Page 90 of A Pretty Fixation

“If he does let you go,” Aaron adds, “I won’t stopuntil I make you mine.”

His declaration causes me to snap my head up.“Aaron…”

He flashes a half-small and closes his books. “Ihave to get to a meeting.”

“Oh.” I watch him gather his things. “Okay. I’llsee you in class on Monday.”

“Yeah.” He straightens from the chair. “See you.”

When he leaves the library, I slump over my bookson the table, wondering if the universe will punish me for not telling Calebthe truth.

The buzzing of my phone propels my pulse.

I sit up fast and check the screen.

My heart starts to race when I see the messagefrom Caleb.

Myroom.

My sprinting heart doesn’t calm when I reachCaleb’s room. I sense something is awry, and that feeling intensifies when heopens the door.

His gray eyes don’t have their usual spark when helooks at me. Only doubt and distress lie within.

“Hey,” I say in a close whisper.

Without a word or a kiss, Caleb backs up for me toenter.

Needing the affection I’ve grown addicted to, Imove towards him. But he puts his hand up to stop me.

Caleb regards me intensely as if he’s picking myfeatures apart. I shift in the spot, confused.

At a razor-sharp breath, he rakes his fingersthrough his hair and pivots.

“Caleb?” I mutter. “What’s wrong?”

He faces me again. “Beach day.” Frustration laceshis voice. “What exactly do you remember?”

Fear grips my whole body.

He knows. He knows the truth.

I press my eyes shut, draw a deep breath, and openthem again. “I remember sitting alone, like I always do, digging in the sand. Iremember finding the seashell.”

Caleb wipes his face harshly. “No, you didn’t,Jordyn.Dovefound it. She gave it to me.”

“She lied.”

He clenches his jaw. “Dove wasn’t a liar.”

“Well, she lied about that.” I press my hand at mychest as I tell him, “I gave her the shell, Caleb. She asked me for it, and Ithought if…”

“You thought what?” he pushes.

My eyes start to water. “I thought if she becamemy friend, then you would too.”

He huffs and lowers his gaze, voice low as hesays, “I don’t remember you.”

Fuck. That stings.

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