Page 26 of Heartless

Do I mean something by it?

The question floats around in my head as I stare at my reflection, until I let out a breath and shake my head. “Stop overthinking it, Winnie,” I whisper, and force myself to leave the bathroom, following the same path back to my room as always.

Cassian is no longer on the bed when I return. He’s standing in front of the bay window, peering out through a small gap in my blackout curtains. He doesn’t turn to look at me when I come in, nor when I drop my clothes in my overflowing laundry hamper by the door. I’ll get to them. Eventually. When I run out of clean underwear.

For a moment, I stand in the middle of the room, watching him survey the outdoors. Doom has decided to vacate my bed, and I look over at the cat tree to see him lounging on the top platform like it’s his throne. Though I guess for him, it’s as close as he’s going to get to his dreams of royalty.

“So…” I sit down on my bed, back against my pillows, and curl my legs up under me. “You still want to know why mom isn’t here?”

My words bring his attention back to me. Cassian pulls away from the window and sits down on the bed as well, before lying down on his side with his elbow propping him up. His sky blue eyes find and hold mine, interest mixing with the infinite patience he somehow possesses no matter the situation. “Of course I do. I want to know anything that you want to tell me.”

“Don’t say crap like that, or I’ll hit you with my pillow,” I scoff, not letting the words sink in. “Mom is on a trip. A work trip, a vacation, a road trip, a shopping trip…?” I shrug my shoulders lightly. “Who knows? She’ll probably text me in the next few hours to let me know where she is. Or she won’t, and she’ll call me tomorrow apologizing about how sheforgotshe hadn’t hit send on the message.” I can’t help the stab of hurt that aches dully in my chest. While it used to be a lot sharper; a lot more painful…the pain from how much she chooses to be away from me never really goes away.

“Why?” That’s all he asks. He doesn’t comment on anything I’ve said, and Cassian’s eyes never leave mine.

“She…” God, this is a lot harder than I’d expected it to be. Lou is the only one who knows the truth, and it’s caused quite a few fights between her and my mom. By now they have an uneasy truce over it, since Lou has realized nothing she says will guilt mom into being around more.

So I take a breath and settle back against the headboard, picking at my thumbnail. “She doesn’t like to be around me anymore. She blames me for Dad, for what happened and what he did. My mom thinks I overreacted, that I could’ve done something different, or that Imisunderstood.” I can’t help but sneer the words, and I’m too nervous to look up at Cassian.

Maybe some part of me is afraid of what I’ll see in his face.

“So she takes trips a lot. She volunteers for any travel at her company, and is constantly going across the country for one thing or another.” I breeze over the details, not adding that she’smade sure to befaraway from here on Halloween. Just like always.

When Cass doesn’t reply, my trepidation of his response grows. I know he has no stake in what happened to my dad. He shouldn’t care one way or the other, but I can’t help my anxiety over his response. Over the possibility of?—

A rustle of sheets and movement from the corner of my eye is the only warning I get before Cassian presses me back against the headboard, on his knees and caging me in against the wall. His elbows rest on the drywall on either side of my face, and he stays there until I look up at him, eyes wide and a question on my tongue.

“I wish I’d known,” he murmurs. “What about your sister? She doesn’t seem like she’d let your mom do that. She was always scary protective of you.” A smile ghosts over his lips, and I snort.

“Are you remembering the time she threw you in the lake for making me cry?” I ask dryly, unable to focus on his eyes when he’sso closethat I can feel the heat from his body and smell the musky spice of his cologne.

Fuck,he has no right to smell this good. Or look this good. Or be anything that he is.

“Something like that.” The way he gazes at me always seems sointense.But then, there’s rarely anything casual about Cassian.

“Yeah, she umm…” I swallow and remind myself he’s a murderer while trying not to focus on how close his knees are to mine. “She’s had quite a few fights with mom over…stuff.” That’s the best I can do with him this close.

A knowing smirk crosses his lips, and my heart sinks. There’s no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing to me and my ability to form coherent thoughts. “Stuff?” he repeats, leaning closer.“Winnie, don’t tell me I’m making you flustered by being this close.”

“You aren’t,” I’m quick to lie. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but your cologne is choking me. It’s hard to focus when I’m trying to breathe normally.” It’s nowhere near the truth. If anything, I want to bury my face in his neck and inhale deeply.

No. Bad Winnie, I berate silently.

“Did you know…” His eyes drop, and with a jolt, I realize he’s staring at my mouth. “That you are, perhaps, the worst liar I’ve ever met? Are you that bad with everyone, I wonder? Or just me?” Fuck, he’s definitely leaning closer.

“I think you’re?—”

“Shut up, sweetheart.” He cuts me off easily a brief moment before his lips crash into mine, shockingly possessive and intense, given the softness of his words. While I’ll never admit to it, I practically melt against him, letting him push me back until I’m leaning fully against the wall and he can pin me there with his body while he coaxes my lips open with teeth and tongue.

It’s his hand on my jaw that makes me open my mouth in a gasp, and Cass is quick to take advantage. He sighs with pleasure against my lips as his tongue explores every bit of space he can. All the while, my hands inch up, until I find my fingers inexplicably curling in his shirt.

I should push him away.

Not pull him closer.

But I can’t convince myself to do the smart thing. My hands seem to have an agenda of their own as I tug him close until there’s no more space between us and any breath I get to take is from the air we’re sharing.

“Winnie…” I don’t expect the low rumble of his voice when he pulls away enough to rest his forehead against mine. The sound of panting breaths fills my ears, and with a shock, I realize it’scoming fromme.I’m the one out of breath, like I’ve just run a mile.

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