Night Shifts Black (18 page)

I shake my head. “Ok,
first of all, if you’re going to hang with me, you’re going to learn to eat a
vegetable.”

“What about fruit
cups?” Luke asks with snicker, and I glance over at him in surprise, then
amusement.

“Yes, that’s a start.”

“Fruit cups?” Casey
asks.

“Part of my standard balanced
breakfast order at Jemma’s,” I explain.

“She doesn’t drink
coffee either.”

“I noticed that this
morning!”

“I like tea. So what?”
I shoot back, crossing my arms. “You know what? I’m so sick of your
holier-than-thou attitudes. You think I’m the one who baffles the mind? What
about the two of you?”

They both smile,
clearly liking the challenge. “Yeah, what about us?” Casey asks, taking the
bait.

I grunt. “Ok, well,
first of all. Explain to me why two guys with more money than they probably
know what to do with, two guys who have an entire mall’s-worth of clothing
options just a personal shopper away, point to the plain, ratty t-shirt and
say, ‘Yes. That’s it. That’s what I want.’”

They laugh, and Luke
shakes his head. “Again with the t-shirts! You really have a vendetta, don’t
you?” he teases.

I raise my eyebrows
and give them an obvious appraisal. “Am I wrong? You two look identical right
now.”

Casey visibly braces
for the fight. “Well, first of all, if you recall, I’m actually wearing his
clothes, so…”

“And, second of all, I
thought we already established pink polo shirts weren’t my thing,” Luke adds.

I deflate with a pout,
afraid maybe I’m losing this round. No! I’m not losing. “I didn’t say you had
to dress like an investment banker, I’m just saying, would a little color or
design kill you? I mean, really. It’s appalling.”

“She just wants us to
take our shirts off,” Casey teases, and I blush. I don’t know why. At this
point I’ve seen both of them almost naked, one of them actually naked, and yet
still I blush. Stupid Casey and his sexy smile…gosh, sexy everything. I have to
force away the extremely unhelpful memories of him in a towel.

“Whatever. You’re just
mad because I don’t drool over you all the time like you’re used to.”

“No? Really,” Casey
challenges, moving around the island. He pulls his shirt over his head, and
sure enough my mouth goes dry. I curse to myself. At least I’m not drooling.

“Not even a little
interested?” he continues, taking my hand and guiding my fingers over his chest,
his abs. His perfectly sculpted tattooed torso. The detailed ink reminding me
of every tantalizing picture I’d made the mistake of studying in my earlier search.

I can hear Luke snickering
from his seat, and struggle desperately for a witty return. Anything!
Just…something!

I swallow. His warm
skin feels so good beneath my fingers and I can’t get our kisses out of my
head. The way his hands moved over me, the way he felt beneath my own. Gosh, I
want him so much that I actually hate him right now. I especially hate that he
clobbered me in this debate, even if he totally cheated.

“Geez. Put your
clothes on. Luke’s trying to eat.”

“I’m good,” Luke
interjects, and I glare over at him, but finally manage to pull away from
Casey. I grab his shirt from the floor and sling it back at him. He captures it
against his chest with that goofy grin that only increases his appeal.

“And also, I don’t
believe for a second that you can look like that sitting around watching TV and
eating bar food, so that makes you a liar on top of everything else.”

Casey laughs and
mercifully slips his shirt back over his head.

“Of course not. I was
kidding about the junk food and stress. Trust me, they keep us on a pretty
tight leash.” He pauses, and glances over at Luke. “Speaking of which, I was
gonna ask if I could borrow your key and go hit the gym later.”

For some reason, Luke
looks to me first before nodding. “Actually, if you want, I’ll just call down
and have Mara get you one of your own.”

I’m sure Casey’s
stunned expression mirrors my own, and it’s everything I can do to stay calm
and not tackle Luke with a gigantic hug.

“Thanks, man,” Casey
replies casually, but I know he must be bursting inside as well.

“Sure. Thanks for the
burger.”

Casey nods, and
somehow we all sense the universe has shifted.

∞∞∞

Luke says he’ll make the call to Mara from his
room and disappears shortly afterwards for some time alone. He’s had an
emotionally exhausting day that jerked him all over the spectrum, so I’m not
surprised. You don’t shatter glass without drawing blood.

Once we’re alone, I
glance back at Casey who still seems in shock.

“Guess you’re
staying?” I say.

“Guess so,” he replies
with a smile.

“What about your life?
I mean, don’t you have somewhere else you’re supposed to be?”

He grins. “Trying to
get rid of me?”

I roll my eyes. “You
know I want you here. I just…I don’t know. You must have a whole other life.
Obligations.”

“Obligations,” he
smirks. “Yeah. But nothing I can’t do from here. Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll be
where I need to be when I need to be there.”

He sighs. “Anyway, I do
have my own place, but it’s nothing worth missing. I’m on the road so much I
never thought there was any point in setting up roots.” He pauses. “I could say
the same to you.”

I almost laugh.
“Please. My life is literally nothing. Talk about a pointless existence.”

I feel his gaze and
realize I revealed more than I’d intended.

“Sorry, that didn’t
come out right.”

He shrugs. “I don’t
know. Maybe it did. What does that mean? Who are you? I don’t even know your
last name.”

I look away. “No one
worth your time, believe me.”

I upset him. I can see
it in the way his eyes change, that constant amusement dissolving into anger.

“You do understand you’re
insulting me, too, when you do that?”

Not the response I was
expecting. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just …I don’t know. I just
meant I’m no one.”

He shakes his head in
frustration. “What the hell does that even mean? You’re no one? So am I just an
idiot then to be wasting entire days and nights with ‘no one’?”

My heart starts to
pound. “No. That’s not what I meant. Of course not.”

He glares at me and
curses. “No, I know what you meant. I know exactly what you meant. Your face
isn’t slapped all over the internet and some stupid magazine so therefore you
don’t count as a person in my life just because mine is. God, Callie, we
basically met two days ago and I can’t even imagine not having you in my life
at this point. Luke didn’t know you existed a month ago and now you’re his best
chance at survival. You’re doing what no one else could! You write poetry that
cut into me, and have made me laugh so much these last couple days it’s
actually starting to get painful.” He draws in a deep breath, and I can only
stare in stunned silence. “So stop with the ‘I’m a nobody’ bullshit and tell me
who you really are!”

I bite my lip and
shift in my stool, doing everything I can to sort through the explosion.
There’s so much there, it’s so heavy, I don’t know how. I cover my face with my
hands and lean my elbows on the counter. He doesn’t respond, he’s waiting for
my decision, and I suck in a deep breath. Is he proving to be my hammer?

“I’m Callie Roland,
twenty-three, born and raised in Shelteron, Pennsylvania.”

I finally dare to look
again, and his eyes have softened. He takes the stool beside me and holds out
his hand.

“Casey Barrett,
twenty-five, born and raised in Houston, Texas.”

“Houston?” I repeat in
surprise, remembering Luke’s recent journey.

He nods and gives me a
sad smile. “Elena Barrett Craven was my sister.”

∞∞∞

My heart stops. I stare at Casey in shock, not
sure what else to do. It can’t be…but it almost has to be at the same time.

“I’m sorry to just
dump that on you. I thought you should know. Maybe that matters, maybe it
doesn’t,” he says quietly.

“Of course it
matters!” I cry, still shaken from the news.

He looks away. “More
pieces of the puzzle, huh?”

“More insight into
you,” I correct, taking his hand. He glances at me, and I see that it was my
turn to surprise him. “I’m so sorry, Casey,” I continue, my heart breaking as I
recast everything I’d understood about the situation into a new light. “And yet
you stood by him? Cared for him?”

Casey stares at the
floor. “We were both hurting. Maybe I thought we were standing by each other in
the beginning. But I wasn’t the reason for her downfall, he was. I was able to
forgive myself and continue to love her after she was gone. Luke’s pain was
different.”

I hug him then. I
can’t help it. I don’t know how else to explain how he never ceases to amaze
me.

“You’re a special person,
Casey Barrett,” I whisper.

He laughs against my
hair. “You’ve only known me a few days. I’ll get on your nerves soon enough.”

I squeeze tighter,
finding that unlikely.

He pulls back and
searches my face. I want him to kiss me again, but don’t dare to hope
lightening will strike a third time. A brief struggle flickers behind his eyes
before he finally smiles and sits back.

“So does that mean
I’ve won enough points to continue our
Dead
Head
marathon?”

I groan. “Do we have
to? Right before bed?”

He shrugs and gives me
that look I’ll never be able to resist.

“Fine,” I concede with
a sigh. “But I maintain the Power of the Mute Button.”

“Deal. But no
fast-forwarding.”

I grunt. “Deal.”

∞∞∞

I can’t sleep that night. Our
Dead Head
binge turns out to be the
least of my problems as I stare at the ceiling of the guest room. Casey took
the couch, and part of me wants to wake him up just so someone else can share
in my misery. But I realize that would make me an awful human being, so I manage
to stay rooted under my sheets. Still, I don’t know how much longer I can lie
here with my riotous mind.

While thoughts of Luke
pound against my skull like always, it’s surprisingly Casey’s face that keeps
me awake tonight. I can’t stop thinking about his revelation, about the number
of conversations he’d had that he could have made about himself, and didn’t.
Here I’d been counting on him as my support, Luke’s rock, and he’d had as much
reason as any of us to need an anchor. He calls himself Luke’s brother and I’d
been assuming that was figurative.

I think back to all
his warnings about me falling for Luke. No wonder he was so sensitive to that
likelihood. And here I’d been annoyed with him for being intrusive. For
overstepping his bounds. I was the one stomping all over his heart and mocking
his fences.

I have to fight the
urge to go to him now, to wake him up with a confusing explosion of words and
feelings that will make no sense to him since he hasn’t been in my head for the
last three hours. And that’s when I realize I have no choice. I have to do
something before I self-destruct. There’s only one way I know how to capture
what I’m feeling. One thing that helps me turn the chaos in my head into
something livable.

I climb out of bed and
grab my laptop.

“How was I supposed to know your smile was
only a distraction?

How am I supposed to feel, stuck in veiled
conversation?

Because you never let me in, now I have to
watch you drowning.

Quiet suffering speak!

I’ll stay here, don’t look down.

There’s nothing waiting for you on the ground.

You’re stronger than you’re feeling now.

I’ll stay here.

I’ll stay.

How was I supposed to know you wore silence
like some worn out fashion?

How are you supposed to heal, so afraid of our
reaction?

Because you have to let me in, please stop all
of this pretending.

Oh quiet suffering speak!

Quiet suffering, I hear it. Deafening.

Quiet suffering, I feel it. Pounding.

Stop these games, you don’t need it. They’re
maddening.

Quiet suffering, I don’t believe it. I’m
waiting.

I’ll stay here, don’t look down.

There’s nothing waiting for you on the ground.