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“Jesus Christ, Caitlin. The damn pills. Swallow the damn pills.”
In slow-motion, she follows her orders, her drunk eyes focused on me the entire time, and her pink-stilettoed feet swinging back and forth against the lower cabinets. “Stop doing that,” she tells me softly.
I scrub my hand down my face, absolutely fucking exhausted as I stand in front of her. “Doing what, Cait?”
“Looking at me the way you are.” Her voice softens. “The way you used to.”
Shit.
“Caitlin . . .”
She reaches her hand out and rests it against my chest. “You gonna ask me what I wished for, Callen?”
I don’t answer. I can’t.
But as if tethered to her, I feel myself being reeled in and move closer.
“I wished?—”
“Don’t.” I press my thumb over her lips, silencing her.
Big fucking mistake.
She presses her lips against the pad of my thumb before her tongue darts out.
“You’re drunk, Caitlin.”
I’m a goddamned beast, I’m so strong, but turning this woman down takes more strength than I ever could have hoped to have. And I’m pretty sure she can see it on my face.
“I miss you, Callen.”
Like a dagger to the heart, she strikes hard and fast, knowing exactly what she’s doing.
“I’m right here,” I say the words, even as I take a step back.
“Not the way you used to be,” she pouts, even if she’s right. “Not since?—”
I pick her up and set her on her feet. “Time for bed.”
Caitlin’s eyes flash with hurt, but it’s better this way.
“Come on, kitten.” I guide her to her room in silence.
Neither one of us ready to admit defeat.
And make no mistake. We both just lost this little battle.
Ten minutes later, she’s changed—not that she cooperated—and tucked into her bed with her water bottle next to her on the nightstand, a trashcan by the bed, and Cupcake and Meatball both snoring at the foot of her bed.
Her heavy eyes close again. “One day, you’ll tell me why, Callen.”
I shake my head, knowing she’s wrong, and wait until she falls asleep before moving across the hall to my own room and into a cold shower, where I jerk off to thoughts of her lips wrapped around my dick instead of my thumb.
There’s not a doubt in my mind Caitlin Beneventi is going to be the death of me.
CAITLIN
I’m not built for someone soft. I’m loud and opinionated. I talk back, refuse to listen, and sarcasm is my love language. Don’t waste my time if you can’t handle that. I won’t be changing for you.
