Her Best Men

He shrugged. “I haven't found anyone I like just yet,” he said. “I pretty much know every girl in Black Oak, and honestly, none of them caught my eye. Not until you showed up again, anyway.”

I felt my cheeks flushing with color, and for a moment, I forgot how to speak. This gave him time to pounce on what he perceived to be an opening to push the issue.

“Are you seeing anyone?” he asked.

“Me?” I laughed. “I just got back in town, how could I have a boyfriend already?

”

“I mean back in California,” he said. “Or wherever.”

I stopped what I was doing and froze. It was a question I didn't want to answer and one that filled me with a powerful and overwhelming sense of dread. The memories of Leo and that whole situation bubbled up and I just looked at him, unable to say anything at all.

“I take that as a yes, then,” he said, his voice deflating a bit.

“Actually, I'm not. Not anymore,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “That's over.”

I expected some witty come-on, or smooth line, but instead, Cason surprised me.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

His tone was warm and sincere. And the expression on his face was nothing but pure compassion.

“Not really,” I answered honestly. “But, thank you for asking.”

He stared at me long and hard, and then his gaze fell to my arm. Before I could stop him, he reached out and pushed the sleeve of my sweater up.

“What are you –”

He stared down at my wrist; the same one that Quinn had seen earlier. A look of dark anger crossed his face as he looked at the bruise that circled my wrist. I was pissed at Quinn for telling him about it, and pissed at Cason for having the presumption to think he could corner me and force me to talk.

I pulled my arm back from him and pushed the sleeve down. “Don't do that again.”

“Who did that to you?” he asked.

“As I told your brother, no one.”

“Someone had to have done it,” he said. “I may not have been as good in Biology as you, but I'm pretty sure that bruises like that don't just spontaneously appear.”

I turned to leave the kitchen, and just like Quinn had done to me earlier, Cason wouldn't let me go. He followed me through the house until I reached the stairs. I just wanted to escape to my room, to be left alone, to avoid talking to anyone about what happened. Cason was making it difficult though. I turned to him, rage burning in my veins as I looked into his eyes.

“Hailey,” he said softly, reaching out for me.

His hand stroked my cheek and made me to close my eyes, to involuntarily lean into the touch. The tenderness of his caress and the gentleness of his voice worked together to help burn away some of the rage that was flaring inside of me. It had been so long since anyone had touched me in a gentle, caring way, and it felt nice. Too nice.

I expected him to keep at it, to keep questioning me, but instead, he surprised me yet again.

“If you don't want to talk about it, fine,” he said softly. “But, if someone is hurting you, we have your back. I want you to know that you're not alone.”

His words, spoken so gently, soothed me. It brought me comfort and made me feel safe, which was something I hadn't felt with a man in a very long time.

“Thank you,” I whispered, opening my eyes to meet his gaze.

His face was so close to mine and I felt his breath on my cheek. He leaned in closer, and before I knew it, his lips were pressed against mine. Like I had before with Quinn, I wanted to fight back. To push him away. My fists were on his chest, but instead of pushing him, I found myself pulling at his shirt. Pulling him toward me.

I clumsily stepped up on the stair behind me and he followed. His tongue danced in my mouth, literally stealing my breath away. In the other room, my mom said something to my dad that made him laugh, and their voices made the both of us jump, startled that someone might catch us. But my parents were still in the den, shut away from us.

Still that didn't make the feeling that we were horny teenagers sneaking into my bedroom under my parent's noses all over again, diminish in the least.