Page 48 of Heartless

His face tips upward just a little, and as if drawn there by a magnet, his blue eyes land on mine. He looks tired. Worn out and resigned, even. My fingers tighten on the doorframe as he holds my gaze without saying a word, and my heart races anxiously for him.

When she realizes he isn’t paying attention, Carissa grabs his hair, making him wince, and drags his gaze up to hers. She’s yelling again, getting louder and louder, and her voice seems to shake the whole house.

But he doesn’t look at her.

He’s still looking at me.

Carissa realizes it and turns to glance my way, her eyes widening when she sees me. She drops Cassian and turns to almost run across the room, panic on her face. “I thought you were watching a movie,” she murmurs, yanking the door almost shut behind her, so the only thing I can see is her. I stumble back, clutching onto the railing of the landing, and look away as if I’ve done something bad.

“I’m sorry, Carissa,” I whisper, unable to meet her eyes. “I didn’t mean to?—”

“No, you’re fine, Winnie.” She smiles, but it’s forced, and when she glances back into the room, I see her worry her bottom lip between her teeth. “Go back downstairs, okay? Finish your movie and I’ll make you a snack.”

“Is…” I grip the edges of my t-shirt, twisting in place. “Did Cassian do something wrong?”

Carissa doesn’t answer. She looks back into the room again, her eyes hardening, before she smiles down at me with insincerity written all over her face. “Not really. He just got in trouble at school and…” she trails off, obviously losing the lie. “Just go back downstairs, okay?”

I don’t argue with her. I was told by my parents to never argue with Carissa when she’s babysitting me, since she’s thealmost-adult in charge. So instead of asking about Cass again, I turn and slog down the stairs, finding my way back to the sofa and dragging my knees up to my chest. A few seconds later, I hear the door slam, and her yelling continues, muffled enough I can barely catch any of it.

My eyesopen and I stare up at my ceiling, replaying the dream in my head. It’s one I haven’t had before, but now I remember that day after school. It was a few weeks before Cass killed her; if I’m not getting things mixed up in my head. We carved pumpkins earlier that day, while Cass sort of picked and stabbed at his. That had pissed her off, but to this day, I don’t know why.

Still…

Turning my head, I find Cass on his back beside me, still utterly asleep with his lashes fanned out on his cheeks. He’s always had the longest, thickest lashes of any guy I’ve ever met, and it suits him perfectly.

Not giving myself a chance to hesitate, I sit up, turn, and straddle his waist. Settling back on my knees, I rest my weight on his hips, one hand pressed to his bare chest as I study him, the dream still tugging at my consciousness.

I know he’s not asleep. Not anymore, at least. I can’t place it, but there’s a subtle shift in him; one that screams awareness and howpreparedhe is for anything to happen, even like this.

His sigh is weary and long-suffering, and Cass doesn’t bother opening his eyes before he murmurs, “What do you want, Winnie?”

“That’s a rude way to tell me good morning. Maybe I want you to fuck me again,” I reply offhandedly, stroking my fingers down his stomach and watching his muscles contract from my touch.

“No, you don’t.” It’s not a question. Somehow he justknows.“For some reason, I feel like I’m not going to enjoy what you want right now, am I?”

“Maybe not.” I can admit that much, at least. In his sleep pants and nothing else, he looks divine on my bed, which he’s been sharing with me for the past three nights.

Ever since my mom left.

Ever since he told me I’d be his forever.

“Well then, get it over with. Do I need to open my eyes for whatever it is?” he murmurs, still sweet with sleep. I don’t respond at first, except to scoff lightly and trace the waistband of his pants absently. He really is gorgeous to look at.

I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of it, honestly.

“No, you don’t need to open your eyes or sit up or anything. I actually like you quite a bit where you are. Looks good on you,” I can’t help teasing, digging my nails lightly into his hips.

Cass groans and opens one eye to look at me flatly. “Keep doing that and you’re not going to get the outcome you’re looking for,” he assures me. When I don’t reply, instead just stroking along his hips, Cass sighs and tilts his head back, giving me a full view of the expanse of skin of his neck and shoulders.

“I had a dream,” I say finally, resisting the urge to swoop down and bite to leave my mark on him. I’m sure that I’m sporting a few of his, so it would only be fair.

“Oh yeah? Must’ve been a damn good one for you to be up there. You want to fuck me like this? With me on my back and you?—”

“I had a dream about when we were kids,” I interrupt. The moment he hears me, I feel him tense, before he forces himself to relax. “But it wasn’tjusta dream. I’d sort of forgotten about it until now, but I think…I really think it happened. So umm. I wanted to ask you about it.” God, I’m so rambling now. “Since you were there.”

He doesn’t reply with a witty quip or joke. He doesn’t threaten me or tell me he’s going to find a better use for my mouth.

Cass doesn’t evenlookat me. He just lies on his back, tilts his head still tilted toward my wall, and throws his arm over his eyes.

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