leaned over her, staring at her, not able to take his eyes off her even if he had wanted to. She was everything that he ever wanted.

Small drops trickled down his face and fell onto hers. She giggled and her hand moved to her face, but he caught it and pulled it up above her head.

"Blade?"

He pressed his mouth against the drop, licking it. He licked the next wet spot nearby, too, and then another one. His licks transformed into small kisses and nibbles as his mouth glided over her cheeks, her jaw, her neck.

She arched beneath him, her free hand was warm on the back of his neck as she drew him closer.

Just yesterday, after she had dozed off on the couch and he carried her to her bed, he had promised himself he wouldn't go beyond kissing her, not until she ended things with his father. But here he was, at it again, with his hand under her shirt, sneaking up over her ribs, his mouth sucking on the skin of her neck, and his legs wedged between hers. He released the hand that he held above her head and rolled them sideways so that they lay on their sides.

She nuzzled against him, her mouth hot against his collarbone, and her hands stroked his chest.

He gritted his teeth as he restrained the desire to pounce on her. He put his hands over hers and pressed his lips against the top of her head.

She looked up at him, her grey eyes shining in the artificial light.

He took a couple deep breaths, then reached past her for the remote control that lay on the wooden coffee table and turned on the telly. He cleared his throat. "What do you want to watch?"

"Huh?"

He turned her around, so that she had her back against his chest, and shifted his legs to hide the bulge inside his pants. He gave her the remote. "What do you want to watch? Is there anything interesting on?"

"I don't know." She moved in his arms as if she was trying to face him.

He tightened his hold on her.

"Blade?"

"I noticed that the fridge is almost empty."

"What?"

"We should go grocery shopping tomorrow."

"Shopping? Yes, I guess, we should. And buy more than we did the last time, because somebody refused to use a trolley."

He hummed in agreement, even though he preferred a basket since with it in one hand he could hold Callie's hand with the other as they strolled down the aisles. He loved those trips to the store; actually he loved anytime they hung out, especially now when he could show his affection openly. As long as his father wasn't around, that is.

He silently swore and buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent. Why did his father always pop up? He needed to have this thing among them resolved as soon as possible, because he didn't know how long he was going to be able to hold onto his self-control where Callie was concerned.

He fell into more temptation the next evening, from which he grumpily walked away, but the evenings that followed were the same and as the week rolled out it was harder and harder to resist her.

Like today...

His fingers slid over the curve of her hip. Since he was the one who had sneaked into her bed, this time it was his fault -- but it was always his fault; he was the one who initiated all of their snuggles and make-out sessions. In his defence, he could claim that he had never expected her to wrap her arms around his neck, refusing to let go, but it wasn't the first time she had done that.

He loved how she shyly hid her face while her arms tightly held him and he wished that the moonlight pouring through the window was strong enough for him to see every little detail when his finger under her chin forced her to lift her eyes to his. He loved her, he needed her in his life almost desperately, with his want for her bordering on obsession; he was very well aware of that. But what he hadn't known until now was how temptation could be so strong and intense that he could feel it as a deep ache in his chest.

Chapter 9

"Do you think that Camden is interested in Kris?" Rose put a scoop of ice cream into a small glass bowl, one of four she had on a tray.

"I don't think so. Why?" Callie glanced at her friend then focused back on putting the dirty glasses into the dishwasher. It was Tuesday afternoon and she had the rare pleasure of working a shift with her three favourite co-workers.

"He has been staring at her again."

"Really?" Callie turned around and her eyes found Camden, who stood by the cashier. She followed his gaze and she saw that Rose was right: his eyes had been trailing the blonde's progress toward the counter. "Again?"

"Haven't you noticed?" Another scoop of ice cream dropped into the glass bowl. "Oh, she's coming."

"No." Callie returned to putting the glasses into the dishwasher, glad that for once Rose had found something else to focus on. Lately, Rose had been grilling her too much about her relationship with Blade, which wouldn't be that bad, since Rose was one of her closest friends, but the girl had insisted on learning about every small detail. She was especially interested in the juicier parts of the relationship.

"You are so clueless."

"Who's clueless?" With the tray under her arm, Kris shoved her way past Callie and Rose.

"Callie, who else?" Rose picked up the tray. "Move out of the way," she ordered Kris, even though there was enough space to pass her on her way to the ice cream maker, which stood near the coffee station.

Two hours later, Rose, with disappointment written all over her face, told her that she had asked Camden what was going on. "He said that she only reminds him of his sister. It's a shame, really." She pouted. "There's nothing juicy going on around here, not even with you and Blade. Or is there?"

"No."

"Then why are you blushing?"

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"I'm not." Callie turned her back to her, pretending to be busy with rinsing the remains of cakes from the plates in the sink.

"So, how far have you gone?"

"It's weird how interested you are in my sex life when you claim to be asexual."

"I never said I was asexual. What I said was that I have never met a guy who would attract me. That's different than not being interested in sex. I'm very interested in sex, as you might have noticed. Anyway..." Rose closed the distance between them and bumped her hip against Callie's. "How is it going? Are you to already past the kissing and touching?"

"Stop asking me that."

"Are you?"

"No." Callie fixed her gaze on the bottom of the sink.

"Oh, Callie." Rose hooked her arm around Callie's waist and leaned her head on Callie's shoulder. "You have to do something about it."

And what was she supposed to do? She sighed. "Why?"

"Because you want to, don't you?"

With hands wet and cold from the water, she covered her cheeks. She wanted to sleep with Blade, yes, badly. And it frustrated her that Blade could turn her body into a wild mess of desire and want, then step away like he wasn't affected by what they were doing at all. She often refused to allow him to walk away, but when his touch returned it felt detached and distant. If not for the brown eyes that still gazed at her with affection and love, she would have thought that he didn't care for her at all.

"You want it, right?" Rose repeated the question.

Yes, but she shouldn't. "Maybe it's better this way. Maybe we should stop with this --" What was this? The kissing and the cuddling and the warmth that seemed to envelope her every time that he was around.

"You don't mean it?"

"I don't know," Callie said. "I still don't know how I am going to explain this to Jack. He's probably going to throw me out."

"Jack is probably going to be glad for you two."

"He entrusted Blade to my care and I have seduced his little boy." It was so easy to picture the look of disappointment in Jack's eyes, the same one he had bestowed on her the time she told him that Blade had caught her in _in flagrante_ with her boyfriend, thinking that if she didn't, Blade would. At that time he had only asked her not to bring her boyfriend into the house anymore, though.

"Don't be stupid." Rose slapped her over her shoulder. "Like you even know how to seduce men. And it's not like Blade is an innocent little boy. He's a grown man who pounced on you. If anybody is going to be thrown out, it's probably going to be Blade for daring to lay his hands on our sweet little innocent Callie."

Callie froze. To cause a rift between a father and son... "Don't say things like that, not even as a joke."

"Don't take everything so seriously." Rose patted her shoulder. "I don't know Jack, except for what you have told me about him, but what I know is that you and Blade are both adults and that Jack loves you both. I doubt that he would have any objections. You are making such a big deal out of nothing."

Callie faced Rose. "You think?"

"Yeah."

"It's just... you know."

"You worry too much."

"I might." Maybe, just a little bit.

"So?" Rose said.

"So?"

"What are you going to do about Blade?"

Callie could feel the redness creeping up into her cheeks. "Nothing." From the corner of her eye she could see Camden waving to them from the tables littered with dirty glasses and plates. "Let's go help Camden."

"Don't try to change the subject." Rose hooked her arm around Callie's.

"I'm not." Callie sighed. "And what do you think I'm going to do? Try out a magazine article on five ways of getting him into bed?" Like she could do that and even if she could, would she?

"Not that, exactly, but I have an idea or two."

Rose's ideas turned out to be suggestions to show a lot of skin, to touch him a lot, wiggle her hips and flutter her eyelids. Like she could do that.

Actually she did try it, just as an experiment, of course.

Instead of her customary pyjamas she put on a T-shirt and boxers. When Blade eyed her in the living room, where they were watching a show before going to sleep, she told him, it was his fault. "It's hot with you in my bed."

He spit out the mouthful of popcorn he had just shoved in his mouth a moment earlier. Pieces landed on the table, while he continued to cough and laugh at the same time.

She blushed, something that lately had become a regular occurrence. "I didn't mean it like that." She slapped his back as he tried to catch his breath. "It's just that having you in the same bed is like lying beside a furnace." And that even without them doing anything.

He leaned over his knees, small coughs still coming out of his throat while his shoulders shook.

"Stop laughing and you might be able to breathe." She slapped his back hard, then shifted deeper into the softness of the couch and crossed her arms.

"I can't help it." He took a few deep breaths, then cleared his throat. "Much better." He straightened and faced her. "So...?"

She pinched her lips at the grin on his face, knowing fully well what will follow.

"What did you say? It's hot with me in your bed?"

The line of her mouth thinned. Here she was trying to seduce him and he was making fun of her. Rose was right, there was no way she was capable of seducing anybody, not even with all the tips and suggestions the red-haired girl had given her. Probably not even if Rose wrote her a point by point tutorial. She stood up. "I'm going to sleep."

"Already?" He turned off the telly and rose. "Okay."

"Alone." She strode onto the hallway.

"Am I too hot for you?"

Over her shoulder she gave him an ugly look.

"Don't be like that." He trotted after her.

She climbed up the stairs.

"Honey bunny, don't be angry." He caught her at the top of the stairs. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her against his chest.

"I'm not angry. Unless you call me 'honey bunny' again." She stared ahead at the shadow cast on the wall. Through the window at the end of the hallway she could see part of a grey sky tinted with dark red visible through the branches of the treetop.

"Are you sure?" He slightly lifted her then lowered her so that her feet rested on his. He stepped forward.

"Yes."

"Good." He directed them toward her room.

"You are not sleeping in my bed tonight."

"Why?" He sneaked his fingers under her shirt. "When you have already dressed so appropriately for my hotness."

She scowled and slapped his hands away, but in the next moment they were on her again.

"Don't be like that." He tightened the hold of his arms and leaned his chin on her shoulder.

"You are making fun of me."

"But I'm only doing it out of love."

What was that supposed to mean? "I don't like it." She stared at the door, not trying to leave the embrace of his arms anymore.

His mouth touched the shell of her ear. "I like teasing you." His tongue darted out and trailed the curve of her ear. "There's something so cute in the way you scowl. I just want to lick it."

"Stop doing that."

He shifted her around so that she faced him. "Doing what?"

Her brows furrowed, she stared at his chest. "Making fun of me. And licking me at the same time." How was she supposed to stay irritated at him when he was doing that?

"I can't help it." Still holding her waist with one arm, he used his free hand to tuck away the brown strands that fell on her face.

He had an ability to wrap her around his little finger, and he was doing it now. She tried to be stern, she tried to stay annoyed, but at the soft expression of affection on his face, her irritation melted away. "Can't help annoying me or licking me?"

"Both." He smiled, closed the distance between them and licked her nose. Then her cheek.

She rolled her eyes and pushed against his arms. "You are like a dog."

"Woof." He grinned and tossed her onto his shoulder, chuckling when she screeched.

"What are you doing?" She grabbed the edge of his waistband for support, afraid that she would fall, despite his arm around her middle.

"Taking you to bed. You wanted to go to sleep, didn't you?" He patted her butt, which earned him a squeak, then he used a foot to push the door of her room open and walked inside, kicking it shut behind him.

"Put me down!" She clumsily slapped his back.

"Here you go, my lady." He bent over the bed and threw her down.

"Blade!" She bounced lightly on the mattress. She would have scrambled off the bed, but in the next second he crawled above her, trapping her with his arms and legs.

"That's for spraying me with water that time," he said.

"You are such a child."

"And this is for saying that I'm a child." He tickled her.

"Stop it!" She shoved his hand away, glaring at him; she hated tickling, she was always afraid that she would pee herself, and he knew that.

His face softened. "And this is for saying that I'm hot." A grin flashed on his face before he lowered himself as if doing a push-up and pressed his mouth against hers, entangling her in a kiss. He gently explored her mouth, seducing her with twirls of his tongue.

Her hand found the back of his neck and she buried her fingers in his hair, drawing him closer. Everything around her disappeared, except him and the want for him. He wielded so much power over her, over her desires. Her free hand slid under his cotton shirt and her fingers tiptoed over the hard muscles of his back.

He ended the kiss, pulled himself up onto his elbow, his hand cupped her cheek, and he stared at her as if she were the object of everything he dreamed about.

At the intensity of his gaze, her breath hitched.

Chapter 10

His fingers brushed down her cheek, then down further to rest on her neck, just over her pulse, which beat in the same rushed rhythm as his. How could she be so beautiful, so... so unearthly. Like a nymph that came to tempt him, to steal his heart. But nymphs didn't steal hearts, even though this one could steal his. Actually she wouldn't have to, he would have given it to her gladly, she only had to ask. He entangled her in another kiss, then another one, all the while his hand explored the curves and dips of her body, enjoying the softness of her skin. "You feel so good."

She moaned, her pupils dilated and her cheeks flushed.

He pressed a kiss on the corner of her mouth then trailed small kisses down her throat, his fingers sliding over the fabric of her boxers and then over her leg. He hooked it around his hip. He had to stop now, before he lost the self-control that prevented him from taking advantage of her.

"I want you," she whispered in his ear while her hands pushed up his shirt. She tugged it off him.

The fragile thread of sanity to which he held so tightly snapped. All the reasons vanished and all that was left was her and his need for her. How could he resist her? He leaned over her, his hands tugged the boxers down her legs, her fingers digging into her skin, he felt as if he would burn into ashes if he couldn't have her right now, right this second. He loved her so much that it hurt just looking at her; knowing that she wasn't his hurt as if somebody were stabbing him with a hot knife. But in this moment, she was his, all his, and in this second, she wanted only him.

She reached for something in the nightstand, then pushed it into his hand, the redness of her cheeks even more pronounced.

A condom. His pants fell to the floor, he tore the foil and in the next moment he was in her, feeling her under him, feeling her around him and his chest constricted in painful joy. He loved her, so much.

Her nails dug into his back and delicious throaty moans left her mouth as she hid her face in the crook of his neck.

He whispered barely audible words of love in her ear, how much he wanted her, how much he needed her, how much she meant to him and how lost he was without her. One hand cradled her head, the other, wedged under her back, held her chest to chest with him, while he glided in and out of her softness, rocking his hips in a smooth motion, the tension building.

Her fingers slid upwards and she buried them in the hair at the back of his neck, tightly gripping him, her breath dampening the skin on his neck.

She felt so good, so soft, so amazing. He wanted to slow down, to prolong this sweetness, this ecstasy, but he couldn't, his body refusing to obey him as the tension in him climbed up and up and up and then he fell. His body jerked and warmth spread thorough him in waves.

She moaned again and her fingers tugged on his hair.

Still deep inside her, he sneaked his hand between them, down, until he touched her. He rubbed her, giving her a few slick strokes.

She tightened around him, then convulsed and another moan escaped her throat, this one slightly louder, sweeter; it sounded to him like the luring song of a siren.

He rolled them on their sides; his hand cupping her face, he drew her up for a kiss, tasting her like he was tasting her for the first time. Then he pulled out of her and, still dazed from what had just happened, took care of the condom and wiped himself. Lying back down on the bed, he drew her into his embrace, her back against his chest; he spooned with her and pulled the thin blanket over them, all the while thoughts tumbling inside his mind. He had made love to her! To her! It was everything that he had imagined and so much more.

"You have to stop doing this," she said breathlessly.

He pressed a kiss on the back of her neck, his hand on her stomach slipped slightly lower. Would she mind if they went for another round? Or was it too soon?

"Did you hear me?"

"Huh?" His brows furrowed as her words registered. She couldn't mean that, could she? Not with the way she had smiled up at him afterward, while looking shyly at him from under her lashes, when the gentleness and the tender regard he could read on her face made him want to kiss her and become one with her all over again. _Please don't mean it, please_. "Doing what?"

"Spooning. It's too warm." she said, her voice drowsy, followed by yawn. She pushed her feet out from under the covers.

"That's because I'm hot."

She pinched his hand resting on her belly.

He laughed.

"Go to sleep or get out of my bed."

"I'm sleeping, I'm sleeping." He snuggled against her and closed his eyes, savouring the moment of having her in his arms, trying to stay awake as long as he could.

In the morning when he woke up, he hoped to get a morning cuddle, but he only managed to steal two short kisses, neither with tongue. "You are so stingy."

"Morning breath." She pressed another chaste kiss on his mouth before she wiggled out of his embrace. "I'm going to be late for work."

He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. He should get up, too. He had five classes today, three of them with that annoying girl -- Janet or something -- who had been sticking to him far too much lately. "Callie."

"Hmmm?" She glanced at him over her shoulder before she focused back on the wardrobe as she browsed through her clothes.

"You are okay, right? You know, with what happened?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" She glanced at him again, but this time without making eye contact, while pink dusted the bridge of her nose and the T-shirt she held started to slip out of her fingers. She caught it.

"Just asking. To make sure." He grinned, relived that her rushing seemed to be related to her work, as she claimed, not trying to get away from him. For a moment, when she had refused to cuddle, he had thought... He would have jumped out of bed, wrapped himself around her and tried to tempt her back to bed, but the way she ran into the bathroom, she would probably have kicked him. "Callie," he yelled. "Do you need a lift?"

"That would be a life saver."

"What do I get?" He sat up and the blanket pooled around his hips.

"I'll buy you coffee."

"I had something more concrete in mind."

She peeked through the door for a short second and threw something at him.

He caught it. A box of cosmetic tissues. "No, not concrete enough."

"Just get out of bed and get dressed."

"I might, if you give me a kiss."

"Blade!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming." He dragged himself out of the bed and into the bathroom where he managed to steal a kiss, a racier one than she had given him a few minutes before. After he dropped her off in the alley behind The Delight he even managed to give her a grope when they were saying goodbye. That is until she broke the kiss and slapped away the hand that was squeezing her ass.

"Behave."

"Yes, honey bunny." He grinned and risked a quick peck on her mouth before he released her.

She rolled her eyes and then dashed to the back door, giving him a wave before she slipped inside.

He watched the door for a while, a wide smile on his face, before he put his helmet on and drove to his university.

It was a good morning today; actually, it was a great morning. The night before he had made love to the most beautiful and amazing girl in the world. Only once, unfortunately, when he really wished for a whole night and then twice in the morning, but his horniness would probably have freaked her out. Baby steps, he had to remind himself through the night. He had already taken one step too far by having sex with her before they cleared things up with his father. That didn't wipe the stupid smile off his face, though.

"Stop grinning, you look like an idiot," Peter, his fellow student, complained when they walked through the school hallway toward the cafeteria.

"Like I care."

"Blade," a female voice called.

His smile dimmed slightly.

"Blade, wait up." The voice sounded closer now, accompanied by the thuds of heels against the light green linoleum.

"Aren't you going to answer?" Peter jabbed him with his elbow.

"I'd rather not."

Peter glimpsed over his shoulder. "Oh, I know her. Janet, right? She's cute. And she has brown hair and dark eyes, just the way you like them."

"I'm taken."

"Ooooh. A man who said he doesn't date has a girlfriend." Peter jabbed him with his elbow again, this time wiggling his brows and smirking. "Since when?"

Since forever. "Since last month."

"Is she the one I saw at the basketball game?"

"Yes."

"Hi, guys." Janet caught up with them and wrapped her arm around Blade's.

Blade nodded in greeting and shook her off. But, to his chagrin, she continued to touch his arm and invade his personal space. She even joined them for lunch, even though he told her that they planned to work on their assignment. She didn't care and Peter didn't seem to mind. Instead Blade tuned her out, focusing on his mac and cheese, and the notebook he pulled out of his bag, but she kept talking, trying to drag him into a conversation. If this had been any other day, he would have probably politely told her to shut up, but he was in high spirits, too high for even her to be able to bring it down.

"You are in a good mood." Her hand rested on his forearm.

"Yes, I am." He moved his arm, forcing her to remove her hand, picked up a forkful of macaroni and shoved it into his mouth.

"Anything good?" She bent closer and the scent of her perfume drifted to him, too strong for his taste.

"I had a great evening with my girlfriend," Blade said.

She reclined backwards, nodding, the smile she had worn on her face until now becoming slightly strained.

"I think you've met her."

"That brunette?"

Blade enjoyed how she shifted out of his personal space. "The one that I kissed, yes." And the one the he had introduced to her as his girlfriend. At that time, he had assumed that would have put a stop to her attempts to hang on his arm and touch him every time their paths crossed, but it hadn't. He hoped now it would and he wouldn't have to shove her hands away all the time.

Chapter 11

"Are you sure it's in the drawer?" Callie asked as she browsed through the folders, albums and knick-knacks in the third drawer of Blade's desk. The light coming from the window reflected off the metal frame of the draft table beside it, blinding her.

"It has to be there," Blade said to her over the phone.

She took the drawer out and tossed its contents onto Blade's bed, which was pushed against the wall opposite the desk, between a large wardrobe and a low cabinet Blade used as a nightstand. "There's no red folder here." But there was an album there, a black one with golden ornaments. She knew what it contained. She put it on the cabinet.

"Maybe it's on the desk, under the blueprints," he suggested.

She went to the cluttered desk and pushed the rustling blue papers away. She saw the corner of what appeared to be a red folder sticking out from under the pile of papers. She pulled it out. "Found it."

"Great. How fast can you be here?"

"I don't know." She went to the bed, put the drawer beside it and with a sweep of her arm cleared all the things off the mattress inside. "An hour. A half hour." She pushed the drawer back into the empty slot. "It depends on the bus and traffic." She picked up the red folder and the album, then she left Blade's room and went into her room. "And I still need to change."

"You can come as you are, I don't mind."

"Do you even know how I'm dressed?" She put the album on her nightstand.

"Of course I do." His voice lowered into a husky caress that vibrated though her. "The same clothes I took off you this morning,"

A memory of their morning tumble flashed in her mind and she could have sworn she could feel the touch of his fingers as they slid down the curve of her hip, and smell the musky scent of him. She covered her face with her hand as if that would cool down the flush of her cheeks. "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"You are grinning, aren't you?"

"Maybe."

"If you are going to be like that, you can say goodbye to your report."

"Honey bunny."

"Don't 'honey bunny' me," Callie tried to at least sound stern, but the way the corners of her mouth twitched upward, she sounded more breathless than anything.

"Hey, bunny," he said. "My class just got cancelled, if you manage to get here before twelve, I'll take you to lunch. They have... Just wait a moment." There was the sound of footsteps before he spoke again. "Let me see. Ah, grilled cheese. You like grilled cheese, right? They also have chicken, fried steak and beef nachos."

"I'll try to be there as soon as possible," she said. She got dressed in record time, pushed the folder into her bag and rushed to the station, where she managed to catch a bus that was just leaving. She arrived in front of Blade's university in thirty-three minutes, at fifteen minutes before twelve.

Blade waited for her at the entrance and after a short hello, he cupped her cheeks and kissed her.

She pushed him away, a smile on her face. "Blade."

"Whaaat?" He smiled down at her, his fingers framing her face again.

"Behave."

"Is it so bad that I want to kiss you?"

Her eyes darted over the people in the hall visible through the double glass doors, then over the walkway that connected the building with the parking lot, and the lawn scattered with trees and people who sat on the grass. "Not here."

"Okay." He grabbed her wrist and dragged her inside the building then up the staircase to the first floor and across the hallway until they came to a dead end. He set his left hand on her back, his palm on the place between her shoulder blades, he pulled her toward him until they were chest to chest and his messenger bag bumped against her hip. "There's nobody here. What about now?"

"Well..." She pinched her earlobe.

"So cute." He buried the fingers of his free hand in her hair, tilted her head up and pressed his mouth against hers. His nibbled her lower lip then licked it before he slipped his tongue into her mouth.

The heat of his hand burned through the fabric of her sweater and the way he held her, as if he wasn't about to let her go, should have made her feel her trapped, but it actually made her feel wanted and protected. She loved his strong arms, loved the way they held her so tightly, and she wished she had the courage to hold onto him the same way. She wrapped her arm around his neck, rose onto her toes and reciprocated every one of his wet caresses.

In the distance, the sound of a door shutting drifted to them.

With a peck on her lips Blade ended the series of kisses. "You feel so good," he whispered to her. "So good that I'm afraid that if we don't stop, I just might drag you into the nearest empty classroom and have my way with you."

She opened her mouth, 'I wouldn't mind it,' stuck in her throat. _I really wouldn't, would I?_ Her eyes widened and she shifted backwards.

"Don't look so shocked." He leaned over her and pressed his mouth against her forehead then trailed kisses to her temple. "I want you, always, but as much as I want you, I would never ever force you into anything that you don't want to do. I hope you know that." He lifted his head, his fingers combing through her brown strands.

She nodded. But that wasn't the problem, wasn't it? "Let's go eat."

"Let's go." Another quick peck on her mouth and then he released her, but only for a short moment before he hooked his arm with hers. He guided her across the hallways toward the double grey door.

She had been in his uni's cafeteria twice now, and she liked the light, open space with the plastic grey chairs and white tables. She sat by the glass wall with a view of the inner yard and her eyes slid over the buildings, half-hidden by greenery.

Blade brought a tray of food, set it on the table and sat in the chair beside her. He gave her a plate with potatoes and fried steak, while he had beef nachos.

"I want some of those." She pointed at his plate.

"Take it." He forked a potato from her plate and put it into his mouth.

"Hello." A brunette girl with a high ponytail appeared by their table, a tray in her hands. "Can I join you?"

She looked familiar. Callie glanced at Blade, whose eyes narrowed as he furiously chewed. She shrugged.

The girl sat on the seat opposite Blade and rearranged the light blue scarf hanging around her neck.

Blade swallowed the food then spoke up, "Could you leave please, I would like to enjoy my time with my girlfriend."

Callie elbowed him in his ribs. "Don't be rude," she whispered.

Blade grumbled under his breath.

The brunette stretched her arm over the table. "Janet."

Callie shook it and introduced herself, frowning at the awkwardness that descended over them. The awkwardness increased when Janet ignored her while trying to engage Blade in conversation. The girl liked Blade, it was obvious, and Callie might have felt just a tiny bit jealous and insecure -- the girl was beautiful -- if not for Blade's hand on her knee and his scowling at the girl. The girl might like him, but Blade didn't share her sentiment.

After they finished eating, Blade put their empty plates on the tray and carried it toward the disposal line

Callie's eyes followed him.

"So you are his new girlfriend?" Janet put the fork down.

"Apparently." Callie took the bag she had hung on the back of the chair and took Blade's folder from it.

"You are just one of many."

Blade had many girlfriends? She had assumed that he at least had one, but many... "Is that so?"

"That's right. They were all brunettes with grey eyes and not one of them has lasted very long."

Janet was brunette, too. No, if she looked closely, she could see blond roots.

"You are not going to last long either." Janet stood up.

She had known girls like this in high school, the ones who thought that they were the be-all and end-all. "Is that why you dyed your hair brown? So you might have a chance with him?"

Janet's eyes burned into her before the girl grabbed her tray, wheeled around and stomped away.

"What's with her?" Blade sat behind the table.

"I'm afraid I have been rude to her."

"She probably deserved it." He gave her a bottle of water.

"Here." Callie gave him the folder.

"Thank you." He pushed it into the bag he had at the side of his chair.

"She said that you had a lot of girlfriends and that I'm just one of many." Callie moved sideways, scrutinizing Blade.

Blade played with the cap of his bottle. "You are my girlfriend, but they were not."

"No? What were they?"

"More like friends with benefits."

"I see."

His hand found hers. "They didn't mean anything."

Callie didn't tug her hand out of his grip. Her eyes slid over the black fabric of his shirt to their hands.

"You have to believe me."

"Did they know? That you weren't serious with them?"

"Yes." His fingers slid between hers.

"Were there a lot of them?"

"I wouldn't say 'a lot,' but some, I guess. Does it bother you?"

She lifted her eyes, a small crease between her brows. "I... I thought you were better than this."

Something like pain flashed in his eyes and his fingers started to withdraw.

She caught his hand before it withdrew completely. "Sorry, I don't mean it like that, it's just... I guess I'm a little disappointed in you, in your behaviour with girls. You shouldn't have lied to them."

"But I didn't. I never made them any promises or anything."

She still didn't like it. And she complained about it to Rose, when she dropped by The Delight on her way home.

"He's a man and they are all horny things, with few exceptions. What did you expect? That he would stay a virgin until you noticed him?" Rose took a sip of her coffee.

Callie furrowed her brows.

"Come on, Callie. Don't tell me you haven't figured it out yet?"

"What?"

"That girl said they all had brown hair and grey eyes."

"Yes, that's his preference. So?"

"You have brown hair and grey eyes."

"Yeah?" Callie lifted her hand in a 'so what?' gesture.

"His girls all looked like that because of you." When Callie shook her head, Rose leaned over the table. "They did. Because he has always been into you."

"You don't know that."

"I see how he looks at you. How he has always looked at you. Like you are the Sun of his solar system."

"You are exaggerating." Callie's eyes slid over the patrons of The Delight who, at this time of day, were mostly older people.

"You know that I'm not. It's funny actually."

"What is?"

"That that girl coloured her hair just so she could have a shot with him."

"It's sad, not funny. I feel sorry for her, actually." Callie picked up the small white ceramic cup and swirled the light brown liquid inside. Her coffee had gone cold. "I should have been nicer to her."

"Don't be stupid. She deserved it. To have the audacity to say something like that," Rose said. "You know what else is funny; for you, nothing makes holding hands more official than sex, while for him, nothing makes sex more official than holding hands."

"Who said that I had sex with him?"

"Did I say that you did?" Rose studied her face. "But you want to, don't you?" She grinned. "To fu --"

Callie narrowed her eyes at Rose.

"To have heated intercourse with him and to rub yourself all over his hot body?"

Warmth crept up into Callie's cheeks and she lowered her head, pretending to be busy with her coffee. "Stop being so..."

"What? I didn't use any of the profane words. Hey, don't you think that Camden has a hot body, too? Look at him." Rose tilted her head toward the blond, who stood before the coffee station. "In that tight shirt you can see his biceps, look how well-developed they are. Not like Blade's, though. Your boy really has a great body."

"He works out."

"What do you think the prefect measurements for men are? 120-75-95? I prefer it 99-more than one-and zero, though."

"Huh?"

"Ninety-nine years old with more than a million in the bank and no relatives." Rose flashed a big smile. "That's what I call a perfect man."

"You and your jokes." Callie shook her head.

"It's not a joke. Not really," Rose said. "While your perfect man... Blade is probably the one, huh? The perfect man for you."

Callie had never thought about what she considered a perfect man, but Rose might be right, because she couldn't see any flaws in him. Well, except the fact that in the past he'd had so many friends with benefits.

Chapter 12

"Blade. Blade!"

Blade sighed. He could have pretended that he didn't hear her and driven off, but he had some unfinished business with her. With one hand holding onto the handle of his bike, he half-turned and waited for Janet to come closer.

"Blade." Her manicured hand made itself at home on his shoulder. "I'm so glad that I was able to catch you."

"Me too." He pulled the visor of his helmet up.

Her mouth curled into a satisfied smile.

"You have been talking with my girlfriend when I'm not around," Blade said, scowling. "I don't like it."

The smile vanished off her face and the hand resting on his shoulder withdrew.

"I never want to see you talking to her again, do you understand?"

"I don't know what she said to you." Janet stepped backward. "But I never --"

"I never want to see you talking to her again," Blade repeated. "Do you understand?"

"There's something wrong with you two." She frowned. "Making such a big deal \--"

The roar of the machine swallowed the sound of her voice. He had no interest in her excuses and without even a wave he drove off. He had never showed any interest in Janet or acted friendlier with her than the rest of his acquaintances; what had she thought she would accomplish, by telling Callie about his friends? The nerve of some people.

After he arrived home and parked his bike in the garage, he rushed into the house, but Callie wasn't there; not in the kitchen, not in the living room or her bedroom. She couldn't be sulking somewhere, because she had learned about his escapades, could she? They had talked about it and even though she didn't approve of it, she seemed to accept it. After all, it was just sex.

"It's a good thing I didn't say that to her." He grimaced as he slumped onto her bed and leaned on his elbows. Where was she, anyway? From out of his pocket he pulled his phone and looked to see if she had sent him any messages. An envelope flashed on his phone's display, together with 'Do you want to read it?' under it. His eyes darkened and his brows lowered when he saw the sender and read the message. It wasn't that he hated his father or resented when he came home, it was just... he disliked his father's shadow, which loomed like a dark cloud over his relationship with Callie.

He rolled onto his side and used his arm as a pillow while his gaze trailed over the room, over the beige armchair and the end table set in the corner by the window, the two oak chest- of-drawers and the wardrobe made out of the same wood that stood by the door. Before it had become her room, it had been a guest room, a room in which he rarely set his foot, but now, if he could have, he would have spent all of his time here, together with her, of course.

He heard the muffled sound of the door opening and closing followed by steps.

"Blade!" Callie's voice travelled up the staircase and through the opened door of her room.

"In here." He sat up.

The footsteps thudded over the wooden stairs and then across the hallway. "Not in my room again?"

"Yes, in your room."

She stepped through the door and with crossed arms stopped before the bed.

"Are you angry?"

"By now I'm already used to finding you in my room." She smiled. "You are such a stalker."

Creases lined his forehead. "I am, aren't I?" He had never thought about it, but now that she mentioned it, his actions certainly did qualify him as a stalker. He hadn't been browsing through her stuff beyond the books she kept on her end table, but he had been following her around since forever and never had any reservations before entering her room. She would have locked it, if she minded it, he had thought. "I have always intruded on your privacy, haven't I?"

"You have been doing this since you were twelve. I'm used to it." She went around the bed.

He patted the spot beside him.

She nudged the armchair in the direction of the bed, sat on it and leaned her elbow on the desk. "And you eased up, though."

"Are you still angry at me?"

"I wasn't angry."

"Just disappointed?"

"I thought you respected girls." She pushed her elbow backwards.

"I do. They were the ones who wanted to sleep with me and treated me like an object." He straightened, trying to see what she had under her forearm.

"And you didn't?"

"No, but I didn't mind it, I mean, if there were no strings attached." What had she expected? That he would wait for her? Actually he had meant to, that is, until he found her with that boy. But after that, three days later, he had lost his virginity with a girl two years older than him. She had been trying to seduce him for months, and he finally said, 'why not?'

"What about us?"

"I'm not sleeping around, if that what you mean." He stood up, walked over to her and took hold of her hand.

A cute little crease appeared on her forehead. "About the strings..."

"I would say that there're plenty of strings attached, wouldn't you?"

Her eyes lowered to their hands. "Nothing makes sex more official than holding hands."

"What?"

"Just something Rose said." Callie pushed her elbow even further back then shifted to put her back to the table.

"What do you have there?" He leaned over her.

"Nothing." She reclined backwards as if that would hide the table from him.

He snatched the album off the table. "What did you plan to do, try to erase it again? You can't, I used pen."

She folded her hands in her lap, her eyebrows slightly pinched and her eyes clouded with what looked like compassion and worry.

"Stop looking at me like that. It's not like I just made those scribbles now, it happened years ago."

"Yes, I know that, I'm just..." She reached for the album and curled her fingers around its edge.

"Overreacting like you always do." He released his hold on the album. "I was in therapy, remember, together with Father. I got over it. Really."

She wrapped her arms around the album and held it against her chest. "Than why did you have it in your room, in your drawer?"

He shrugged his shoulder. "In the beginning, so that Father wouldn't see it, and then I just forgot about it."

"For eight years?"

"For nine, actually. It's part of the past." With his hands, he framed her face. "Can we focus on the future? On us?"

She nodded.

"When are you going to tell Father?"

She wore a pleading expression when she glanced at him. "Do we have to?"

"Yes, we have to." His released her. "I have no intention of sharing you with him."

"Share me? What are you talking about?" Frowning, she put the album on the table.

"I'm not stupid."

"I never said that you were."

"I saw you."

"I really don't have the slightest idea what you are talking about."

He didn't want to say it, not out loud. "About you and Father... about you two being lovers."

"What?"

"About you two being lovers."

"You are joking, right?"

"I saw you two with my own eyes."

"No, you didn't." She stood. "You couldn't have."

"Don't lie to me." His hands curled.

"It never happened."

"Don't lie."

"How can you even think that?" She grimaced. "Me and your father! How can you even?" She strode past him toward the bed, shaking her head.

"You were in his bed! I saw you."

"I was never in his bed."

"Don't lie."

"When?" She wheeled around. "When did you see me in his bed?"

"When we were younger."

"When you were a child?"

"Yes."

She sighed. "Yes, I was there, but it was not what you think. You where there too, crying. That's why I was there that time. Because you cried, because Jack cried."

Could he have gotten it all wrong? He studied her face. "No."

"No?" She moved backward until the backs of her knees touched the edge of her bed. She sat on the mattress and rubbed her forehead.

He closed the distance between them in one step. It could be true, maybe. It would be so good, if that were true. "Nobody ever told me and I never asked the reason why you came to live here. Why are you here then, Callie, if not as my father's lover? We're not related, that I know of. So why then?"

She averted her gaze, fixed it on the floor between them. "You sound like you hate me being here."

"Never." He curled his fingers around her chin and gently nudged it up. "I don't care if you are -- were -- my father's lover. You are mine now. And I'm yours. Just don't lie to me, please, just don't lie to me."

"How can you believe that Jack would have ever slept with a teenager?"

"I saw you two."

"And I said that you were there, too. We just shared the same bed, that's all. I swear."

His eyes searched her face, trying to judge whether she was telling the truth. But how could it be the truth when he had seen them?

"Why don't you believe me?"

He wanted to, so much. "Tell me the reason for your arrival then?"

"I'm not his lover!" She pushed his hand away.

"Why don't you tell me, Callie?" He made a step backward. "Tell me. If you are not his lover, then why are you here?"

"I can't." The grey eyes that met his looked troubled. Her fingers rubbed the edge of her shirt, tugging on it.

"Of course not."

"I promised Jack that I wouldn't."

"Yes, of course."

"No, really. Ask Jack, he will tell you. He has to tell you himself."

"But you can't?"

"I promised."

"You should tell me the truth, that's all I want, the truth." Why did she deny it so much? He knew what he had seen, he knew what she had been since the start. And he didn't mind it. As long as she wasn't with his father anymore, he didn't mind it.

"I am telling you the truth, you just don't want to believe it." She pinched her earlobe. "You know me. I thought you knew me. But to believe that me and Jack..." She shook hear head. "How could you?"

"Stop lying, already. Just stop!" Why did she even bother denying it? There was nothing to gain.

She sighed then in a tired, low voice said, "Get out. Please, get out."

"Fine!" He turned and left her room, slamming the door behind him.

Chapter 13

Callie stood by the end table, her fingers trailing over the black imitation leather, up and down the edge of the album. She'd had it for two days, but she hadn't opened it yet. She knew what she would find inside: Waldwell family pictures. Were they the same as the last time she had seen them, nine years ago? She wedged her fingers between the pages and shoved it open.

The image of a brunette's smiling face greeted her together with the dark blue spot of scribbles that covered the face and upper body of the smaller person that stood beside her.

She skimmed through the pages, looking for a picture void of blue scribbles. There were none, except the ones that showed only the woman and Jack. Even the ones at the beginning had scribbles, they covered part of the woman's chest, only a baby's fist or a small leg peeked out from under the lines and curves made by the pen. Blade had scribbled over every picture of himself as if that would hush down the guilt that had given him nightmares and for which he had needed professional help to get rid off. He felt as if he personally had caused the car crash that took his mother's life. Jack shouldered the same guilt. She slammed the album shut and pushed it away.

He had said that this was a thing of a past. Was it really? Could she risk it and tell him the truth? She had always believed that he could handle it, but Jack didn't.

The sound of footsteps came from the hallway.

_Blade!_ She turned, her eyes on the door, she took a hesitant step toward them, then stopped. He had been sulking, refusing to talk to her and insisting that she stop spouting lies. She could understand him, aware that in his shoes she would probably doubt her story too, but...

The thud of steps stopped before her room.

She tiptoed to the door and put a hand over the wooden surface, imagining him doing the same. The fingers of her free hand wrapped around the door handle. She needed to talk to him. She pushed the handle down and taking a step aside she swung the door open.

He stood there, with his forearm leaning on the door-jamb, his head bent. He stumbled forward, caught himself, then silently, without a glance in her direction, turned around.

"Blade." She reached out, her fingers hovering near his shoulder for a moment before she touched him. "I need to talk to you."

He shook her hand off. "Are you going to tell me the truth? Or the same lies you have been trying to feed me every time you open your mouth?" He started to walk away.

Her arm fell by her side and her hands curled, while anger started to boil inside her. She forced herself to relax her fingers, swallowed her anger and inwardly sighed. He chose to not believe her for the same reason he always mentally prepared himself for failure with things that mattered to him. Because if he believed he would succeed and then failed, it would hurt too much. She needed to see his face. She darted forward, but his stride was longer than hers. "Wait."

"For what?" Blade tossed over his shoulder. "I don't want to hear any more lies."

"Blade, I never had anything with your father."

"Stop." He wheeled around. "Please, stop." His eyes narrowed in a glare as his hands curled around her shoulders. "Just stop. I don't want to hear another word about it, do you understand?"

The eyes that stared at her looked so dark, dark as the pit of the despair she had felt after her parents' death, the same darkness that gripped him in his nightmares. What was happening inside him? Her fingers cupped her chin. "Why are you so angry?"

"Don't you get it? You are lying to me. Lying! To me! Me, who doesn't care why you came here, just that you came here. To me, who doesn't care that you fucked my father --"

The sound of the slap echoed in the hallway and the red imprint of her hand glowed from his cheek.

Her palm stung, but the fact that he believed what he was saying stung more. How could he have such a horrible opinion of her, of his father? "I have never ever --"

"Spare me." He gave her a dark gaze, full of... not disgust, no, but disappointment and what appeared to be loathing. Yes, in this moment the glint of affection that had always shone down on her was missing and it felt like she had lost him. He turned and strode away.

She watched his back, her shoulders stiff. Since she came into this house, this was the first time she had felt unwanted, unwelcome. And this from Blade, the boy who had become the centre of her universe. How could he have turned into such a hateful, manipulative ass?

In the next few days as he shunned her, passing her in the hallways as if she didn't exist, the feeling of being unwanted intensified.

"It's like he hates me," she complained to Rose when they sat in The Delight. And it hurt. All the blank stares that that passed her, all of her calls that went unanswered and all of her touches that were brushed off, they hurt, each one of them more than the one before. "And I can't stand it anymore."

"I'm sure it's not that bad." Rose's hand covered Callie's.

"Worse." Callie rubbed her eyes. "Much, much worse. It's like I'm not a part of his family anymore. Like I'm some stranger, somebody he doesn't know, somebody that he doesn't want to know. I just... it hurts."

"Then leave."

"Leave?" Callie's hand wrapped around the coffee cup. _To leave Blade and Jack._

"You have the means, right? You rarely spend your money and your cost of living has to be low. You have to have some savings."

Yes, she did. And she also had the insurance money she had gotten after her parents' deaths. "To do what? Rent an apartment? I couldn't do that." She took a sip of cold coffee. Would she even be able to leave her home? To cut her connection with Blade, even though he was acting like a selfish jerk? Because that was what moving out would mean now that Blade wasn't on speaking terms with her.

"Why not?"

"Girls!" From behind the counter Camden pointed at the clock hanging over the coffee station. "Your break is over."

"Are you saying you can't handle four customers on your own?" Rose waved him off before she focused back on Callie and repeated, "Why not?"

"I can't lose him."

"Then do everything you can to make up with him."

"I can't, he doesn't want to listen to me. It's like I'm not even there."

"Could it be that you have lost him already?"

"Don't say that."

"Don't glare at me. I'm not the one who refuses to speak with you."

"I'm sorry."

"The move doesn't have to be permanent."

"We are not related by blood, if I move out... I don't think that I would be able to return."

"Hey, you two." Camden's body blocked the light coming from the large windows and cast a shadow over them. "Did you come to work or to chitchat?"

Callie looked up.

"Oh, darling." Camden's hand descended on Callie's shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me."

Callie sighed.

"Hey, Camden," Rose said. "How long is Ewan's tour going to last this time?"

Camden had two brothers and Ewan was the younger, a bassist in a rock band. Whenever he came to the city, he usually occupied either Camden's second bedroom or the couch in the apartment of their older brother, Kalen.

"I don't know." Camden shrugged his shoulders. "A few months. Half a year."

"Could you lend his room to Callie until then?"

"You need a place to stay?"

"I don't think I --"

"Yes, she does," Rose said.

"No..." Callie shook her head. "I can't just leave... I have to think about it. Talk to --" To Blade? He didn't want to listen to her. "To Jack." Yes, she needed to talk to Jack, to tell him about Blade and her. She was dreading that so much, afraid of Jack's disappointment, afraid of his scorn. Okay, maybe not tell him about her relationship with Blade or about Blade's conviction that they had been lovers. Learning about Blade's preposterous notion would break Jack's heart. But if she intended -- if she was thinking of leaving, he should know about it. She stood up.

"What's up?" Rose asked.

"I need my phone." Callie went behind the counter and toward the till.

Rose grabbed their cups and rushed after her. "What for?"

From the shelf under the till, Callie took her phone. "To text Jack." _Call me as soon as you have some time_ , she wrote in the message. Throughout her shift she glanced at the phone, expecting his call at any moment.

Her phone didn't ring until late in the evening, when she lay on her bed reading a book, because watching telly in the empty living room while Blade was holed up in his room highlighted her loneliness. She looked at the phone, her heartbeat increasing when she saw a name flashing on the display. "Hello."

"Hi, pumpkin. What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong."

"Then what is so urgent you need to hear from me two days before I get home anyway?"

"You're coming home?"

"Hasn't Blade told you?"

"No."

"That boy. He should have told you."

"Well," Callie pinched her earlobe, making a small grimace. "We are not exactly on speaking terms."

"What did he do now? It must be something big, if you are not speaking to him."

"Actually, it's him who's sulking. But that's not why I wanted to talk to you."

"What is it?"

"We can talk when you come home."

"Since we are already on the line, I have time now."

"Well, I was thinking..."

"Yes?"

"I was thinking I that I should _..." Woman up, Callie, and just tell him already_. She took a deep breath, then in a rush of words she said, "That maybe it's time for me to leave."

"You mean move out."

He didn't sound angry. "Yes."

"I always knew that some day you would spread your wings and fly away, just not so soon."

"I'm twenty-five, didn't the 'so soon' already pass years ago?"

"I thought that a boy and the desire to start your own family would be what took you away, but you said that you are single and that there's no boy."

"Well, yes, but..."

"You are growing up?"

"Something like that."

He sighed before he spoke up, "And you are pretty certain that you want to do it?"

_No._ "Yes."

"When?"

"Soon."

"I understand. I just hope that you feel enough love for this old man to visit him, now and then."

"How can I visit you when you are gone most of the time?"

"We will work something out."

"Yes, we will." Callie smiled.

"Does Blade know?"

"I haven't mentioned it to him yet."

"And if he's sulking, he's probably not going to listen to you," Jack said. "But you have to tell him. You have to give him the opportunity to get over his resentment while you're still there. He won't like it, though, your moving out of the house. That boy is too attached to you. He might have a new tantrum."

"I'll try, but..."

"If he doesn't want to listen..."

"Yes." And if she dared to tell him. What would he even say? Would he get upset and try to stop her? Or would he break her heart with indifference?

Chapter 14

The music from the radio drifted up the stairs, across the hallway and through the open door into his room.

Blade, who worked behind his drafting table, straightened up and stood, then stretched. Silently, he went through the door, then down the stairs to peek into the kitchen.

Callie, stirring something in the pot on the stove, sang softly with the music coming from the small radio set on the shelf on the opposite wall, beside a row of cookbooks. He had thought that after their fight, she would stop cooking for him, but she only stopped calling him down for lunch. The food was always waiting for him, either on the counter or in the refrigerator.

He smiled and his fingers curled around the door in imitation of the way he wanted to wrap his arms around her and just hold her. He opened the door wider, his foot lifted to take a step forward, only to freeze in mid-air. He shifted backwards and softly closed the door.

She had been trying to talk to him, quite desperately, lately. He knew what she wanted to say, the same thing she had been repeating since he first brought the issue up: she and his father had never been lovers. Couldn't she understand what her denial did to him? What it meant? He could deal with the fact that she was his father's lover. He had known that since the beginning. What he couldn't deal was her lying. She didn't trust him and she didn't trust in his love. And maybe -- he refused to even think of it, but the thought cut into his mind every time she denied a relationship with Jack -- she wasn't ready to end things with Jack and be only his. What if he was just a distraction until his father came home? What if that boy from that time was just a distraction, too?

He rested his forehead against the white wall. She wasn't like that, not his Callie, he knew that; his heart told him that, but his mind played with him, giving him dark thoughts that caused sleepless nights of tossing and turning. Because... because she had never said that she loved him.

The clink of what sounded like a utensil hitting the floor followed by a swear word. But, like always she didn't use an actual swear word, but a euphemism. This time it was a 'darn' instead of 'damn.'

His mouth curved into a smile, but it lasted only for a second. He pushed himself away from the wall. His father was coming today; four hours from now, he would have to go pick him up from the airport, which wasn't something he was looking forward to. He loved his father dearly, but he loved Callie more. And even though he tried not to, he resented his father for having had her and resented her for denying it.

A thud and a pain. He looked at his fisted hand, the one with which he had just hit the wall. He would probably have a bruise there later.

"Blade?"

He turned around and strode across the hallway and up the stairs. He couldn't talk with her, he couldn't even risk being in the same room with her, looking into her beautiful grey eyes, too afraid that he would yield to her, that he would slump down on his knees and cry and beg for her to love him, to lie to him, to say that she loved him and that she would never, ever leave him.

He heard the door as it opened and closed and then a rush of steps as she hurried after him. "Blade. I need to talk to you. Please."

"No." He was already at the top of the stairs, a few steps away from his room.

"Please, Blade, I just need to tell you something."

"I don't want to hear it." He reached his room, slammed the door shut and locked it, then leaned his back against it, his palms flat against it. She had never entered his room without invitation, unlike him, who burst into her room whenever he liked, but he doubted that she would stick to the formalities now.

"Open up." The door handle moved up and down. "Please. I really have to tell you something important."

"What? About you and Father?"

"Is it really so hard to believe me?"

"Don't start."

A moment of silence in which he imagined he could hear her sighing.

"Fine, don't believe me and ignore me. According to you, I'm lying anyway. Just don't tell Jack what you believe us to be, please." Her voice sounded so sad, as if she was on the verge of crying. "Just don't tell Jack?"

His finger slid over the wooden surface to touch the handle. _Are you crying, Callie?_ He could never stand her crying, the need to open the door and to gather her in his arms was suffocating him. He clenched his jaw. "Why not?

"You are going to break his heart."

"You mean, you and your cheating are?"

This time the silence didn't last a few seconds, but stretched on; for a moment he thought she had walked away, but then she spoke up. "If you want to tell him about us, be my guest."

Why did she say that? Because she knew he wouldn't? "You should have told me to get lost at the beginning. You shouldn't have strung me along and just to toss me aside as soon as he comes home."

She didn't reply to that, but he could distinguish the swoosh made by her slippers as she moved away.

She was hurt, wasn't she? "Oh, Callie." He felt a sting at the corners of his eyes and he rubbed them, sighing tiredly. He wanted her to be happy, he really did, but he was selfish enough that he wanted for her to be happy with him. Of course, if it turned out that she couldn't, he was prepared to step aside. But not yet. Not yet. He would sort this out. He would find the right words to explain why her insisting on the lie hurt him so much. And he would make her fall in love in him and ditch his father. He would.

He would, he tried to assure himself hours later, after he picked up his father from the airport and his confidence had slightly faded. Callie and his father had history and the way things stood, their relationship was not something he could break as easily as he imagined he would.

"You have been quiet," Jack commented.

Blade glanced at his father, who had his eyes fixed on the scenery outside. "What do you want me to say?"

Jack faced Blade. "I talked with Callie, she said that you are ignoring her."

So she had told him. Why wasn't he surprised? "I thought you would be more interested in how my school was going."

"Why are you ignoring her?"

"It's only a temporary thing." Blade glanced at the rear view mirror, frowning at the blue Volvo rapidly flashing its headlights behind him. He slowed down to the speed limit. _If you are in such a hurry, leave earlier next time, you moron._

"Does she know that?"

"As if she cares, especially now that you are around."

"What can I say, I'm a bundle of sunshine." Jack brushed imaginary dust off his shoulder. "Not like you. It's no wonder Callie enjoys my charm more than with somebody who sulks over every little thing, like you."

Jack's voice was light, but Blade felt his father's words like the sting of a thousand needles. Callie did enjoy his father's company more than his. He didn't feel like talking with his father any more and he reduced his conversation to short answers. His father didn't question it, he probably attributed it to his sulking. It got worse, his sulking, when he turned into the drive way and the sight of Callie standing on the doorstep, with her arms around her middle, greeted them.

Jack rolled down the window and waved to her.

Callie smiled and lifted her hand, her fingers peeking out from the long sleeves of her grey cardigan.

She had come out to greet Jack, which she never did for him. It was like flashing a red rag to a bull. Did she have to flaunt her fondness of Jack before him? He couldn't watch them being all friendly and sweet together, so as soon as he parked the car, he pushed his way past Callie into the house and then rushed up the stairs into his room, where he threw himself on the bed. He could feel tingles alongside his left arm, just where it had brushed against Callie. He put his hand over the spot, nursing it, and rolled onto his back.

In the silence the muted sounds of their voices drifted up to his ear before they were cut off by the thud of the door.

"Callie." He sighed and closed his eyes. He missed her, so much. Her smell, her voice and her touch. And her smile. In this moment all what he wanted to do was to run downstairs and tear her away from his father, toss her over his shoulder and carry her into his room and never let her go. He would have to face her soon, as soon as he could get his resentment under control and as soon as the pain caused by her lies faded a little.

#

Blade stood by the door of Callie's room, with his ear against the wood. He couldn't hear anything. Where was she? He hadn't seen or heard her for two days now. And she had even stopped cooking for him -- or his father had started to munch on the food she had stored for him in the refrigerator.

"She's gone."

Over his shoulder, Blade frowned at his father. "What?"

"She moved out."

"No, she didn't." Blade tried the handle and the door opened. How odd. He stepped inside, his gaze sliding over the familiar view. Everything was the same, the armchair, the end table, the freshly made bed, the nightstand, the wardrobe. His eyes returned back to the nightstand, to the nightstand without the picture of her parents, the clock, and the small basket of knick-knacks. He frowned as he went to the wardrobe and opened it. _Empty!_

"Yes, she did. That's what she was trying to tell you, but you refused to listen to her."

"No, she couldn't have." She wouldn't do that. She wouldn't. Not to him. Blade shook his head. He wheeled around. "It was you!"

Jack, who stepped in the room, arched his eyebrows.

"Just because you fuck her --"

"Fuck her! What's wrong with you?"

"You two have been fu--"

The punch in the gut Blade received made him double down and pant.

"Don't ever say that again!"

Holding onto his stomach, Blade hissed, "Not saying it doesn't make it untrue."

Another blow, this time as a slap over his head. "I have never fucked her. I have never even kissed her, if you don't count a kiss on the cheek." Jack's upper lip curled up and the eyes that stared down at him glinted dangerously.

"I don't buy it." Blade moved backwards until his legs hit the bed. He sat down and closed his eyes for a moment. _She couldn't be gone_.

"Is that what your sulking was about? You thought that we --"

"I saw you two! She was in your bed."

"When was she in my bed?"

Why did they both ask him the same question? "When I was twelve."

The storm in Jack's eyes settled down and the sharpness of his features softened. He walked closer and set his hand on Blade's shoulder. "Because you cried and wanted your mother."

"She was in your bed, not mine."

"But you weren't in your bed either. The first four months you came into my bed almost every night before you replaced it with Callie's."

"I don't remember that." Blade buried his face into his hands, then rubbed his eyes. Could it be true? Could it be that everything was a figment of his imagination? "If that's true and if Callie isn't your lover, why did you bring her into our family?"

The hand of Blade's shoulder withdrew. "Would 'I always wanted a daughter' suffice?"

Blade lifted his head, his eyes found his father's. "She said that she can't tell me and I should ask you."

Jack's sighed. He occupied the space beside Blade, leaned his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers. "I'd rather not, but if I don't, you will probably continue to believe your father is a dirty old man with a thing for teenage girls."

"What is it?"

"You know you are not responsible for your mother's death, right?"

"What's that got to do with it?"

"You know, right?"

"Yes. I know. My refusal to leave with her had nothing to do with her accident." It hadn't felt that way when he was a child, when the doubt nipped at him, never leaving him alone. When he had believed that his mother would still be alive, if he hadn't stubbornly insisted on staying with his father, who had just arrived home from one of his trips.

"If you had been with her, it wouldn't have prevented the accident, but there's a large possibility you would have died, too."

His mother had been upset when she left for his grandmother's house that evening, not only because of his tantrum, but because of his father's sudden appearance at home, two weeks late. "I know that. Why are you bringing up this now?"

Jack sighed. He pressed his palms together and brought them under his chin, then sighed again. "Your mother's accident... because of the high speed and slippery road, she lost control of the car."

"Yeah, Grandmother told me." She blamed Jack for the loss of her daughter and she was quite vocal about it. But what did this have to do with Callie's coming into their home?

"What she didn't tell you is that your mother crashed into another car, with a husband and wife inside. They died a week later. They left behind a teenager daughter, a girl without any relatives. She had no place to go; she was too old to be adopted and too young to live on her own, so I took her in, thinking that it was the least I could do."

"The couple that died, they were Callie's parents?"

"Yes."

"Callie came to live with us because my mother caused her parents' death?"

"Yes."

"Does Callie know?"

"Of course."

"But you never told me."

"You have been blaming yourself for your mother's death and I didn't want to put another burden on your shoulders."

"You should have told me, you shouldn't --" It was not his father's fault, it was his. He buried his hands in his hair, grimacing. "I believed you two were lovers. And I told her that." But that was not the worst; the worst was not believing her and sulking. And now... "She's gone." What was he going to do? "Callie's gone."

Chapter 15

"Callie, stop thinking about him." Rose set the cups of tea down on the glass table and sat beside Callie.

Frowning, Callie pushed the phone away and it glided over the table until it was stopped by a stack of manga. "I'm not thinking about him."

"Then why are you staring at your phone?" Rose picked up the remote control.

Callie shrugged her shoulders. "It's not like I'd call him."

"Yes, but you are waiting for him to call and then when he does, you stare at the phone with strange mixture of joy and yearning. The same yearning that was on your face just a moment ago."

"I miss him."

"I know, darling." Rose wrapped her arms around Callie and pulled her against her side.

"We have never been apart, except for a few times he went on school trips."

"I know." Rose stroked Callie's back with one hand while with other she switched the channels on the big screen telly that Camden had in the living room. "Don't you think that Camden is taking quite a long time getting the pizzas? What, has he gone to Italy for them or something?"

"Should I answer it, the next time he calls?" Callie asked.

"If you want to."

"But I don't know what to say to him."

"Where's Camden? I'm really hungry. Aren't you hungry?"

"Do you think he will even call again? And should I answer it if he does?"

"Darling, we have been having the same conversation for four days now. I have already said you have to do what's best for you and that I'll support you no matter what, okay? But if you continue to bring up the same thing over and over again, don't expect anything more from me than nodding my head."

"A boy broke my heart. Couldn't you be more sympathetic?" Callie's shoulders sagged.

"You really are a demanding whiner, you know that? I have been making you ice cream and spending all of my free time with you, what more do you want?"

"A kind word." Callie pouted.

"You poor little thing." Rose slid her arm higher and hooked it around Callie's neck and hauled her against her chest. "That bad, bad boy said such horrible things to you." She patted Callie's head. "There. There. There."

"You are making fun of me."

"Because I'm such a good friend, I'm distracting you. See, you haven't thought of Blade or mentioned him for a whole minute now."

"Am I so annoying?" Callie wiggled out of Rose's hold.

"You are miserable, I understand, darling. You love him and it's hard for you to let go of him. Now and then your whining does get a little annoying," Rose said. "But I'm your friend and suffering annoyance is part of a true friendship, isn't it? If I love somebody, I'm willing to tolerate their presence, even when they get annoying. Not without complaining, though."

"I love you," Callie leaned her head on her friend's shoulder.

"I know. I love you, too." Rose stared at the telly, while her fingers moved through the channels.

"Could you stop that already?" Callie gripped the remote and tried to wrestle it out of Rose's hand.

"But there's nothing interesting on." Rose held onto the remote, refusing to release it.

"There's never anything interesting on," Camden said from the door of the living room, two pizza boxes in his hands. "Let's eat." From the door, he waved for them to follow him. "Kitchen."

"Why can't we eat in the living room?" Rose stood and dragged herself to the hallway.

"Because you will stain my lovely new couch," Camden said from the kitchen.

Callie rose and followed Rose.

"I would never." Rose walked though the door at the left side of the living room, through which Callie could see the edge of a table and a chair.

A phone rang. Her phone, Callie knew from the ring tone. Was it Blade again? She returned to the living room, picked up the phone and glanced at the display. _Jack._ She answered. "Yes?"

"Hi, pumpkin."

"Hi."

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing special."

"Do you have some time tomorrow afternoon? I would like to take you to lunch."

"Sure," Callie said.

"I can come and get you or we can meet at Bram's. You have always liked their lasagne."

"Okay. Let's meet there. When?"

"At two. You are free then, right?"

"You know that I'm on vacation."

"Yes. Two o'clock at Bram's, then. I'll wait for you inside," Jack said. "See you then."

"See you then," Callie confirmed, then cut the connection.

"Who was it?" Rose peeked into the living room. "Not Blade? You haven't answered Blade's call, have you?"

"It was Jack. He invited me to lunch tomorrow."

"A casual thing or does he want to talk about something special?"

"I don't know. Do you think Blade told him about us?" Was that why Jack wanted to see her? Her eyebrows furrowed.

"You'll find out tomorrow," Rose said. "Come on, the food is here and I'm famished."

Callie nodded, stuffed the phone into the pocket of her jeans and joined them in the kitchen, her thoughts occupied with Jack and the reasons behind his invitation to lunch. What if Blade had told him, what would he say? Would he greet her with disappointment on his face?

She talked herself into expecting it, for Jack's face to show anger or upset with her, but when she stepped into Bram's and noticed Jack among the few patrons occupying the red-and-white chequered tables, he didn't look out of the ordinary. She released a sigh of relief. She had been worrying for nothing.

His eyes found her and he stood up and waved to her, a smile on his face. "How are you, pumpkin?" he said after she reached the table. He pressed a kiss on her cheek, then sat back down in his chair.

"Fine." She hung her bag on the back of the chair and sat down.

"You look tired."

"That's why I needed a vacation."

"I thought it was because of Blade."

She tensed, but luckily she didn't have to reply since the waiter came and brought a bottle of water and a glass. He put them before her and withdrew.

"I already ordered for you; a bottle of water and lasagne. I hope you don't mind?" Jack said.

"No, I don't mind, I would have chosen the same."

"How have you been, pumpkin, now that you are on your own?" Jack set his elbows on the table.

"I can't really say that I'm on my own yet, since for now I'm only crashing at my friend's place." Callie took a sip of water.

"Which friend? Camden?"

"Yes."

"You could have waited to move until you found a place to rent."

"I couldn't."

"Because of Blade?"

"Well..."

"Since you have been gone, he's been moping around, trying to get me to tell him where you are. I better not tell him, huh?"

"It would be better if you didn't."

"What happened with you two?"

She had known that sooner or later he would bring that question up. "Nothing."

"If it were nothing, you wouldn't have moved out in such a hurry."

She pinched her earlobe.

"He thought that we were lovers."

Callie grimaced. She had asked Blade not to tell Jack that.

"You let him think that?"

"He didn't want to listen to me."

"He didn't want to listen to me, either. To have the gall to think that, to have such a low opinion of us... I'm against violence, but I punched him. And you should have, too, as soon as he opened his mouth and uttered that insulting nonsense." Jack shook his head then his brown eyes bored into her grey ones. "I told him, about your parents."

Callie leaned forward "How did he take it?"

"Not well, I'm afraid.

"He's not blaming himself, is he?" That was what Jack had been afraid of, that Blade would have started to reproach himself again, and this time not only for his mother's death, but also for the death of her parents.

"No, which I'm grateful for, but he's all over himself for not believing you." Jack reached out across the table and covered her hand. "Can you forgive him?"

"His accusation hurt, but he was the one who pushed me away, not the other way around." She gave him a smile.

"Something happened between the two of you. Not just this fight, but...You two have been acting differently." Jack studied her. "You have been acting differently."

Callie lowered her gaze and fixed it on the utensils wrapped into a napkin, lying in a small basket in the middle of the table.

"Callie, have you two by any chance become involved?"

"I'm sorry." Callie's pulled her hand from Jack's and folded it with the other in her lap. "I know I shouldn't have..." Her eyebrows furrowed. "I know that you entrusted me with his well being and I have gone and stepped over the line by starting to date him."

Jack chuckled. "Stepped over the line? You?"

Callie lifted her head.

"I'm very well aware that you have always been his first love and that it was just a matter of time before he made a move. Actually, I thought that he already had and that you turned him away," Jack said. "But it seems that you didn't turn him away, and this is a recent thing. When did it start? What did he do?"

Callie's fingers touched her earlobe.

"Don't be embarrassed, pumpkin."

"I'm not embarrassed."

"Then why are you blushing?"

Their food arrived; the waiter set the lasagne before Callie and spaghetti before Jack, wishing them, "Buon appetito."

"When did it start?" Jack repeated his question as he grabbed the utensils from the basket and unwrapped it. He set the napkin beside his plate. "Or is it a secret and something that you can't share with me?"

She took the utensils and lined them up with her plate. Should she tell him? "At your last visit."

"A month ago?" Jack scooped cheese from the container of parmesan and sprinkled it over his spaghetti, before he used spoon and fork to mix the pasta with the sauce. "I'm surprised that he was able to hold himself back for such a long time; I never thought he had so much patience."

"I thought you would be angry and disappointed." Callie said.

"But I am angry and disappointed; not at you, but at my good for nothing son. I never thought you would be interested in him, not that way, but since you are and since you two have gotten involved, he should at least take care not to lose you." Jack put the fork down and his hand again covered Callie's. "I'm a selfish old man. I want you to continue to live with us, I want you to be a part of our family forever, and you having a relationship with Blade would give me that. That is, if you love him."

"So you have nothing against it? But I thought..." She rubbed her cheek.

"I would never have anything against something that makes my two favourite people in the world happy." He patted her hand then took up his fork. "Do you think that my idiot son can make you happy?"

Right now, she was miserable because of Blade, but at the thought of being with him, of holding hands with him and seeing his smile, warmth washed over her and longing wedged itself in the pit of her stomach. She nodded.

A phone rang. Her phone.

"I'm sorry about that." She browsed through her bag until she found her phone. She pulled it out, ready to disconnect the call when she saw the name flashing on the phone's display. She glanced at Jack. "It's Blade." Now he knew the truth; that was probably why he was calling. She just had to answer it and he would probably tell her that he was sorry and that everything was okay. A smile curved her lips. "I better answer it." She was about to press the button when Jack stretched over the table, almost knocking over the glass of water as he pulled the phone out of her hands. "Jack?"

"Do you trust me?"

She pressed her mouth together, thinking. _No, not really_. "I guess."

"Good." He stood up.

"What are you going to do?" She stared at the phone in his hand that had continued to ring and she had to lace her fingers together to keep from reaching for it.

"I'll sort it all out. Trust me," Jack said before he walked away toward the entrance of the small restaurant, answering her phone.

But everything was already sorted out, wasn't it? She sighed. "What did you say to him?" she asked when he returned three minutes later, giving her the phone. She stared at it for a few seconds.

"I need you to promise me something." Jack sat behind the table.

"What?"

"That you won't answer his calls."

"But... Why not?" A crease cut into Callie's forehead. "Don't you want us to be happy?" Had he changed his mind now? But why?

"I do want you to be happy, but we need to teach that boy a lesson, something that he won't forget."

"I don't want to play games." She wanted to hear Blade's voice, to see him, to feel his arms around her and to hear him say how sorry he was and that he would never distrust her again. She missed him, so much.

"This is not a game. People, we are strange beasts, we never appreciate anything that comes to us with ease, no matter how valuable and precious those things are," Jack said. "Blade has always gotten everything, without any effort, but not this time. He will have to work this time, and I mean really work; only then will he appreciate you as you deserve. Why don't you eat? Eat, or your food will get cold."

"But.... " She put the phone away in her bag. "I don't want to... I mean, does he really need to be taught a lesson?" Couldn't she just forgive him and be done with it?

"Of course he does." Jack patted her hand. "Don't you worry about him. He will get what he wishes for, just not right away."

Chapter 16

A hallway with four white doors, two on each side. In the light coming from the two white squares above, Blade read the name tag under the peep-hole on the first door. No, this wasn't the one he was looking for. He moved to the next one. _James_. Yes, that was Camden's surname.

From the inner pocket of his biker jacket, he pulled out his phone and called Callie. As soon as he saw that connection was established, he put his ear against the door. He heard the hushed sound of what could be a phone's ringing. He straightened, cut the connection, put the phone back into his pocket and pressed the doorbell.

The sound of it echoed in the space behind the door before it faded into silence. The sound of steps followed by a voice asking, "Who is it?"

"Blade. I would like to talk to Callie."

A short pause before the doors opened for a crack and Camden stared at him from the other side of the door. "What if she isn't ready to talk to you?"

Blade's jaw locked and the desire to push Camden aside and to storm inside the apartment gripped his insides and twisted. He was jealous, he knew it, jealous because she had turned to Camden, not to him. As if she could turn to him when he was ignoring her, and not only that, he was the cause of her distress, something for which he needed to make amends. He swallowed his irritation. "I'll wait until she is."

Camden opened the door wider. "In here?"

"Or downstairs."

"It might take a day or two, or even more."

"I'll wait."

Camden took a step backwards and yelled over his shoulder, "He's saying that he's going to wait in the hallway."

"I don't want to cause her any problems. I just want to say how sorry I am, that's all."

"And he says that he's sorry," Camden added before he shut the door in Blade's face.

Blade moved to the opposite wall and leaned his back against it, ready for a long wait, but after a few minutes the door opened again.

"Come in," Camden said, and after Blade stepped inside, he used a foot to nudge a pair of slippers toward him. "It's the last door on the left." His eyes narrowed into a glare. "Don't make me regret letting you in."

"I won't."

"You better not." Camden turned his back on Blade and just before he walked through the last door on the right, he loudly said, "If you need me, just yell."

It was not meant just for Callie, Blade imagined, but it served as a warning: make one wrong move and I will be there, throwing you out. He glanced to the left, at the half-open door through which he could see the edge of a bed. _Callie is in there._ His heart started to flutter in his chest and something like fear crawled under his skin. He had acted like an insensitive ass and accused her of such a dreadful thing, and then on top of all that, he had shunned her and refused to listen to her. Would she ever be able to forgive him? He puffed out his cheeks and then exhaled in a long sigh.

_One way to find out_. He kicked off his tennis shoes, stepped into the slippers and strode to the last door on the left. A shadow moved on his right and when he looked down at it, he saw a white cat with patches of grey and orange sitting before the door of the living room, glaring at him. _Another one of Callie's guards?_ He faced the door. He knocked.

"Come in." She sounded timid and slightly breathless.

Blade pushed the door open. _Callie_. At the sight of her sitting on the edge of the bed, his chest filled with so much joy that his ribcage contracted in pain. It was hard to breathe, let alone talk, and all he wanted was to run to her, to fall on his knees before her and to wrap his arms around her. "Callie."

She lifted up her head and their eyes met.

His heart stopped and his breath caught. The sun beams coming from the window on her right cast a halo around her, making her look like a nymph that would vanish at any sudden move. He took a step forward and then another one; his feet met with an obstacle. He glanced down and saw a suitcase, a few clothes peeking from it.

"Blade?"

It was his fault that she was here. He was the one who had chased her out of the house that had been her home for the last ten years. He moved backward and pushed his hands into his pockets, so that they wouldn't reach for her. He had come to her with one purpose and that was to tell her how sorry he was for his behaviour. "I talked to Father; he told me about your parents."

She hung her head down, her fingers played with the edge of her too big cotton shirt. "I know."

"How could you not hate me? I'm the son of the woman who took your parents away from you."

"How could I, when you lost your parent, just like I did?"

She was too good, too pure, too wonderful. He felt burning in the corners of his eyes. "And then I go and act like a jerk." His blunt nails dug into the softness of his palm. "I'm sorry. I'm stupid and an idiot and I should have never..." He shook his head, a crease between his eyebrows. After he had learned from his father that she had moved into Camden's place, and before he came here, he had practised what he would say to her, he had even written it down somewhere, but now as he searched for those words all that he drew out was blankness. He wanted to pour out all of his love for her, and the fears and frustration that came with it; he wanted to apologize and to explain his idiocy, but all he had was 'I'm sorry.' "I always thought -- I don't know why -- that you and my father... Now that I think about it, it's stupid and I should have known that you two could never happen, but I just..." He hadn't been able to think rationally because of his jealousy.

"I understand."

Did she? "I ruined everything. I even drove you away." His eyes lowered to the suitcase. "Come home, please? Don't stay here, this is not..." He pressed his fingers against his forehead. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

She still had her gaze fixed at her lap, but the hand that had played with the edge of her shirt gathered the pink fabric and crushed it. "What about us?"

There was no _them_ , how could there be after everything he had done? But he hadn't lost hope yet, first he needed to convey to her how sorry he was, then she needed to return home, to the house she belonged in, and then he would slowly, baby step by baby step, woo her, show her how much she meant to him. "If you..." He swallowed the lump that wedged in his throat, but the thing refused to go down. "If you can't stand me around, I'll move out."

"Move out?" Callie echoed, she lifted her eyes. "You would leave?"

"It's as much your home as it is mine and since I was the one being an ass, it's only right that I should leave, not you."

"I could never \-- you jerk." She pinched her lips and her fists punched the bed and the back of her legs kicked the bed as if she were a small child having a tantrum before she reclined backward and covered her head with her arm. "Such a jerk, what the heck?"

"Callie?" He took one hesitate step forward.

"Darn you."

His mouth curled up on its own. "Damn me."

"Talking about leaving." She rolled onto her side, curled into a ball and covered her face with her hands. "You are ruining everything."

"I am?"

She nodded.

He squatted down before the bed and touched her leg. "How can I make it right?"

She peeked at him.

"Tell me, how I can make it right, please."

"You should have said that you are sorry, promise that you will never make me cry again and tell me that you love me." The words came out in a rushed murmur, soft, barely audible.

He had made her cry. He had known that, but hearing her say it pained him more than his father's punch in the gut. _I'll make everything right. I will_. He shifted onto his knees and rested his cheek against her leg. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I have been such an inconsiderate bastard and that I have hurt you. I wish I could promise that it will never happen again, but all I can do is promise that I will never intentionally hurt you. Never. I don't want you to cry because of me." Not that kind of crying, anyway. His hand found hers and he laced their fingers. "I love you and seeing you hurt and unhappy makes me hurt and unhappy, too."

"You didn't want to listen to me and you ignored me. You even shut the door in my face."

He straightened; with one hand still holding onto her, with his free hand he pulled her fingers away from her face, then curled it around her wrist and tugged her upwards and toward him until she sat before him. He lowered himself onto his heels, his face serious and his eyebrows furrowed. "I'm sorry. I don't have any excuses. I was unreasonable and I'll try to make it up to you. Just come home, please."

"You said that you love me." She refused to make eye contact with him.

"Yes. Since forever."

She murmured something.

"What is that?" He leaned closer; looking up at her he tried to meet her gaze. It sounded like 'I love you, too.' But had she really said it or had he only imagined it since it was something he had longed to hear for so long, now?

"I love you, too," she repeated it, this time slightly louder, her eyes still averted.

Yes, she had said 'I love you' and it was like the world stopped for a moment to bask in the light of joy that painted his insides like fireworks in sparks of white, yellow, red, blue and green, making him hot and cold at the same time. He cupped her face and gently forced her to face him. "I love you. I love you so much. Can you forgive me?"

She nodded.

"Can you really forgive me?" He drew her down into his lap.

She nodded again.

"Does that mean that you will come home with me?"

Another nod.

Then he was kissing her, his mouth trailing over her face, her neck and down her arm, over her thin shirt. He took hold of her hand and pressed his lips against the inside of her wrist, feeling the flutter of her pulse. "I love you."

She hooked an arm around his neck, forcing him to straighten. Her face swam out of focus; her lips descended on his and her tongue darted out. The wet caress touched his mouth and then it was sliding against his, pulling him into a delicious dance that increased his body temperature.

He wanted to stop, he really did, but how could he when she kissed him like that and with her fingers in his hair and the way she pressed her body against his, he was lost. It was like they were caught in a storm of desire. He gently nudged her away, his breath rushed. "We have to stop, we really have to stop."

"Bed," she breathed out while her hands tugged his jacket down and then went under his black shirt.

"Callie, really..."

"Bed, now, please." Her palms glided up his chest, pushing his shirt up. She shifted closer and the softness of her lips touched his nipple.

In two swift moves he had her on the bed, underneath him. Somehow he found himself without a shirt and with his pants unzipped, while her hands stroked his chest and his shoulders. How had that happened?

Her palms slid over his side to his back while her lips painted wet trails across his chest.

His fingers dug into her hair while the fingers of his other hand caressed every part of her skin that he could reach.

"Condom." She kicked off her pants.

There had to be something in his wallet and with some fumbling, and some panic that it might not be there, he pulled the wallet out of the pocket of his jeans and found the condom. He clumsily tore the wrapper and put it on while she wiggled under him, shifting until she had him nestled between her legs.

The shirt she wore was pulled up, together with her bra, exposing her breasts and the soft curve of her tummy. Her cheeks glowed light pink.

Her beauty took his breath away and he froze above her for a moment, drinking in the sight of her, burning it into his memory.

Her arms embraced him and pulled him down for a kiss.

Their mouths touched at the same time he felt the curves of her breast against his chest and then he was inside her, moving, drowning in her, in the pleasure only she could deliver. Just being inside her felt overwhelming, as if the bubble of happiness expanding in his chest would burst any second now, and all that would be left were scattered pieces of him.

His hands glided over her sides. Their kiss ended and a new one began, his mouth catching the throaty moans that followed every one of his plunges, the moans that heated his insides, that pushed him higher and higher and higher.

Her nails cut into his back.

The perspiration dampened his hairline and the curve of his spine. He loved her, so much. Without her in his life, the world would lose its colours and its shine, because she had brought them as she waltzed into his life, with her sad eyes and fake, brave smile, but with such warm and genuine hugs, the ones that had melted his wall of ice.

Their kiss ended and she hid her face in the niche between his shoulder and neck, her breath hot against his skin.

He wrapped his arms tightly around her and pressed her closer to his heart, because that was where she was, in his heart, always, while he buried his face in her brown hair, deeply inhaling her scent. The tension in him climbed higher and higher still until she convulsed around him, tightening almost painfully, and a short sob brushed his skin. He followed her into the light to return back to reality with laboured breath, and with a joy that tightened his chest.

He rolled them onto their sides, got rid of the condom then, after her reached over her to grab the edge of the cover to pull it over them, he held her in his arms again. He pulled down her shirt. "I love you," he whispered to her, panting.

She made a sound of acknowledgement and snuggled closer to him.

"No 'I love you too'?" He combed the strands of hair off her face.

"Maybe later."

"Okay." He smiled.

"And you don't deserve it, anyway." She yawned. "Jack said that you need to be taught a lesson and that you get everything too easily." Another yawn. "That you won't appreciate me if I don't make you work hard for my forgiveness."

"I appreciate you, very much, I always have. I was just... it was just a moment of delusion on my part. I guess jealousy can do that to me." His hand slid over her back and he entangled his legs with hers. "Father made me pay for it. I had to suffer three hours of his lectures before he told me where you were. But the hardest part... The hardest part was..." He swallowed and tightened his embrace. "Not knowing where you were. How you were. I went to The Delight, but you weren't there. Then I followed Camden and Rose, and you weren't with them, either."

"I mostly stayed inside."

"And you never picked up any of my calls. I think that got me the most; knowing that I had hurt you to the point that you moved out and refused to take my calls."

She shifted higher and pressed a kiss on his cheek. "We are okay, now."

"Yes, we are okay now." He smiled down at her.

The door burst open and Rose fell into the room, yelling, "Are you decent?"

"No, we are not." Callie pulled the blanket higher, her nose and cheeks peeking out from above the cover glowing red. "Get out."

Camden followed Rose inside the room.

"This is so embarrassing," Callie hissed under her breath before she again demanded that her friends leave the room. They ignored her.

"Do you mind?" Blade protectively tucked Callie under his arm.

"Actually, we do mind." Rose crossed his arm. "You made my friend cry and mope and we had to listen to _Stay_ all the time because of you." She glowered at Blade and pointed her finger at him. "If you ever make my friend cry again, I'm going to rip you apart and Camden is going to feed your liver to Patchy."

"Who's Patchy?" Blade in low voice asked Callie.

"Camden's cat," Callie whispered.

"Did you hear me?"

"Yes, I heard you. I promise that I will do my best not to make Callie cry."

"That's not good enough." Rose's gaze darkened.

"We are holding you personally responsible for her happiness," Camden said.

"I will do everything to assure it."

"You'd better." Rose wiggled her finger.

"I understand." Blade nodded.

"Can you get out now, already, please?" Callie said.

"No, I have to \--"

"Yes, of course." With his hand, Camden covered Rose's mouth and started to drag her toward the door, ignoring the flapping of her arms as she tried to free herself.

Rose stopped fighting against Camden's grip; instead she made a slicing gesture across her neck while she scowled at Blade.

"You better change the sheets after you are done," Camden said before they disappeared through the doorway and the door shut behind them.

"They are so embarrassing."

"They love you."

"Yes, they do. But they are too much," Callie complained.

"They are worried." But they didn't have to be, because he had already sworn to himself that he would do anything in his power to make Callie happy. "Maybe someday you will be able to return the favour."

"Oh, yes, I will." A grin stretched her mouth and she nuzzled against him. "But right now, I just want to enjoy my time with you." She blushed.

He kissed the top of her head. "Me too. Me too."

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**Everything You Want 2 ~ excerpt** :

Blade turned another page in his textbook. It was Sunday afternoon and he had been studying for the exam he had on Monday. "When is your shift over tomorrow?"

"At three." Usually he only had to look on the refrigerator door to see her working schedule for the upcoming week, but she hadn't put it up yet. "Why?"

"So I know when to pick you up." He sat and set the book face down on the coffee table. He faced her, his hand found hers and he laced their fingers. "Then afterwards, do you want to go somewhere?"

"Where?"

"On a date. We haven't been on one since..." His forehead wrinkled and his brown eyes lowered to their hands. "Since I made a mess of things and showed you what an ass I can be."

"It's okay." She gave him a small smile.

The eyes that lifted to hers looked troubled. "Is it?"

"You know that it is." She reassuringly squeezed his fingers. "I have already told you I have forgiven you." She had forgiven him as soon as she heard from Jack, Blade's father, that Blade had been looking for her to make amends.

"I know." He carried their hands to his mouth and kissed her palm, the brush of his mouth sending sizzles up her spine.

"I was never able to stay mad at you for long." She shifted closer and wrapped her arm around his neck. She trailed her fingers down his spine then up again.

"I know that too."

She pulled her legs under her and then lifted herself onto her knees to move even closer to him. She cupped his neck, smiling. "You have always been able to wrap me around your little finger."

"I don't want to wrap you around my little finger." He pinched his eyebrows together into a scowl. "That was never my intention."

Now it was her turn to say, "I know."

His forehead smoothed and he gave her another small, soft smile.

Her eyes lowered to his lips. He had such a beautiful mouth.

"I love you."

"I know." Her thumb touched the corner of his mouth then followed the curve of his lower lip.

His hand brushed down her leg before he curled his fingers around it and guided it over his lap so that she straddled him. "And you love me too?"

"Very much."

"Even though I can be such a jerk?" His hand glided up her hip and then went to her back.

"Yes." She flashed him a smile.

"Are you sure?"

"Very sure." There was an expression of uncertainty on his face, something that looked so out of place on him. She needed to change the subject. "So a date, huh?"

"That's the plan." He rested both of his hands on her hips. "What do you say we repeat our first date? Take a walk toward the river bank and have a picnic there."

"I would like that." Her hand slipped over his shoulder to his well-developed biceps and then back to his neck to caress the side of it. "I'll grab some food at the coffee shop, so you don't have to worry about that."

"That sounds good." His pressed a kiss on her temple, then smiled down at her.

She cupped his cheeks. She took a few seconds to stare at him, at his eyes. She loved his warm brown eyes and the fact that whenever they were gazing back at her. they told her how much he loved and cherished her. He had always looked at her this way, but until he had kissed her for the first time, she hadn't been aware of it, or even able to see it. It was that look that made it so easy for her to forgive him. As long as he continued to gaze at her like that, she would probably forgive him anything.

"What?"

She kissed him, lightly, just a brush of her mouth before she pushed herself away from him and stood. "I'm going to get ready for sleep."

"It's early yet."

"It is. But you need to study. Remember, you have an exam tomorrow."

He caught her hand. "That doesn't mean that you have to leave."

"I'm only distracting you. Besides, I'm planning to have a nice long bath."

"Maybe I'll join you." He swung their hands.

"You're welcome to."

"Can I come to your room later?"

"Of course." She smiled, pressed a small, chaste kiss on his lips before she walked to the door, into the hallway and then up the stairs. The smile she wore faded off her face, her step slowed down and her fingers dug into the wood of the railing, scratching its polish. He had never asked her for permission to come to her room before she had moved away and now he was asking for it every night. She was used to him barging into her room uninvited. It was a habit he had since she had become a member of the Waldwell household ten years ago. She didn't mind it and when she did, she either locked her door, or threw him out. But now, he was putting a distance between them, tiptoeing around her, thinking she needed space.

She reached her room and stepped inside, curving her lips upwards. It didn't matter if there was distance between them. He loved her. Going slow and asking for permission to join her in her room was his way of trying to make it up to her. Something he needed to do to forgive himself. There was nothing to worry about. They had a date tomorrow. They would be strolling across the city streets, holding hands. Knowing him, he would try to steal a kiss or two and even grope her.

The smile on her face widened. Why was she even worrying? There was nothing to be worried about. Except what she was going to wear tomorrow. She rushed to the wardrobe and browsed through the clothes, trying to pick something that would look nice and be comfortable, since she would be working, but without looking as if she was trying too hard.

* * * * *

OTHER BOOKS BY EVELYN LYES:

**Everything You Desire** is a (59.000 words/180 pages long) contemporary romance.

Sometimes a lie can unite and the truth divide.

When 22 year old Rose Gray meets her friend and neighbour's brother, Kalen, she feels something she has never felt before: attraction.

Kalen has heard a lot about her from his brother, and is shocked to find that far from being annoying and over the top as he had imagined, Rose is one cute kitty. And he has a soft spot for kitties.

When Rose discovers that Kalen is an escort, she hires him to pose as her boyfriend to get her matchmaking mother off her back once and for all. The relationship is mutually beneficial: She pretends to be his girlfriend to appease his meddling grandmother.

But when business becomes pleasure, will Kalen be able to risk the love he feels for Rose by telling her the truth about who he is? Because Rose has a secret of her own, and his revelation might just divide them forever.

**Everything You Need** is a (73.000 words/220 pages long) contemporary romance.

Sometimes you have to put your heart on the line.

Artist Ashton Langton makes no promises; women fall at his feet and he enjoys them without remembering their names the next day. Haunted by his past, he refuses to allow himself to get close to anyone, until he encounters Kris, the living image of his childhood sweetheart. He has to paint her, to sculpt her, to have her.

Against her better judgement, Kris Mayer accepts Ashton's request to model for him. The more time she spends with him, the more she falls for him, despite knowing their relationship can only last as long as her modelling job. When Kris tries to cut her ties to Ashton, he has no intention of letting her get away, ruining his plan to make her fall head over heels for him.

But fate intervenes, threatening not only their love, but also Ashton's life.

**Everything You Love** is a (10.000 words/30 pages long) contemporary romance.

Sometimes love is forever.

Young heiress Isabella Thornton is in love with her bodyguard, Andrew. He is everything to her: her protector, her hero and the object of her sexual fantasies. But he will never be what she wants most: her lover.

Twelve years ago Andrew prevented Isabella from being kidnapped, and he hasn't left her side since. She's the only woman he has ever wanted, but as a member of a prestigious wealthy family, she's out of his reach. But in a moment of recklessness, Andrew's self control slips and they kiss.

Andrew vows to never again make the mistake of risking his position by her side, but Isabella has a plan and isn't willing to accept anything less than a future with the man who is everything she loves.

**Everything Halloween Special** is a (6.000 words/18 pages long) contemporary romance.

Rose is enjoying her lovey-dovey life with the man of her dreams, Kalen. Right now there's only one intrusion on her happiness, talk of marriage. She loves Kalen, but she's not ready to get married, too afraid that marriage will change them. But when she and Kalen take a vacation to an old Victorian mansion that turns out to be anything but what she expected, she discovers that marriage is the least of her worries and that whatever happens, she's willing to do anything to be with Kalen, no matter what he changes into.

**Everything Christmas Special** is a (8.500 words/26 pages long) contemporary romance.

Kris has been enjoying living with her supportive boyfriend, Ashton, for months now. But her mother's return from rehab brings new stress into their home, and her mother's constant bickering with Ashton puts their relationship under a strain that Kris is afraid might become too much even for him. Her worst fears are realized four days before Christmas when, after another of her mother's tantrums, Ashton packs his things and leaves. Kris is not used to fighting for what she holds dear, but if she doesn't learn to fight for Ashton's love -- and soon -- she very well might lose it.

**Everything You Can't Have** is a (5.000 words/15 pages long) contemporary romance.

Sometimes good things come to those who wait.

For just three days a year, coffee shop worker Andy gets to spend time with her lover, Shaun. She loves him with every fibre of her being, but with his busy and dangerous career, she is convinced that for him she is nothing but a distraction he can't afford to have.

Shaun regrets the day he let Andy break off their relationship. Since three days a year is no longer enough for him, he has an announcement for her: some things are about to change, and it might seem that everything she thinks can't have will soon be within her reach.

**Everything Valentine's Day Special** is a (6.400 words/18 pages long) contemporary romance.

Heiress Isabella Thornton is looking forward to her wedding with her bodyguard and lover Andrew Bladford. But Isabella's dictatorial grandmother has allied with the wedding planner to put on the wedding of a lifetime, and together they're draining Isabella's joy. With time, eloping is looking more and more like the perfect solution. Isabella has to decide whether she's willing to disappoint her grandmother, and her entire family, to have the wedding of her dreams.

**Everything You Want to Forget** is a (10.000 words/30 pages long) contemporary romance.

Sometimes old flame can't be put out.

Ten years had passed since the end of the high school and Helen Elliot is now a successful confident business woman, who goes to the class reunion for one reason only. To prove herself that she has got over the boy who took her heart and then shattered it. But all it takes is one look at James Conroy for her to be lost under his spell again. She sleeps with him and then tries to get away from him, afraid that he's going to break her heart for second time, but this time, he chases after her and she has nowhere to hide.

**Everything You Are** is a (88.000 words/280 pages long) contemporary romance with elements of suspense.

Sometimes a reckless moment of passion changes everything.

Ian Thornton has it all; wealth, looks, a brilliantly successful career – and any woman he wants. Until a demure Jane walks into his life as his new assistant. Even though trouble is brewing at Thornton Enterprises, throwing his life into chaos – and even though his type is confident buxom blondes – he finds himself unable to stop thinking and lusting about his new assistant.

When sensible Jane Bennet accepts the job offer from Thornton Enterprises, she doesn't expect to be working for the owner's son, a man who looks like a Viking god, and acts like one. But despite Ian being irritatingly arrogant and entitled, she's drawn to him, so much that she ends up in his bed. It's an encounter Ian doesn't even remember and one Jane won't ever forget. A month later, she discovers she's pregnant.

Thornton's business troubles lead to lethal consequences and pose a frightening danger to their unborn child. Like it or not – and she doesn't – Jane must look to her arrogant boss to protect her and their unborn baby.

**Everything You Do: The Complete Serial** is a BBW contemporary romance with elements of bondage. Part 1 is available on e-retailers for free and can be read as a standalone.

Everything You Do 1:

Sometimes you have to fight for what you want.

Because of his good looks, charming personality, and wealth, Christopher Thornton can have any woman he sets his eyes on. The only woman he can't have is Suzanne Hold, who is his business partner and co-owner of their modelling agency, and who is different from the models they work with in every way. Trauma from his past drives him to possess and dominate, with no hope of a real relationship, especially with an older woman like Suzanne. But when Suzanne hands him her resignation and decides to walk out of his life, he has to overcome his past and fight for his love, or lose the only woman that has ever meant anything to him.

Everything You Do 2

Suzanne Hold is the co-owner of a well-known modelling agency and now she is dating her business partner and best friend Christopher Thornton, the man she has been in love with for ten years. Living together and having his love is everything Suzanne ever wanted, but Christopher's dominant side, and the attention other women give him, are bringing to the surface a past Suzanne has fought hard to forget.

When Christopher notices her distress, she must somehow convince him her pain is not his fault, or watch him walk away in a stubborn effort to save her.

Everything You Do 3

It has been two months since Christopher Thornton left Suzanne Hold, the only woman he had ever loved, and he has to remind himself daily that walking away from her was the best thing for her or he would have rushed to her and demanded she take him back. But then the appearance of strange men in black suits watching Suzanne's modelling agency and her apartment bring him back to her side, at least until the threat is eliminated. This time, he doesn't know if he will have enough will power to leave her for the second time.

Everything You Do 4

Suzanne Hold is together with Christopher Thornton again, determined that this time their relationship will last. They are on their first vacation as a couple, to which Suzanne had been looking forward to for quite a while. But she hadn't counted on their tour guide being a girl who had been Christopher's admirer since she had saw him in a perfume ad and who believed that because she was young, pretty and skinny, Christopher will prefer her over Suzanne.

