Always Red Read online

  He closed his eyes, humming. I stood beside him, raising my eyebrows. “Did you need anything else, master? Some refreshments, perhaps?”

  He opened one eye and grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  I snorted. He was hopeless. Earlier, his sweet declarations had made me cry, and now he made me want to laugh and slap the silly insolence off his handsome face at the same time.

  I turned around to grab something to throw at him. “I’ll show you refreshm—aah!”

  He sat up quickly, reaching his arms out to grab my waist and pull me to his lap.

  “Caleb!”

  He maneuvered our bodies, grasping my waist in his strong hands so I was lying underneath him.

  His bronze hair fell over one eye. The other stared at me challengingly. “Who’s the master now?”

  I pressed my palms to my mouth, trying desperately not to dissolve into laughter. And then he started tickling me mercilessly. I made inhuman noises, trying to slap away his hands and cover my mouth at the same time. It was late at night, and I really didn’t want to wake up the neighbors.

  “Who’s the master now, Red?”

  “Me!”

  “Wrong answer.” He tsked. “Try again.”

  “Caleb, don’t!”

  He grabbed my wrists, pulling them above my head. He held them in place with one hand—he was so strong—so he could continue to torture me with his fingers.

  “Don’t what? Unless you give me the answer I want—”

  My sides hurt from laughing. “Caleb, no!”

  “I’m going to keep doing—”

  I kissed him. There was no other way to stop him unless I gave in and told him he was the master. But I was in a playful and defiant mood, and I didn’t want to give in.

  “You play dirty,” he breathed.

  “Who’s the master now?” I fired back.

  His shoulders shook as he laughed quietly. His eyes were shining and happy. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he rolled on his back and took me with him so I was lying on top of him.

  “You are,” he answered softly. “Now what would you like me to do for you? I have many talents, master. For example, my tongue can—”

  I covered his mouth to keep him from finishing his sentence. I knew it was going to be something dirty.

  His eyes danced with laughter as I shook my head at him. And then he opened his mouth and bit my palm. I pulled my hand back, a strong current of electricity zinging up my arm.

  He chuckled, lifting his head to kiss me again. His lips were soft, smooth, and warm as he caught my bottom lip and sucked.

  I felt that kiss all the way to my toes.

  When I pulled away, his eyes were glinting naughtily as if to say We both know who the real master is.

  I was still tingling, so I didn’t say anything. I just rested my head on his chest, my arm going around his torso. He wrapped one arm around me, while the other stroked my back gently. We stayed like that for a few minutes. Peaceful. Relaxed. Happy.

  He stretched a hand up above us, making a cup shape with his palm. I looked up to see him closing one eye and staring at the sky with the other.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Holding the moon in the palm of my hand,” he answered quietly.

  I moved until I could see what he was seeing—exactly that, the moon in the palm of his hand. I relaxed against him, smiling. But he wasn’t. There was a somber expression on his handsome face and a hint of sadness in his eyes.

  “You’re like the moon, Red,” he murmured. “I can only pretend that I’m holding you in my hands.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. My voice was hoarse.

  His eyes were serious. “I feel like you’re going to slip away again.”

  My chest tightened. “I won’t.”

  I reached for his hand, intertwining his fingers with mine. And then I kissed his palm, placing it on my cheek.

  “What am I going to do with you?” he asked, a small frown marring his forehead.

  Love me. Just love me.

  As if he saw the pleading in my eyes, he nodded. “If you are the moon, I am the stars. There are millions across the sky. I surround you.” He smiled.

  Oh, Caleb.

  I let out a deep breath, trying to relieve the heaviness in my chest. My heart felt full.

  I pillowed my cheek on his chest again, closing my eyes as I listened to his heartbeat.

  “I’m glad,” I admitted.

  There was comfort in silence and contentment in his touch. I was just drifting off to sleep, lulled by the rise and fall of his chest, when he cleared his throat.

  “Don’t get mad,” he muttered apprehensively.

  My body tensed. I looked up at him. He looked nervous.

  “I got you something else.”

  I couldn’t blame him being nervous, because every time he tried to give me something, I threw it back at him. But something had changed in me, something he had opened up or fixed, because I didn’t feel defensive or suspicious anymore.

  Because I knew he loved me. And it was real.

  “Okay.”

  “Sit here and wait for me. I won’t be long.”

  My heart beating wildly, I got up and sat on the wooden bench to wait for him. When Caleb came back, his green eyes were wide, the pupils dilated. He was raking his fingers in his hair, a sure sign that he was anxious.

  I expected him to be holding a gift box or a fancy paper bag, but he wasn’t holding anything. I stared up at him, but he only sat beside me.

  He tapped his long foot against the edge of my slipper, teasing.

  I tapped him back. “Did you forget the gift at your place?” I asked.

  He reached behind himself and presented a long, thin box.

  “I wanted to give you something to remember me every day,” he started, still sounding nervous. “I had this designed for you. Weeks ago.”

  I stared at the box he held before me, unable to move.

  “Open it, Red.” He smiled adorably, dimples appearing on his cheeks. “For me,” he added softly, his eyes beseeching.

  Slowly, I reached for it. Opened it.

  It was an elegant necklace with a butterfly pendant. The butterfly was silver, the size of a penny, with delicate scroll-like filigree inside the wings. Tiny diamonds encrusted the wings, glinting in the moonlight. A pear-shaped, blood-red ruby connected the wings.

  It was breathtaking. Mesmerizing.

  I didn’t miss the symbolism of it. A shaky breath shuddered out of me, tears pricking my eyes.

  “Do you like it?”

  Like it? I love it.

  But I could only nod. I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, I would start crying.

  “Do you remember the story I told you about the green caterpillar and the butterfly?”

  I nodded again. He smiled gently, as if he knew what I was feeling. Maybe he did. Caleb knew me like no one else did.

  “I’d like to see it on you.” He lifted it out of the case. “Please?”

  I had my hair up, so I turned around and let him place it around my neck. After he locked the clasp, he touched my shoulders and turned me to face him. His eyes were tender as he gazed at me.

  “You make everything beautiful, Red.”

  I cupped the pendant in my palm. “Caleb, this is terribly expensive.”

  His eyes turned dark and intense. “I would sell everything I own for you.”

  My breath caught, my hand falling limply to my lap.

  How could I respond to that? But even if I knew what to say, my throat had closed up. He reached out and rubbed my lower lip with his thumb, back and forth, back and forth. I held my breath, waiting for his kiss. Wishing for it. But then he leaned back against the bench, his gaze returning to the fire like he wa
s contemplating something.

  His mood had changed.

  Unsure, I waited for him to say something. Anything.

  After a moment, he spoke. “Want to hear a story?”

  I scooted next to him, our sides touching. I waited for him to reach for my hand, but he didn’t. “Of course.”

  He took a deep breath. “Once upon a time, there was a boy who had everything,” he began, his voice becoming deeper and warmer. “Or so he thought. One night, he decided to walk in the forest. He was bored, restless. There was something missing in his life, and he couldn’t figure out what it was. And then he saw a tiny, beautiful bird on the ground. Her wing was broken.

  “He picked her up very, very gently and took her home. He nursed her until her wing healed. He put her in a cage to prevent her from flying away and hurting herself more. And to prevent others from hurting her. You see, the cage was like a shield, a form of protection.

  “They were together every day after that. She sang for him, and it made him happy. After a few days, she was healed. Still, he kept her in the cage, worried that she’d be hurt again. But then she stopped singing.

  “The boy knew what he was doing was wrong. He was keeping her for himself. He was being selfish. She made him happy, filled those missing parts of himself, and made him feel content. He wanted to keep her, to own her.

  “But he found that he couldn’t endure it when she was sad, when she was lonely. He realized that all he wanted was to give her happiness, even at the expense of his own. So he opened the cage.” He paused, raking his hand through his hair. “And he let her go.”

  His eyes looked so sad, and they pulled me to him. I wanted to touch him, give him comfort, but I was scared that I would ruin the moment.

  I would forever regret that I didn’t trust him and had left him before.

  He took another deep breath. “She flew away and left him.”

  Now I reached for his hand, lacing our fingers together. “Did she come back?” I managed to ask.

  A small smile flitted on his lips. “Yes,” he replied, the sadness in his eyes disappearing. “She did.”

  I smiled back.

  “Sometimes I want to put you in a cage,” he confessed. His eyes were intense, passionate. “But you were the one who captured me. And I would gladly stay there and belong to you.”

  Something powerful was forming inside me. And it was drowning me deeper and deeper. But I didn’t want to come up for air.

  “I know I’m not exactly a prize. I’m stubborn and impulsive. Immature. I say and do stupid things all the time. But…”

  I looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

  “But please stay with me,” he said softly. “Stay.”

  My heart melted. I knew this time I wouldn’t be able to stop the tears. He got up suddenly, and before I could say anything, he was kneeling in front of me.

  I could hear the blood pounding in my ears as I watched him.

  My eyes widened as he presented me with a small jeweler’s box, like an offering. I noticed that he didn’t look nervous anymore. He looked, I realized, like a man who had been looking for something his whole life but had now found his answer. He looked as if peace had settled in him, calm and purposeful.

  My breath caught as I saw a ring lying in a bed of velvet. White diamonds surrounded a tear-shaped ruby in almost the same design as the necklace. Two tiny butterflies encrusted in diamonds flanked the dazzling red stone.

  “Red, will you be my wife?”

  Speechless, overwhelmed, I stared at him. I saw him swallow. Suddenly, his eyes filled with alarm.

  “I was going to wait for the perfect time after you graduated, but…I just needed to… I need…” He shut his eyes. He looked like he was in pain. “Red, will you marry me? Will you spend the rest of your life with me? Have kids with me? I’ll build you a house, buy you a dog…anything you want. Just say—”

  I fell into his arms, clasping his neck. He caught me easily, wrapping his strong arms around me.

  “Yes! Yes, Caleb. I’ll be your wife.”

  His hold tightened around me, and when he spoke again, his voice was gruff. “I love you, Red. You’re the only girl, the only one, who took my heart. Please don’t give it back.”

  “I won’t. I won’t,” I sobbed. “It’s mine.”

  “It’s yours. It’s always been yours.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Veronica

  “Red, come home with me tonight?” Caleb asked. “I miss waking up with you close to me.”

  I was no match against the power of his adorable dimples and insistent green eyes.

  So I told Caleb to wait for me in his car while I packed a change of clothes and some books for my class tomorrow. I moved as fast as I could, taking care to be quiet so as not to wake Kara.

  I was just placing a note for her on the fridge when my eyes landed on the engagement ring on my finger.

  God. I’m engaged to Caleb Lockhart.

  I pressed my hand to my stomach, feeling a flutter there.

  We hadn’t known each other long, but it felt like we had been through so much already. It felt like I had known him for a long time.

  It felt…so right.

  I grabbed my bag and stepped outside.

  “Hi,” he whispered.

  The sight of Caleb leaning against the car caught my breath. The light from the lamppost illuminated him: the way his eyes flickered with pleasure at the sight of me, the way his lips stretched into a gorgeous smile, and the way his long and lean body moved as he grabbed me by the waist and kissed me long and hard.

  It didn’t matter if everyone was against us. Caleb mattered. He was all that mattered.

  “Hi, yourself,” I said breathlessly, my lips tingling from his kiss.

  “Ready?” He released me, opening the car door for me like the gentleman that he was.

  I watched as he walked around the car, admiring the confident way he moved, the way his eyes flicked to me through the windshield. He opened the door and slid into the car, a huge grin on his face as he turned to face me.

  “Hi again, my Red.”

  We just sat there for a moment, looking at each other with goofy smiles on our faces.

  “Finally,” he murmured.

  I knew what he meant. We were together—finally. We had just gotten back together, and everything around us seemed to be trying to pull us apart. But when Caleb was beside me and his eyes looked at me like I was his everything, nothing else mattered. It was overwhelming to feel this way about someone. But it felt really good.

  He reached for my hand and intertwined our fingers before he stepped on the gas. The roads were empty as we drove to Caleb’s apartment. I pushed the button to open the window, closing my eyes as the air teased my hair and skin. It felt good.

  “Red, about this dinner with my mom…”

  I tensed. His hand tightened against mine as he threw me a worried look.

  “It’s actually a dinner party. It’s my birthday.”

  His birthday?

  I groaned, covering my face with my hands.

  How did I not even know his birthday?

  I’d never asked, and he’d never told me. Birthdays just didn’t hold good memories for me.

  “She throws a party for me now and then at our house. My mom still lives there. You’ll be able to see where I grew up. There’s a lake in the backyard,” he continued excitedly. “I can take you to see my cottage on the property. It’s a small one. Ben, my…dad, and I built it.”

  Now I was the one who squeezed his hand to offer comfort.

  “When is your birthday?” I asked quietly, ashamed.

  His face fell. “You don’t know when my birthday is?” He pouted.

  I worried my bottom lip, but then I saw his lips twitch from trying to suppress his lau
ghter.

  “Caleb!”

  He laughed. “I was born June 25. A big, healthy, handsome baby boy. I know when your birthday is. It’s September 15, isn’t it?”

  I felt my shoulders tense.

  “I asked Kar,” he clarified. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t ask about your birthday before. I’ll remember it from now on.”

  He threw me a quick look, his eyes searching my face, checking if something was wrong.

  “It’s okay, Red,” he said after a moment.

  “When is the party?”

  “I don’t know the exact date yet, but it’s after finals. So it’s perfect. You have time to get me a gift.”

  I pursed my lips to keep from grinning again. “Who’s going to be there?”

  “Vampires and werewolves,” he teased. “Just people, Red. I’ll be there beside you as long as you want me to.”

  “Will you chew my food and spoon-feed me too?” I fluttered my lashes at him.

  He looked blank for a few seconds before he threw his head back and laughed.

  Caleb parked his car in the underground garage of his building, got out, and opened my door for me. He reached for my bag before he grabbed my hand and led me to the elevators.

  When we entered his apartment, his hand tightened around mine, and I looked up at him.

  He was grinning.

  I knew how he felt. I was home. We were home.

  “I’m just going to get something to drink.”

  “Okay. I’ll meet you in the kitchen—be right back.”

  “Okay.”

  I opened the fridge, looking for something to nibble on. Had he eaten yet? Maybe I could prepare something for him.

  Suddenly, I heard “Storm” by Lifehouse playing through the speakers. Caleb only played Lifehouse when he was in a sentimental mood. I smiled and hummed to myself.

  Not even a minute had passed when I heard him enter the kitchen. I was bent over, looking in the fridge, searching for the eggs and ham so I could make him an omelet.

  “I guess you haven’t gotten groceries yet,” I commented absently, frowning at the contents—or lack thereof—in the fridge.

  “Caleb?” I asked when there was no response.