Page 42 of Crazy for You
My gut was telling me he was getting close to joining Mom. Frankly, I believed he was still here because he had unfinished business to take care of, and as soon as those things were in order, he would finally give in to his fate.
My phone chirped in the peaceful air, making me flinch. I plucked the annoying thing out of my back pocket, and when I did, Dad’s letter fell to the ground. I went to grab it when a hard wind blew, taking the letter with it.
Fuck!I flew to my feet as if an invisible being had picked me up. I chased the letter as though it would save my life.
But the wind held the letter in its grasp, blowing it across the cemetery.
I dodged stone angels and other religious figures, more gravestones, a dying wreath, and several trees. I couldn’t lose that letter. I ran like a gazelle, darting in one direction then the other as the wind seemed to be playing with me, a game of tag like the ones I’d played at recess in elementary school.
The wind died, and the letter floated to the ground. I reached out to grab it when the universe said, “No, Skyler, you can’t have it just yet.” I was again chasing Dad’s heartfelt words, attempting not to kill myself by face-planting on concrete or falling into the empty grave that loomed ahead.
I looked down for a split second and plowed into what felt like stone but was really a solid wall of muscle. I stumbled back and glanced up at the most beautiful creature, who had graced my dreams and psyche for the last month.
Colton bent down and plucked the letter from under his Nike. He examined the piece of paper. “This must contain secrets for you to almost kill yourself.” His raspy Southern drawl wrapped me in gooey warmth.
He had no idea. I huffed and puffed to regulate my breathing as I snatched the letter from him before he thought to open it. “Thank you.”
I pinched the letter in my grasp so tightly that someone would need a chisel to pry it out of my hands. I was afraid even to shove it in my pocket, in case I lost it for good if the wind wanted to mess with me again.
Colton studied my hand, his expression loaded with questions.
I had a few of my own. I opened my mouth to ask, and then noticed the name Caldwell on the gravestone to my right. A twisted part of me was hoping he’d been following me, just not in a creepy way.
Two beats passed as our gazes tangled, knotted, and molded. He was sucking me into his brown depths, and I felt like I was falling into a vat of chocolate—warm, sweet, and delicious.
Shivers trailed down my spine, and air seemed to be nonexistent. He had a way of making me feel things I’d never felt before. He also had a way of making me a pile of mush.
I watched him watch me, my heart beating a staccato rhythm that I was afraid he could hear, since we were almost toe-to-toe. Dead foliage kicked up around us, as did his scent—a concoction of rich earth whipped together with floral accents and topped with a spoonful of sugar that seeped into every vein, relaxing me, exciting me.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, breaking the trance he had me in.
“I could ask you the same thing.” As the drunken haze Colton had put me into wore off, I noticed the whites of his eyes were red. Maybe it was the glow of dusk that streaked the horizon.
His chin ticked up, setting his jaw in place as though he was ready to do battle. “I’m not stalking you. I was here first.”
At least I could get a glimpse of his emotions rather than his usual blank mask, and his tone screamed annoyance.
I laughed for no other reason than to quiet my pulse. The guy was imposing, intimidating, and downright gorgeous. His biceps peeked through his Deer Run Academy T-shirt, the sleeves frayed on the edges. His hair was seemingly damp, either from sweat or a recent shower, and his ripped jeans hung low on his hips. His square belt buckle glistened in the waning daylight.
He folded his arms over his impressive chest. “What’s so funny?”
Me. My thoughts. My crazy idea that we’re alone in a cemetery with no one else around but the dead. Wouldn’t it be odd, cool, nuts, to make out among the dead? Okay, I’m losing my mind.
Images of him pressing me up against the tree behind him, trailing his lush lips down my neck, and feeling his body against mine played out in my head. I puffed out my cheeks, not knowing what to say next until my gaze wandered to the headstone. That time, I zeroed in on the full name—Josh Caldwell.
He followed my line of sight, his body going ramrod straight as though I’d invaded a private moment.
I guessed I had, but not intentionally. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw.
My heart severed in half, but that time for him and not for my own depressing life. “I’m also sorry for being insensitive at Grady’s house the other day. I chose the wrong word.” As in drowning. I didn’t want to say that word again.
His shoulders rose to his earlobes.
“I also wanted to thank you.”
His head turned, but he kept his focus on the ground.
