Skylar's POV

Once Mom and Dad had left for the wedding, I wasted the entire day watching movies with Chicken and painting.

I suppose my little talk with Mom had made me panic a little. I hadn't yet applied to any colleges and that was a bit worrisome. Painting was something I loved doing. This was something I wanted. Mom didn't know, neither did she understand that. I worried about ever showing her my collection of paintings. How would she react?

Chicken rolled one of the paint tubes towards me--a yellow shade. I guess she'd already grown bored watching me paint for hours now. So I got up and picked another movie, a black and white one, and Chicken seemed to settle at that. Content with her ball of yarn.

It was way past midnight by now--hours since my parents had left. If they were to come back and see the mess I had made in the lounge since then, Mom would freak the fuck out and might even kick me out of this house. Just saying.

I somehow found myself thinking about Cole again. He'd been one of my closest childhood friends back when we lived at our old house. His parents and my parents were great friends--still are--along with them being our neighbours too. The only problem was that I had a huge crush on him. And he'd always considered me as his little sister.

It sucked, I know.

Sitting on this couch, in my pyjamas, and painting was way nicer than seeing my old crush getting married. To my cousin, may I add. What were the fucking chances?

I used to go to every single neighbourhood party (slash those stupid gatherings) just so I could be near Cole. He was the guy every girl dreamed of. Looks, personality and everything else. How was I not supposed to like him?

It wasn't like I could've held a grudge against my cousin though. The last time I'd seen Cole was so long ago. He might've probably forgotten me already.

It took me by surprise when I heard the doorbell ringing. Looking up from the painting at hand, for a whole minute, I remained seated on the couch, my gaze stuck on the front door. Chicken didn't jump down from the couch either, almost as if she knew the dreadful thought going through my head right then.

What if it's Alex?

If he came around my house once, he could probably come by again. I didn't move until Chicken let out a loud meow, hopping down from the couch.

I'd have to face him one way or another.

Pausing the movie on the television, I carefully placed the canvas on the couch, stood up and headed for the front door. Then I cautiously opened it. Only to find Caden standing on the other side, right in front of me.

"Hey." I trailed off in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

He was once again dressed all in black. Except there was no leather jacket this time; he was wearing a dark black sweater that went perfectly well with his dishevelled hair. Just looking at his face made me have this sudden urge to yawn.

Right from my peripheral vision, I saw Jenna standing at her bedroom window, apparently talking on her phone. She also had her hawk-like gaze on me and my front yard.

And Caden too.

I was so not in a mood to deal with Jenna's peeping tendencies right now. A lot exhausted too. The guy who'd kissed me a few days back was standing right in front of me, and Jenna was about to start rumours.

Caden opened his mouth to say something, but I spoke up first.

"You should come inside quick." I made this vague (very not noticeable) gesture towards Jenna. "I don't want to smash her fucking skull."

Caden seemed confused, to say the least. He stared at me for a few seconds before stepping inside. I closed the door behind me.

"Whose fucking skull?" He asked.

"Jenna's," I answered, then went towards the curtains and pulled them shut as well. I didn't trust her, not one bit. That girl really had no manners.

"As much as I'd loved to see that--"

"I was just kidding, ew." I turned around to frown at him. And he was close. Standing really close. I cleared my throat and looked up into his eyes.

"I might've been too, Anderson." His eyes slowly darted between my own. Soft and tired and so beautiful.

"Mhm." I made a sound at the back of my throat, pursing my lips. I wanted to touch him.

Caden gave me a look--a look that didn't help my sudden desires in the very least. "I know why Alex joined his gang." He spoke up, and I had to blink twice to actually register his words. "Blake's gang."

"You do?" I frowned a little, then crossed my arms. "Why? Why did he?"

"He lost a bet." He told me. "A...really complicated one, as far as I know. He'd been showing up at underground rings. Did you know that?"

"Underground rings?" I whispered.

"Fighting rings." Caden's eyes were searching my face again. For what, I didn't know. "Did you know that?"

No, I thought. I didn't know that. I hadn't known a lot.

Inhaling a deep sigh, I sidestepped him and moved back towards the couch, playing the movie again.

"I didn't know that," I told Caden when he sat down beside me, his eyes curiously trailing across the mess my lounge was in that moment. "I suppose I knew a lot less about Alex than I thought I did."

Why hadn't I noticed? I thought, staring down at the unfinished canvas in front of me. Alex was right there, everyday, yet I hadn't noticed a single thing.

"Don't beat yourself up." His eyes were on me again, still a little too curious. "If it were up to me, Anderson, he'd be dead already."

My eyes widened. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Not really."

I picked up a cushion and threw it at him. He didn't bother dodging it. "No, he's my best friend," I told him. "You won't hurt him, promise me."

"I would promise you." He smiled, and God, I could've kissed the life out of him right then. "But I suck at keeping them."

I shook my head at him.

"I know where he's staying." He added.

Not at his house. I'd gone there and paced across his backyard for hours. His Mom had finally taken some pity on me and told me he was staying over at a friend's.

"Must be taking refuge at Blake's," I muttered and rubbed my thumb over the yellow, dried paint.

"Precisely." He replied, raking a hand through his hair and pushing them back from his forehead. "Try not going after him at the moment."

"I wasn't going to."

"'Course, you weren't." He tipped his head back against the couch.

"I wasn't."

Caden wasn't staring at me but up at the ceiling. It gave me plenty of time to stare too.

"You make trash decisions on a daily basis, Skylar." He said then. "Imagine the kind of decisions you'd make when you're hurt. Which you are."

I furrowed my brows, picked up the cushion I'd just thrown at him, then threw it back at him.

"That," I said, "wasn't very nice of you."

The lazy smile he directed at me was worth every single thing in this whole entire world. I could've stared at him all day.

"You've got some paint on this," Caden said, holding up the cushion I'd just thrown at him (again).

My eyes widened in horror. "Really?" I made a move to grab it, probably pour the glass of water on it which was right on the coffee table beside me, but Caden held it out of the way.

"And on the couch too." He added.

"Where?"

"Everywhere."

I started putting my paints away because even if Caden was totally shitting with me right now, I did not want to take any chances and let my parents freak out about paint splotches on our family couch.

"Your clothes too."

I gave him an annoyed look. "Can you stop fueling my anxiety?"

"I was just saying." He smirked a little. "You should perhaps take them off too."

I gaped at him, frowned, then went back to cleaning up my paint materials. How was I not supposed to overthink his words?

While I tried picking up the paintbrushes carefully, Chicken came by my feet and I tried shooing her away.

"Where are your parents?" Caden asked me.

"A wedding," I mumbled before going over to the kitchen and throwing the paintbrushes in the sink. I watched as they left a trail of beautifully coloured paint all around it. I was so going to be dead if Mom were to see this.

"Shouldn't you be with them?" He asked when I joined him back on the couch. "Why aren't you?"

I forced my gaze at the screen, the movie halfway done and so not interesting. Even Chicken seemed done with it.

"Well." I started but decided that it would be better if I stopped right there. There was a heavy chance that I might not stop if I started ranting for good.

"Well?"

I slumped back on the couch.

"The wedding is of a friend. I used to be friends with him." I stopped, peeking at Caden. And when I saw him about to say something, I interrupted, "And I had this very huge crush on him back when I was...ten, I guess. Or maybe since I was born."

Caden turned his eyes on me and I felt my cheeks heating up. This was bad. Why did I have to word vomit on the worst occasions?

Confessing about your childhood crushes was so humiliating. One of those situations where you just wanted to dig a hole and bury yourself alive.

"But I had a crush on him. And seeing him getting married to a girl, who's not me, is weird." I continued anyway. Like I said, word vomit. "Very weird."

Caden didn't say anything and listened to me intently. Maybe because he knew that I may have just cut him off again.

"Not like I still like him," I added in quickly. "But back then, I liked him and there's still a part inside me that likes him. Or well, liked him." I didn't even know what I was saying at this point. I was talking shit.

Blowing out a huge sigh, I leaned my head back against the couch and looked up at the ceiling.

"How awkward would it have been if I went to his wedding. He would've probably ruffled my hair like he used to do when we were kids." I finally looked at Caden and his expression was something I couldn't really pinpoint. "He used to always think of me as his sister. Like what kind of guy does that?"

I looked back at the ceiling.

"My poor heart feels broken." I murmured. "It feels like I had a celebrity crush and he died."

I stopped talking then, mainly because I knew I had said too much and it was embarrassing. I was also kind of expecting Caden to be a little compassionate and say something nice after that. Seconds passed by in silence when he finally decided to speak up.

"Well, he must not like you a bit if it's that harsh."

I eyed him in disbelief, crossing my legs and facing him. "I'm not even going to point out how comforting that was."

His lips quirked up at the corners. "You just did."

I did my best to ignore him, but it proved to be really difficult.

"What you should've done was tell me how sorry you were for me. Or how I deserve much better. Or..." I trailed off and pointed at the TV screen where the guy was holding the girl as she cried in his arms. "...you could've done that and told me that everything will be fine!"

Caden looked over where I was pointing and kept on smirking.

"Cole was such a Prince Charming." I sighed.

"Who's Cole again?"

"The dude who's getting married!"

"I see that you have a thing for Prince Charming," He spoke up. "And vampires."

I was once again scratching the ends of the painted canvas. A really bad habit, I know. "They both seem a whole lot better than you." Did I mean it? No.

"What about bad boys?" He asked, leaning extra close towards me. "You have a thing for them too?"

I looked up at him and my eyes widened a little when I noticed his face inches away from my own. I hadn't even noticed him nearing.

"Of course...not."

I swallowed and my eyes traitorously fell to the smirk still lingering on his lips. I could've never imagined how it felt like to want something so badly. To kiss someone so badly. Not until him.

"Really?" He asked and I looked up in his eyes--the same green eyes which glinted a bit dangerously. Wild. He wanted something and I sure as heck wasn't going to say no. "And here I thought you really adored them."

My breath halted when I saw him carefully pushing the canvas aside (which I guess, wasn't careful at all since it fell right down the couch and onto the carpet) and nearing me.

"You did not just..." The words just vanished from my tongue when his hand slid into my hair, pulling my head to the side, his lips finding the base of my neck. Soft and slow and so fucking torturous.

"Yes, I did." He whispered into my ear, his other hand pulling me closer by my waist. "I've been meaning to do just that since I showed up at your door."

My hands fisted in the soft material of his sweater. "Throw my...painting away?" I breathed out as he kissed me down my throat.

"Kiss you." He corrected me, leaving a hot, open-mouthed kiss near my collarbone. "Taste you." He pulled my hair clip away and threw it on the carpet too. My hair fell freely over my shoulders. "Make you forget everything around you."

I was unwinding fast under his hands and lips and touch alone. "You're...bad at this." So fucking good.

"So bad." He mused, grabbing my waist and pushing me down on the couch, crawling over me.

"Not a Prince Charming."

He pulled me down by my hips until his face was looming over my own. The roguish look in his eyes did make me forget about every possible thing on this goddamn planet. All except for him, apparently.

His lips hovered over my own and I grasped his sweater, pulling him down. And the kiss was just as amazing as all his kisses were. They made me feel insane in the most fucking breathtaking way.

"I did try." He murmured against my lips. "But then I saw you so stupidly covered in paint." His hand slipped inside my shirt. "Pining over a guy." I felt so hot. "And I couldn't pretend anymore."

I laughed and softly tugged on a lock of his hair. "That's unfortunate. I think I got some paint in your hair."

He pulled back an inch, only to close the distance the next second, placing a soft kiss at one corner of my lips. Then on the tip of my nose. And then my cheek. All in all, I was left a giddy mess. A wild mess. So much so, that I'm pretty sure I forgot who Cole was even.

When Caden pulled away again, I saw something flickering in his eyes. A sort of holding back. What was he holding back?

"You do know this won't be so easy, right?" He asked.

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

"This." His eyes ran over my face. "The way you make me feel."

"Why...why can't it be easy?" I asked him, my fingers going still in his hair.

I think he was about to pull away. But he didn't. I didn't like the sudden seriousness.

"Don't you--"

"I really like you, Sky. So damn much." He interrupted.

My eyes widened a little at that. But at the same time, I knew there was a but in there somewhere.

"But doing this might only hurt you." He said. I didn't think I had ever heard him sound like that, so unsure as if conflicted between his own thoughts. Caden Miller was always certain about everything. He never faltered. It worried me a bit.

"So we shouldn't?" I asked him in a whisper, furrowing my brows. "We shouldn't do this?"

He pulled away and pulled me up in a sitting position. My heart was racing as I stared at him with wide, uncertain eyes.

"I don't think I can do that." He told me. Then he ran both of his hands across his face, looking a little frustrated now. "I've been meaning to do that. I tried so fucking hard, Sky. But you're...I don't think I can be near you and not kiss you at the same time."

I blinked in relief, something warm spreading through my chest. He looked like he wanted to say more so I waited.

"There are some things," He started. "Which I can't tell you yet. And for that same reason, we need to keep this private."

I tried hiding my surprise, but it must've been obvious on my face since his green eyes softened a bit. "Trust me, Sky. I don't want to hurt you more than I already have. I'm trying to protect you."

"How?" My voice came out in just a whisper.

He tensed at that, shaking his head a little. "It could get worse than just break-ins. You'd be at risk if Blake finds out about this." The look in his eyes told me that he wasn't just saying that to scare me.

His voice fell to a whisper, almost as if he had meant to say it to himself only, "That's the only risk I don't want to take."

I looked down at my hands, thinking, then back up at him.

"All right." I breathed out. "I think I can do that."

He blinked and his tensed shoulders relaxed the moment he heard me say that. Almost as if he had been expecting the worst. I guess we both did sometimes.

Then he nodded, yanked me closer and closer and in his arms, holding me tight. I slowly relaxed against him, against this foreign feeling.

It will be fine, I thought. I trusted him. I think I really did. He liked me and he wouldn't hurt me. I didn't think he would. And even if it saddened me that he didn't want anyone to know about this, I was still more than fine with it. It would hurt a lot more if he pushed me away. I didn't want that.

This alone made me happy. More than anything.

"So are you staying?" I asked him after a while, pulling away only to look up at him. Glancing over at the clock, I realized that it was two after midnight already.

"I don't think I should."

"Oh, you should." I grinned. "Most definitely."

His eyes held amusement in them. "Why, are we going to sleep?"

"Obviously."

"I think you sleep a lot, Anderson."

I rolled my eyes at the genuine hint of tease in his voice. This guy may like me, but no way in hell was he ever going to keep out his rude comments, especially when my sleep was concerned.

"When was the last time you slept?" I splayed my hand across his chest, pushing him back a little so that he'd actually look at me.

"A very long time ago." He simply replied.

I couldn't help but frown at that. Where was he even staying for this long? "Where were you--"

"You know what?" He cut me off and stood up, pulling me along with him. "I'll stay."

That alone made me forget what I had been about to ask. "You will?"

"Yeah. On one condition."

I'm sure I knew what that condition was. I was not supposed to ask about his whereabouts again--which I'm sure wouldn't get me to stop thinking about it.

"I get to sleep with you."

Oh, well.

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Xoxo,

Crystal 🌿