Page 26 of Always Red (Chasing Red 2)

What’s wrong?

I raised my eyes. “What is he to you?”

She frowned. “Who?”

I gritted my teeth. “Damon.”

Her eyes cleared in understanding. “Oh, Caleb.” She shook her head, smiled teasingly. “Are you jealous?”

“Damn right I am.” I heaved out a sigh. Jealousy was petty, but I couldn’t help it.

“He’s just a friend. That night when you saw us at the club, he was just comforting me. I…wasn’t feeling good.”

“I’m not going to tell you who you can be friends with—”

“Good.”

“—but please understand that I feel murderously jealous when I see other guys touching you and that I am being completely reasonable when I break your friend’s face if he’s being more than friendly.”

She rolled her eyes. “I told you—”

“Yes, you have, but is that all he wants? He just happens to be there every time you need a shoulder to cry on? What about me? I’m more than your friend. You can cry on my shoulder. My shoulder is always available for you. My shoulder is the property of Red. Do you want me to tattoo that on here?” I pointed to my shoulder. “Or do you want it—”

She dragged her chair around to sit beside me and rested her head on my shoulder.

Oh, this girl.

She had my heart. All of it.

“I know now,” she said, “but at the time, I didn’t. I thought you hated me.”

“I could never hate you.” I leaned my head against hers. “I love you,” I said.

And waited.

“You’re not used to hearing it. Okay. It’s all good. But every time I say it, I want you to know that I mean it. I mean every word,” I told her.

“I love you,” she whispered after a moment.

Just like that. Yeah, just like that. She owned me.

I knew it. She knew it. She knew that I knew she knew it.

Chapter Ten

Veronica

“How’s living with Kar?” Caleb asked, maneuvering the car through morning rush-hour traffic.

“I love it.”

“Not too much, I hope. I want you back home.”

I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling.

God. This boy. I missed this. I missed him. I hadn’t realized how much until he was gone. And now that I had his hand in mine again, I wanted to hold on and never let go. He stroked my palm absently with his thumb, unaware he was doing it.

Last night when we walked on the beach, he’d smell my hair or tug on it gently, or kiss my shoulder, or stroke my arm. Sweet little gestures that filled my heart and choked me up to the point of tears. I had taken those for granted before, but now they were everything to me.

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