Deliver Us: The Sinful Duet, #2

By Skyla Madi

How do you win back a love you threw away with a careless text message? How do you win back a girl who can't stand the sight of you?

Instead of penning the perfect heartfelt letter, or sending bouquets of roses to her doorstep, I followed Cassia from Arizona to New York City and moved in next door to her and her new boyfriend, Nick.

Cassia claims her relationship with Nick is built on concrete, that I can't touch what they have, but I see the flash of desire in her eyes whenever she looks at me, feel the quickening of her breath on my face whenever I get close.

I know better than to take her lies as truth.

Their foundation is built on nothing more than crumbling bricks and I'm wielding the sledgehammer that will bring it down.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Skyla Madi
• Release date: Mar 3, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201353964

Skyla Madi

Skyla Madi is an internation bestselling novelist of a moxed bag of romance who lives in sunny Queensland, Australia. She spends most of her time indoors, writing with one hand and raising her three youn children with the other.  Skyla lovs to hear from readers and encourages messages on her website, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Goodreads.  All business related inquiries can be sent via email to [e-mail]

Book preview

Also by Skyla Madi...

The Devil’s Cartel MC...

Burning Road

Burning Daylight

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The New York Crime Kings Series...

Blood & Rust

Sin & Secrets

Smoke & Metal

Rage & Bullets

Ink & Bone

Guts & Glass

Death & Dust

––––––––

The Consumed Series...

Consumed

Too Consumed

Forever Consumed

Always Consumed

––––––––

The Slammed Series...

Slammed

Crushed

––––––––

The Unfortunate Trilogy...

The Unfortunates

The Fortunates

––––––––

The Sinful Duet...

Into Temptation

Deliver Us

––––––––

Standalones...

Beautiful Assassin

On Her Guard

"Every heart sings a song, incomplete,

until another heart whispers back.

Those who wish to sing always find a song.

At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes

a poet."

––––––––

- Plato

Chapter One

C A L E B

Weeks ago

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I hate New York, that’s the truth, but I’ll follow Cassia to the gates of hell if I have to.

I sit under the large, open window, my back against the brick wall of my new apartment, breathing in the fumes of New York, clenching the neck of a bottle of beer in my hand. My apartment is flooded with people I don’t know, and my head throbs with every pounding beat of this stupid fucking song.

I told myself I’d never move to the city. Cities make me anxious, but here I am.

It was hard leaving Paradise Valley and the comfort of my sister, Penelope, who I thought was gone forever. But every day I’ve spent without Cassia has been torture. I can’t rest. Can’t think straight. When everyone else in the city is asleep, I sit awake in my bathroom, running the tip of my finger along the edge of a covered razor. I contemplate relieving some of the pressure her absence triggers in me. I promised her I wouldn’t cut again, but when I made that promise, I didn’t anticipate living without her.

I shouldn’t complain. My life is good. I have my sister back. My father isn’t as mad at me anymore, and with Agnes’s encouragement, I’ve taken up painting to express myself instead of my usual method. But they don’t see what I see in my head. They don’t feel what I feel. I didn’t realize how good a buffer Cassia was until she left. When she was around, it was easy to focus all my attention on her. Without her, I can’t escape the trauma of seeing my mother’s lifeless body, of slipping in her blood.

Hey!

I lift my head, pulled by a husky female voice, and stare up at the wild, green-eyed girl in front of me. She flicks her tongue over her lip piercing and tightens her long, black ponytail.

Wanna fuck?

I simper. It’s always too easy. Cassia is the only girl in my life I’ve had to work hard for. The only girl I’ve wanted to work hard for, and what I got when I finally had her, was worth every second I went without sex.

I shake my head and down a mouthful of beer. Nah.

Frowning, the girl—probably a little older than me—flicks her ridiculous black tulle skirt and storms away, leaving me to fall back into my train of thought. It’s a hard place to escape when I’m five beers and two shots of whiskey deep.

My whole life, I blamed myself for letting the red-haired man steal Penelope from my arms, for accepting Mom’s rosary beads right before she slit her wrists. She did it all to avoid telling my father she cheated on him and birthed another man’s baby—a fucking criminal biker’s baby—and passed Penelope off as Dad’s. Mom left me in agony and Cassia was the balm that soothed me.

Fixed me.

And I just...I let her go.

My father thinks Cassia was a meaningless fling to punish him, a sinful waste of time that ruined his relationship with Marcus and Linda Claire. I’d deny it, but I don’t have Cassia on my arm to prove I’m head over heels in love with her, so I ignore it.

I don’t speak to anyone about Cassia—except Agnes. Agnes understands me. She’s another reason I haven’t cut my flesh to purge the sad thoughts of Cassia that plague me. She said it breaks her heart and, fuck, Agnes has the biggest heart of all. Cares more about me than herself, she does. She’s the reason I left Paradise Valley for New York City to bring the love of my life back. Agnes is sick. Real sick. It’s her wish I marry the girl of my dreams before she passes and, God knows, I’m going to try my damn hardest to do it for her.

The music pauses as the song changes, and in the split second of silence, I hear a dull thud outside my window. My heart races and my palms grow clammy at the thought of Cassia being out there, being so close to me for the first time in a long time.

It took me well over a year to get a place in the same apartment building as Cass. I was happy to get any apartment on this floor, but to score the one right next door to her is incredible. It’s almost as if someone is looking out for me, or so I’d think if I believed in a higher power.

I push myself to my feet and peer out the window. My heart stops dead in my chest at the sight of her on all fours, snatching a beer can out of her potted plant. I swallow hard, but my mouth is dry. Her long, wavy blonde hair gradients into a light pink and cascades over her shoulders, touching the metal grating below. Her shirt rises, showcasing her milky skin and my top lip twitches as the memory of what her flesh feels like, what it tastes like, assaults my brain. Before I can register it, I’ve climbed out my window and I’m standing on the same landing she is. From this angle, I notice black ink on her hip, a string of words I can’t decipher from this distance.

That’s new, I say before I can stop myself, and I bite back the urge to ask her if she’s got a clit piercing to match.

Cassia freezes, then tosses the empty can over the railing and lifts herself to her feet. The freezing air stabs through my sweater and jeans with every whip of wind, but I endure it without complaint just to look at her. With slow, shaking hands, she tugs her shirt down and broadens her shoulders. She sucks in an inhale, then turns around.

When her eyes meet mine, it takes everything I have in me not to fall to my knees and beg for her forgiveness, but as tears well in her angry eyes, I know it won’t be that easy. She hates me...and it rips at my fucking heart.

She parts her gorgeous plump lips. I...I...

I swallow my disappointment as she purses them again, raking her gaze over me from head to toe. I’m unnerved by her judgmental stare. She looks at me like...like I’m disgusting.

When you move to New York, you gotta get a tattoo, right? I ask, desperate to crack the ice building between us.

She reaches out with a slender hand and grips the railing. I was expecting her to be upset. I know it’ll take a while for her to warm up to me. I just need to streamline the process by being the same sarcastic, snarky asshole she fell in love with. That has to work.

How...?

I live next door, I point out, grinning. What a coincidence.

She’s not happy about it. Not one bit. I feel my grin fade into a smaller smile. I want to be sincere, but sarcastic, crude arrogance is my crutch when speaking vulnerably scares me. I slide my teeth together, swallowing my crass humor.

It’s good to see you, Cass.

She grits her teeth and my body tightens as she launches forward and slaps the beer from my hand. I watch it fall and hit the landing, the glass chipping on impact. Beer shoots against my shoes before the bottle rolls off the edge. I press my tongue against the roof of my mouth to quell the frustration swirling inside me. My heart thunders in my ears and I lift my gaze to hers. Below us, the glass smashes against the concrete.

You sent me a text, she hisses through clenched teeth. A fucking text message!

The pain in her voice punches me in the gut, and my eyes twitch against a frown. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her, but my dead sister came back. My world was turned upside down. I couldn’t leave. I step closer to Cassia. Her fat lower lip quivers and she tenses, cautious of my approach. She smells clean and soapy, the light scent of a strawberry shampoo hanging in the air. I want to kiss her, to feel her under my hands for the first time in too fucking long. I ball my hands at my side, fighting the urge to pull her in to me.

I know and I’m so—

Sia?

I freeze at the male voice coming from inside her apartment. Sia? A head pokes out of her window and I drag my eyes to it—to him. Jealousy flares, shooting icicles of hatred and anger into my bones. Who the fuck is he? Why is he in her apartment?

There you are. His dark brown eyes settle on me and I cut my eyes at him as he curiously tilts his head. Who’s this?

This is, uh, this is Caleb. He’s our new neighbor.

I flinch and force my attention to her. Our new neighbor? Really? A strange pain bursts through my chest and my ribcage, sending sharp shards of dejection spiraling into the pit of my stomach. Then she has the nerve to scowl at me, like me being here is wrong...

...like I’m the last person in the world she wants to see.

I don’t realize he’s climbed out the window to stand beside Cassia until he wraps one arm around her slender shoulder and sticks a hand in my direction. They’re together? She’s with him?

Nice to meet you, Caleb. I’m Nick.

I look at his hand, then give him an overt once over. How old is this guy? Thirty? Forty? I’m taller than him, but he’s wider—more fat than muscle—and I’m better looking. Much better looking. And he’s a brunette. I hate him.

I laugh and Cassia sucks air between her teeth. Though all my attention is on Nick, I can feel her glare burning holes in my skin.

Nick?

Frowning, Dick pulls his hand back. Yeah...Nick. Hey, listen, you mind turning the music down a little? We’re about to put on a movie and I hate using subtitles.

I glance at his hand as he rubs at Cassia’s bicep, hugging her tight under his arm to keep her warm. I clench and unclench my fists at my side. I want to punch him for touching her. I want to pick him up and throw him the fuck over the edge, but I keep my hands to myself and my mouth shut. The last thing I need is for Cassia to hate me even more.

You want me to turn my music down?

Yeah.

Dick smiles at me and it pries its way under my skin. There’s something about him I don’t like. Something that rubs me the wrong way.

Not a chance. I pin Cassia with a glare. If she thinks having Dick on her side is going to scare me off, she’s out of her head. I’ll gladly pull her out from underneath him without a second thought, without a hint of guilt. She’s mine. Enjoy your movie, Sia.

It takes everything I have in me to turn away from them, knowing they’re going to go inside and watch a movie together. Probably get intimate with each other too. I storm toward my window and slip inside, slamming it shut behind me. She’s way too pretty for him, way too free spirited and...and mine!

I stalk through the throng of sweaty people and grab another beer out of a cooler overflowing with ice. I twist the lid off and slam half of it back in two large gulps, desperate to take my mind off her and the probability of him putting his hands on her tonight.

A distinct laugh draws my attention and I peer across the kitchen to the girl with the long, black ponytail. She chats away with her friend, tapping her long, manicured fingers against her shoulder. I look away, unable to stomach the thought of touching her...but then I think of Cassia and who she’s been with. Nick. I bare my teeth with a grimace.

You. I point at the girl with the long black ponytail and she looks at me, her dark eyes flaring, a small smile playing on her thin lips. Come here.

Waltzing away from her friends, she saunters toward me, swaying her wide hips. She stops a few inches from me and peers up at me through her long fake lashes.

Still wanna fuck? I ask her, hating that my voice sounds angry and hurt.

Smirking, she leans forward and presses her palm against my crotch, against my soft dick. It doesn’t twitch under her touch or harden. It doesn’t do anything and that pisses me off even more. With her other hand, she takes my beer, finishes it, and places the empty bottle on the counter.

I snatch the girl’s hand from my junk and drag her through the throng of people, storming hastily toward my bedroom. I throw the door open with a growl in my chest, happy to find it empty, and tug her inside. Whipping around, I shove her against the door by her shoulders and it slams shut as she crashes against it with a wicked chuckle. I press my body to hers and she tilts her chin, her mouth seeking mine.

I glance at her lips. They’re the wrong shape. The wrong shade. I pull away from her. You don’t get to kiss me.

Her mouth quirks at one corner, her black eyes dancing with excitement. Suit yourself.

I crane my neck, lowering my mouth to her nape. She turns her head, giving me better access to her smooth flesh, and I pause. I wait for excitement to rush me, for blood to pool where it should be pooling.

It doesn’t.

I wait another heartbeat and nothing changes.

What is it? she whispers breathlessly, and I pull away from her.

Give me a second.

I turn away and stomp into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Gritting my teeth, I lean over the white porcelain basin and stare down the drain before lifting my gaze to the mirror. My skin is flushed, my eyes tired from the alcohol. A clammy sweat has formed on my forehead and thin locks of my spiky blond hair sticks to it.

What the hell are you doing? I whisper to myself.

Why the hell did I quit my job and leave my sister? Why the hell am I in New York? Why the hell can’t I get hard over the hot girl in my room when Cassia is next door doing God knows what with Nick the Dick?

Images of his mouth on hers assault me. I groan loudly, and turn on the cold-water tap. I squeeze my eyes shut, but it doesn’t stop images of him pressing kisses lower and lower until he devours her between her legs. My stomach rolls with disgust—with envy—and I cup the water in my hands and splash it on my face.

I can’t do this, I utter, gripping the basin. Shit.

I dry off my face and exit the bathroom. The girl I brought into my room is sitting on my bed by my pillows, her shirt discarded on the floor, but a black lace bra covers her small breasts.

Who is this? she asks, brushing her thumb over a photograph.

I hold my breath. Who goes through other people’s bedside tables without permission? I saunter closer and snatch the picture from her fingers. I cut my eyes at her and she glares up at me. She pouts her lips as she waits for an explanation I don’t owe her. I peer at the photo and the guilt of what I was about to do slams into my chest.

Get out, I mutter, not taking my eyes off the photo.

Really?

Yeah, really.

Pathetic, she spits with an angry scowl.

I step back as she pushes herself to her feet and grabs her shirt off the floor before she stalks off, slamming my bedroom door after her. Outside, I hear something smash, but don’t bother investigating. I’m trapped by the photo.

Me and Cass.

She has a serious pout on her lips and I’m smiling at her, enamored by her as always. Drew took the photo on his phone at my party the night Fiona overdosed. Sent it to me on Facebook a few weeks later and I had a few of them printed out for safekeeping.

Fuck! I snap, slamming the photograph against my bedside table.

I throw myself onto my bed and sling my arm over my face, squeezing my eyes shut. Of course she’s moved on. It’s been well over a year since we spoke last. What was I expecting? She’s gorgeous, young, and fit. She has an innocent face and a killer rack, but she’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever met. Fiesty. Compassionate. A real sweetheart.

I loved her.

I love her. 

And I’ll do anything to get her back.

Chapter Two

C A L E B

Present

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Haha! Yes! Nick booms, fist pumping the air.

Exhaling, I drop his video game controller against the couch as a giant K.O. pulses on the screen. His musclebound dickhead of a character bounces on the balls of his feet over my sexy fighter chick’s unconscious body. This game is stupid. And boring. I only agreed to come over because I thought Cassia would be home. Turns out, she’s at work and I’m wasting my damn time here with this douche.

Nick leaps off the couch and bounces into the kitchen, high off his win. I tap my fingers against my sweatpants-clad thighs, swallowing my competitiveness. I didn’t think I’d mind losing to Nick and his stupid game since it’s my first time playing, but I hate it. I hate losing to him, and if I have to play another round and bond over shit I don’t care about, I’m going to lose my damn mind.

What’s the time, anyway? I’ve been here for forty minutes. I dig into my pocket for my phone and check the clock. Nick said Cassia finishes work at five-thirty. It’s fifteen minutes to seven. Where the hell is she?

It’s not a coincidence I bumped into Nick in the hall. I timed it perfectly. And here we are.

He reenters the room, clutching two beers in his hand. He passes me one and my leg bounces as I fight the urge to pry into her whereabouts. How can he sit around so comfortably when Cassia is out there somewhere? She works at a restaurant a few blocks over and he lets her walk home. What’s he doing that’s so important he can’t pick her up? Or at least walk with her?

Should you call her? I ask as he lowers himself into the worn armchair across from where I sit on the couch. I mean, it’s dark out.

He shrugs his large shoulders. She’ll be all right. Probably come through that door any second now. I thought you said you were the best at this game? He adds onto the end, changing the subject.

I narrow my eyes at him. Did I?

Yeah. You did.

I lift my shoulder. It’s been a while.

I don’t play video games. The only reason I’m here is because Nick is easier to get to than Cassia. Since she avoids me, I make myself known to Nick instead. If I can’t get to her myself, then I’ll go through him. He’ll continue to invite me into his house under the pretense of friendship and, when he’s not looking, I’ll steal my girl out from under him.

Picking up his controller, he dusts off his brown tee and clicks through the menus until we’re back on the character select screen. How many times does he want to play this game? Sighing, I take a large mouthful of my drink and place it at my feet. Then, I grab my controller and pause as the sound of keys jingling in the hall outside reaches my ears. I flick my attention from the TV to the door and my heart kicks up in its pace, my palms growing sweaty. The lock shifts, the handle drags down, and the door opens. A slender, black thigh high boot slips through first, exposing a few inches of tan thigh. Oxygen leaves my lungs, my blood surges in my veins, and I’m frozen in my seat. She steps inside, and I suck air between my teeth. A tight, gray knitted dress clings to her beautiful curves and covers every inch of her torso, including her arms, and the fabric thickens around her neck. Cassia clutches the strap of her black handbag in her hand, a thick black coat draped over the same arm.

"Sorry I’m late. I had to—oh."

Her hair is wavy and bright, curling around her generous bust, her face lightly painted with makeup, her pouty, glossed lips slaying me instantly. I lift my gaze to her fierce glare and smile. I’m in so much trouble. I chance a glance in Nick’s direction, but he’s not paying attention to either of us. He’s too involved in his stupid game to notice the vision that just walked through the door and how she consumes me completely.

I invited Caleb over to game out, Nick says, placing his beer and controller on the side table. He pushes himself out of his armchair and walks over to her. He sucks at it.

Cassia’s manicured brows furrow further and my entire body coils with rage as he leans in for a kiss. I clench my jaw, my stare falling to the pink flush that swirls in her cheeks. She turns her head at the last minute, his kiss landing on her cheek, before he pulls her into a hug, burying his face in her long blonde and pink hair. I look away, pulling my beer to my lips. That should be me. Seeing her with him hurts more than any razor I’ve ever sliced through my flesh.

Nick pulls away from Cassia and she drags her attention from me to him. I grabbed dinner. Hope you’re in the mood for Chinese.

I’ve already eaten. He peers over his shoulder at me, and I fight every cell in my being to keep my expression neutral. What about you, Cale?

Cale? That better stop right now. Cassia minutely shakes her head, urging me to decline. Lucky for her, I have a Skype call at seven-thirty with Penelope. I wish I didn’t. I’d love nothing more than to torment Cassia over dinner a little more, like the good old days, but I haven’t spoken to Penelope in a few days. I need to check in and make sure everything is going smoothly between her and Dad. He’s making progress, but he’s been standoffish and quiet since she showed up.

Can’t, sorry.

Cassia’s shoulders relax. I relish in the fact she doesn’t want Nick and me in the same room. She’s afraid I’ll tell him we’re together, that we’re not the strangers he thinks we are to each other.

And we are together. Things have gotten a little complicated, but she’s still mine.

Why? You got somewhere to be.

I nod, sipping my beer. Yeah.

He turns away from Cassia, brushing his hands down the front of his black sweatpants, and saunters back to his armchair. You got time for another round before you go?

I shrug my shoulders. Any excuse to look at Cassia for a few more minutes. Sure.

I grab my controller as Cassia curses under her breath and carries herself to the kitchen. I can’t take my eyes off her as she walks by—not that Nick the Dick notices—and when she catches me staring she glares at me and points to the TV, but I’m too weak to drag my attention away. I’d rather look at her than whatever is on the screen.

Hold up. I’m gonna pause it and go to the bathroom first, Nick announces, leaping out of his armchair. Give me a sec.

Thank God. He sets off down the hallway, his bare feet pattering against the varnished floor. When the door clicks shut, Cassia slaps her hands against the black granite counter and storms toward me, her heels tapping the floor.

Get out, Caleb, she demands in a harsh whisper, jabbing a finger toward the front door.

I smile as I sit forward to place my beer on the glass coffee table, then I push myself to my feet and turn to her. That’s no way to treat your guest, Cass.

She tightly folds her arms across her chest. You’re not a guest. You’re a snake. I know what you’re doing and it won’t work.

If you didn’t avoid me like the plague, I wouldn’t have to pretend to like Nick just to get closer to you.

Cassia whips her arm out again, points to the door with a stomp of her shoe. Get. Out.

I flash her the palms of my hands. Fine. I’m going. I saunter to the door with Cassia hot on my heels. I grab the slim handle and pull it open, looking over my shoulder at her. By the way, you look good.

She rolls her stunning, smoky eyes. Don’t, Caleb.

I turn around and lean against the doorjamb, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my sweatpants. What, I can’t give you a compliment?

No, she says, nervously tapping a hand against her thigh as she glances down the hall. "You can’t give me a compliment because I know you. It’s never just a compliment."

Is that so?

Yes. It’s how you bait me into a conversation with you.

I tilt my head. Wh—

You should know, I’m immune to your pretty words now.

I shift my weight onto my left leg and pin her with a glare. You’re really gonna keep going with this charade, huh? Pretending we’re finished? That I don’t make your nipples hard every time I open my mouth? That you don’t lie awake at night thinking of me, like I think of you?

Her eyes widen a fraction, then narrow into angry slits, her lips thinning as she presses them together. I watch patiently as she slowly inhales through her nose and parts her lips to let it out. Her angry demeanor falls away, and it pisses me off. Why am I the only one struggling with this? Since when is she more composed than me?

Stay away from Nick, she orders calmly. He’s not your friend and he never will be. If your purpose is to—

I don’t care, I snap, my voice booming through their apartment. I don’t care about Nick or how hurt he’ll be when he finds out about us.

Gasping, she slams her hands on my chest and shoves me into the hall, closing the door behind us. What is wrong with you? she hisses. "There is no us."

I make a tight growling noise in my chest as my frustration peaks, bubbling like lava in my veins. I want to grab her tiny arms and shake her until she gets it, until she needs me as much as I need her. Yes, there fucking is, Cassia!

She flinches, her big eyes filling with tears. No, there isn’t.

I lean into her personal space, bending my body until my face aligns with hers. It’s not to intimidate her. I just want to make it clear that I see right through her. If you’re so sure, why’d you introduce me as your new neighbor instead of your boyfriend?

"Ex-boyfriend." She feels the need to clarify, like it makes any difference.

I straighten, my lips quirking. I disagree, but regardless, you claimed you didn’t know me. You had every chance to tell Nick the truth, and you didn’t because you knew if he asked you if there was still anything between us, you’d feel guilty for lying.

Cassia flicks her stare between my eyes. What she’s looking for, I’m not sure. She squares her shoulders, pivots, and grabs the door handle. Panic grips me at the thought of being thrust back into the silence of living without her. My sister came back from the dead. I couldn’t just leave.

She whirls on her heel, anger blazing in her dark, ocean eyes. You think I’m mad because you chose your sister over me?

Aren’t you?

Cassia scoffs. As if I’m that selfish, Caleb. 

Then what’s your problem? I demand, throwing my hands up. I give up trying to understand her. Why do you hate me so much?

You sent me a text message, she bites out. As quickly as her anger comes, it disappears. My chest aches as I watch it morph into sadness, into pain and regret. "What we had wasn’t worth a phone call? I wasn’t worth a phone call? Tears flood her eyes and it’s a devastating punch to my stomach. I inch backward, grimacing away from her sad, beautiful face. I thought everything we went through cemented our relationship, but it wasn’t cement at all. It was mud and gravel, and it cracked and broke apart the first chance it got. She looks up to the light to prevent tears from dropping onto her cheeks and drags in a shaky inhale. Expelling it, she admits, Maybe it’s stupid to you, and maybe you think I’m overreacting, but I can’t help how I feel. She lowers her stare from the ceiling to me, and my heart pounds painfully in my ears. I have cement with Nick."

Cement? She thinks she has cement with that bag of dicks inside? I laugh once and she flinches at the sound. It comes from a bitter place mostly, but there’s a hint of fear in it too. I hear it. It rings loud, like church bells, in my ears and I hope she doesn’t hear it too. I’m scared she’s speaking the truth, scared she means everything she’s saying.

Cassia’s walls slide into place. She squares her shoulders and a mask of indifference slips over her face. All her emotion is gone. Goodnight, Caleb.

She turns away from me and opens her door. I step forward, my hand out.

Cass— She slams the door in my face and my fingers brush against the wood. Fuck! I drop my head against the wood with a heavy exhale. I... I clear the lump from my throat. I didn’t mean to...to...

What didn’t I mean? What do I want to say?

Words fail me.

And I fail her.

Chapter Three

C A S S I A

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Thump. Thump.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Why? I scream, throwing my hands up at my ceiling for the one millionth time tonight. I twist in my bed, rolling onto my side to look at my alarm clock. It’s one in the goddamn morning!

I sit up and shuffle to my headboard and slam my fists against the wall, a wall I apparently share with Caleb. Of course, he’d spite me after our argument eight days ago. I could see it in his face how badly I hurt him with the things I said. I meant most of it...except the part about Nick and me being cement. Nick thinks we’re cement, but I think we’re wet sand at best. Not that I’d tell Caleb that.

I’m working hard on the relationship Nick and I have, like I promised him I would. He knows I’m still hung up on an ex-boyfriend—thanks to Fiona—but he’s trying to help me move on. It was working too, until that ex-boyfriend moved in next door, looking even better than I remembered.

Shut up! I shout, slapping my palms against the wall.

The bed—Caleb’s bed, I assume—slams harder into the plaster dividing us, my shouting going unheard. Exhaling, I slump and drop to the mattress. Why is this happening to me? I tug my heavy duvet up to my chin and pull my pillow over my head. It does nothing to mute the bass music or the sound of the thumping. I try to endure it, but it doesn’t end.

Ever.

And when I peer out from underneath my pillow and come face to face with a giant two on my alarm clock, I snap. I throw my blanket off with a growl, leap out of bed, and grab my white sweater off the floor. Pulling it on over my head, I storm from my room, flicking lights on as I go. I hate I have to go next door myself. If Nick were home, he’d do it for me. Though, I’d have to venture into his room to wake him since, most nights, we don’t share a bed. My idea. We’re taking it slow. Very slow. Since we started off as roommates and friends, I didn’t want to ruin what made things so easy. I moved incredibly fast with Caleb and fell deeply in love with him. It