Page 160 of Wicked Dreams

“I should get my phone. Make sure Riley’s okay with… lying.”

“I think you need rest,” he murmurs.

He puts his arm around me, and I lean my head on his shoulder. He turns on the television, some mindless show about an international race, and we both kind of zone out. Every once in a while, he leans over and wipes a tear from my cheek.

I don’t know why I’m still crying.

“Painkillers.” He jumps up minutes or hours later. “I should’ve thought of that. Are you hungry?”

It feels like my internal organs went through a meat grinder.

I shake my head, and he frowns.

“Soup?” he asks.

“I’ll try.” The truth is, I might throw up. It could go either way.

He returns with ibuprofen and a bowl of chicken noodle soup for me, and a sandwich for him. I sip the broth so he’ll stop staring at me.

Boys eat a lot. I knew that in the back of my mind from the past. Temporary foster brothers, boys at other schools I went to. But seeing Caleb inhale a sandwich, while I can barely keep down broth? With his physique, it just isn’t fair.

He’s got abs. The V that girls rave about. A trim waist andmuscles. Hell, his face is gorgeous, too, but it’s the body that sells the whole package.

And he’s sitting next tome. How’d that happen?

“When’s the other shoe going to drop?” I ask.

He blinks. “What?”

“This is nice. Like, you’re beingnice. Something is bound to go wrong.”

He rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t have to go wrong.”

I straighten as much as I can. “So, what? We’ll live happily ever after and get married and have babies?—”

“Whoa,” he says, taking the bowl from my hands. A little had sloshed over the edge onto my fingers. “I think you’re afraid.”

I jerk back. “Afraid of what?”

“Happiness?”

“Do you evenlikeme?”

I think he may even love you.Except, Ian’s voice in my head is the last thing I want to hear.

I hit my temple with the heel of my palm. Once. Twice. It’s automatic. The urge to get him out of my memory is startlingly strong.

He may even love you.

It’s on fucking repeat. I smack my head, my ears. Anything to forget Ian Fletcher’s voice.

“Margo,” Caleb says. “Stop.”

He grabs my wrists, but it isn’t enough.

One meltdown just became two.

I wrench myself away, almost falling off the couch, and then…

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