Page 49 of InfraRed
Be irritated, Sunflower. Remember how strong you are.
“Why did you pick me up? Or tell Lucinda I’myourgirl? Or… I don’t know. Everything. Just why? Especially when you know it can’t happen?”
“Why can’t it?” I try not to growl, but it doesn’t work. We’ve been through this twice now, and I’m not a patient person.Casey is the only person who’s ever received a modicum, but repeating myself is getting old fast. I’m trying to remember this is expected, given the last few years, but it’s difficult.
“You know why, Graham.” She turns in her seat as much as the belts allow and looks at me. “People won’t approve. They’ll gossip. You’re a high-profile, public figure. It will be a scandal.”
“And why would I care about what people say?”
“You obviously did before because you left,” she mutters so low that I almost miss it. It seems like that move will bite me in the ass for a while. She waves her hand around, pretending what she said doesn’t matter, and continues with her speech. “Of course, you don’t care. You’re a billionaire now, and just… you. But I’m not like you. I can’t handle it. I can’t handle the way they stare at me, and then immediately start whispering. I know they’re laughing because I’m too tall and skinny. My eyes are too big, my nose too small. I know I’m not attractive, and that’s okay. But when I see them point and whisper, then laugh like I’m the inside joke… Then let’s not forget how damn weird I am. A simple conversation is awkward because I either never say a thing or I say everything in a bubbling burst of word vomit. They look at me like I’ve grown a second head when I offer my opinion.” She says it all without taking a breath.
I’m speechless. She didn’t say anything I didn’t expect because it’s almost verbatim what I’ve caught Krista saying a few times. I just fucking hate that the woman’s toxicity has polluted Casey’s mind, turning it into a war zone fighting against her.
“EvenifI still had a crush on you, it wouldn’t matter because, while you might not care what people think, I cannot handle the pointed stares and whispers. Besides, I’m not risking alienating my—our—family because you don’t enjoy being told no or want to chase the forbidden or whatever has come over you lately. It’s not worth it when we both know you’ll get bored and move onbecause I am not your type.”
I flip the blinker and turn down the street that leads to her apartment a little too hard. My teeth grind as I try to control my irritation. “So you keep telling me, so I’m curious, Case, what exactly is my type?”
Dubious irritation slithers over her face, pulling her mouth into a thin-stretched scowl. “Youknowwhat your type is, Graham. It’s Elise, and the million other girls just like her that you’ve been seen withforever.”
So, she was paying attention the other night. “I like you jealous,” I smirk.
“I’m not jealous, Graham.” The tightness in her voice belies her words, but I don’t call her on it. “It’s just a fact. Need me to name more? Jessamine? Malia? Violet? All cute, petite, curvy girls with confidence and big personalities.”
She just named every girl I ever brought home when she was a kid. But her mind has twisted them all into carbon copies of the other. “Case, Malia was a six-foot tall college volleyball player and had no curves at all. Jessamine was an accounting major who hyperventilated at her own twenty-first birthday party. I don’t have a type, Casey. Not the way you’ve convinced yourself.”
Her mouth opens and closes a few times, and I hope I’ve gotten through. Then I see the rejection of my words flicker through her eyes, her mind winning the battle, and I want to ring her goddamn neck. “Well,I’mnot your type, Graham, because I’m no one’s type.”
“Casey, why don’t you see how fucking stunning you are? When women stare at you, it’s because they’re jealous. As far as men,” I drag my hand down my face, recalling every fucking man at that party, the club… even the damn dads picking up their kids at the studio staring at her with unrestrained looks of desire, “theywant you but know you’re out of their league.”
She chuckles a humorless sound as she glares at me with what I can only call bitter incredulity. “You’re mistaken, and the proof is the fact that I’m twenty years old, and I’ve had one boyfriend and six dates, all of which were first dates. They never led to a second. If that isn’t telling…” My head falls against the headrest with a groan. The urge to spill my guts—to tell her I am why she’s never had a second date. I knew about all her dates and would relaymessagesto ensure a second never happened. It sounds improbable, I know. New York is a massive place, but it wasn’t as hard as it sounds to ensure word spread amongst the people that she’d have access to. And she self-isolates, so that worked in my favor. I feel like a dick because I played a big part in her lack of self-confidence, but before I can confess my sins, she speaks again. “But for argument’s sake, let’s say you’re right. Maybe to some people, I’m attractive, so if it’s not my looks, it’s my personality. No one wants the timid little inexperienced virgin who…” Her words trail off as her cheeks turn the brightest shade of red I’ve ever seen, and her eyes grow comically wide.
I know she’s a virgin. If I spent years making sure no one ever asked for a second date, do you think I let anyone get close enough to get in her pants? If I could’ve prevented the dates and any touching at all, I would have. Judge me all you like. I never claimed to be sane, and what little I had vanished about four years ago when she kissed me.
I pull into her building’s private parking, find a space, and stop the car. She’s already hopping out of the car when I cut the engine, so I waste no time climbing out and getting to her. I grab her wrist, bringing her back to me, then spin her so her back is to the car. The thought of spreading her out on the hood takes root in my mind. Her milky skin against the metallic black paint with that pink pussy on display while I feast on her…
Focus, douchebag.
She looks over my shoulder as if the concrete walls of the parking garage are the most fascinating thing she’s ever seen, cheeks still flushed from her declaration. I grip her chin firmly and force myself into her line of sight. When she still avoids my eyes, I give her chin a little jerk. “Eyes on me. Now.” Her snap to mine without hesitation.Always such a good girl.“You are fucking perfect. There’s not a damn thing I would change about youexceptyour lack of self-confidence. Your only flaw, Casey, is that you don’t see what I see.” I slant my mouth over hers, swallowing her gasp. Her fingers wrap around the fabric of my jacket as she melts into the kiss, her sweet, timid tongue tangling with mine.
Then she breaks the kiss. I’m tempted to drag her mouth back to mine, but I don’t. I’ve been moving at the speed of light with her, pushing her hard and fast because I need her so badly.
What? It’s not like I haven’t been patient. I’ve been waiting fucking years.
She presses her fingers to her lips for a moment. I like that every time I kiss her, she’s left dazed. Her chest rises with a deep breath as her eyes flutter. Then she meets mine. “Th-thank you for the ride. I-um… I should go.”
I step aside as she runs past me, slipping my hands into my pockets and watching her scurry into the elevator with a grin as I lean against the car. “Right behind you, Sunflower,” I chuckle as the doors close, then look at my watch and begin the countdown. “I’m not nearly done with you for the night.”
Casey
Water drips down my body as I step out of the shower that did nothing to calm my rampant thoughts, the war waging in my heart, or the need raging like an inextinguishable wildfire through my body. My lips part with an annoyed sigh as I reach for a towel, wrap it around my hair, then grab another and dry off my body. When my skin is no longer damp, I wrap my soft, cotton robe around me, and I sit on the side of the jetted tub and begin moisturizing my legs. My mind replays the conversation with Graham in the car and in the garage.
He called me beautiful. No, not beautiful. He said perfect. Any other time, I would’ve rolled my eyes. I would’ve believed he was just saying it out of obligation, but the look in his eyes told me the word wasn’t a platitude. Neither was that kiss. The entire interaction was spent trying to convince me that he wants me, while I tried my hardest to refute every word.
My skin heats as I recall my loud declaration about my sexual experience in my attempt to prove him wrong. I can’t believe I said that to him. Worse, he didn’t seem all that surprised, which is so utterly humiliating, but the one time it almost happened, he interrupted. As much as I protested back then, I’m not sorry he did, but it doesn’t make me feel any less embarrassed.
Then I remember him dangling that damn wand Lily insisted I buy. It wasn’t a lie when I told him I used it for my legs and feet.I’ve stuck to my little vibrator and fingers because, honestly, I’ve been too terrified to do more.
And that shows how pathetic I am.