“So good that you’re back home already? What happened?”
“Why do you think something happened?” He’s right. Something did happen; I just don’t know what.
“Because everything about you looks different,” he replies, pushing me as I come back down.
I suddenly wish I could take flight and fly away from this mess. But I know Cayden. He won’t let this go, and he’s currently in control of where I go. So with no other choice, I bare it all.
“I’ve been trying so hard to remember, but I can’t help but wonder what happens when I do. What happens if I’m not the good guy? What happens if there’s a reason I can’t remember?” I’ve grappled with these fears since the moment I woke to this nightmare, and the small shreds of evidence I have uncovered point to a disturbing truth.
There is a secret so dark, so sinister, that it appears my body has gone into self-preservation mode and won’t allow me to unearth just who I really was.
“Everyone has secrets, Peyton. Sometimes those secrets are there for a reason. They’re there to protect. They’re there to stop you from breaking one’s heart.” If I wasn’t mid-swing, I would be frozen to the spot because it’s evident he can relate. “We’re all complicated. That’s what being human is. No one is perfect. We all fuck up and make mistakes. But what’s important is not the mistakes we make but, rather, how we correct them. That’s what defines who we are.”
Wow, this is the most he’s spoken to me in three days. Maybe this place is cathartic for him too?
“Even you, the cool, calm, and collected Cayden Coachman, make mistakes? I don’t believe it,” I mock, needing to lighten the mood.
“I’ve made plenty of mistakes. Ones I will forever make amends for.” His tone turns sorrowful, and I remember his admission to Hazel.
“I’ll never forget. It’ll always be…she’ll always be…the biggest regret of my life.”
Once again, a shiver passes over me. “Are you cold?” Cayden asks, unaware of my inner thoughts. He grips the rope, gently pulling it back to stop me from swinging. I end up cocooned in his embrace as he wraps an arm around my waist to stop me from falling. He doesn’t let go of me or the rope. I’m suspended midair in his arms, but I’ve never felt more free.
His warm breath brushes against the side of my neck, and as always, I’m basking in the scent of the ocean. Normally, I would be able to mask my feelings, but a tiny moan slips past the floodgates, alerting him to the effect he has on me.
I expect him to let me go, but he doesn’t. He draws me back farther as the lines where I end and where he begins blur. The contact shoots an electrical current straight through me, and I shamelessly rub my legs together.
How is it possible that he elicits this response from me every single time? My body has somehow always been in sync with his, and now apparently, so is my breathing. His usual cool demeanor is uncharacteristically shattered when his heaving chest reveals he feels whatever this is too.
I don’t know whether to be relieved or frightened beyond belief. This can only lead to trouble.
Without thought, I clutch at the ribbon, its silky texture providing solace, but that soon turns to utmost yearning when Cayden slowly wraps his hand around mine. The warmth of his touch and the heat of his skin has me wetting my lips.
Leaning over my shoulder, he inhales softly, nuzzling my hair and the sweep of my neck. I hold my breath, never wanting more than to turn around and connect with those sinful lips. It would require just the smallest of movements, but nothing is easy about that scenario.
“You smell like a summer storm,” he whispers, his heated breath causing goose bumps to prick my skin. “Just moments before the sky is about to open and wreak havoc, the air fills with sweet anticipation because everything is soon to be reborn. You smell just like that. An untainted tempest, washing away the bitterness and replacing it with clarity.”
I can relate to every word he says because, isn’t that how I felt when I first arrived—that storms clear away our sins and present us with a second chance?
“It’s my new perfume,” I whisper, attempting to steer the conversation away from wanting to devour him whole.
But he doesn’t allow the derailment. Not this time. “No, Peyton”—he lowers his lips, severing my self-control when he places a single kiss on my racing pulse—“it’s you.”
This isn’t normal behavior you’d share with a stranger, someone you only just met, but Cayden isn’t a stranger. He never was. Not holding back, I confess my fears. “And who am I, Cayden?”
Not being able to see him makes this easier. It allows me to delve into depths I would usually be too afraid to explore. His grip on me tightens as he skims his fingertips up and down my side. “You’re whoever you want to be. Don’t you see…you’re trying so hard to remember, but most of us, we’re trying so hard to forget.”
“What are you trying to forget?”
“Everything,” he replies, stiffening. “But I don’t have the luxury of forgetting.” I know he isn’t belittling my situation; I understand what he means. After tonight, I don’t know if I want to remember who I was. But Cayden wrestles with his demons every single day.
We stay nestled, joined together in innocence as the air weighs heavily with an unspoken promise. Our hands are still linked, the ribbon our anchor. Remembering is suddenly not as important as it once was because I’m making a new memory, one I will never forget.
Eventually, he releases me but guides the swing and supports it, so it comes to a full stop. I miss his warmth, his smell, his connection, instantly. Instead of standing, I stay seated, skimming over the blades of grass with my toes. “I should call Lacey. I kind of bailed on her,” I confess guiltily.
“I’m sure Gunn is keeping her company.”
My mouth hinges open. “How did you know?”
“I know my sister,” he replies confidently. I shouldn’t be surprised. “I’ll walk you home?” The thought of leaving has me tightening my hold on the rope, but I slowly let go. Now that I’ve crossed the invisible line, I plan on returning as soon as I can.
Standing, I take a breath, knowing I can no longer hide in the shadows of the night. Turning unhurriedly, I stand still when I finally lock eyes with Cayden. There is no denying his incredible looks, but that’s not what I want. What’s inside his heart is what sings to me the most. Cayden guards a painful past, but those secrets have shaped him to be the strongest person I know.
I don’t realize I’m staring, lost in thought until he saunters forward, and I’m basking in his scent all over again. “Ready?” I nod, snapping from my Cayden bubble, and we begin a slow walk toward my house.
Cayden’s hands furl into loose fists before he shoves them into the pockets of his jeans. I sigh because I thought we made progress. “I’ve ordered a few things for the house. They’ll arrive tomorrow. Are you okay with me coming over in the morning?” He’s asking permission, which is new. I’m so accustomed to Cayden ordering, not asking.
“Of course. I’ll give you my keys and get another set cut tomorrow. It’ll just make things easier,” I clarify as flashes of tonight’s conversation and me questioning my morals arise. I refuse to entertain the notion. I can’t. Not with Cayden near.
“All right. That works. As long as you don’t mind me coming over unannounced. I may need to let myself in while you’re at work. Delivery guys come at all hours.” His innocent comment has me falling quiet, and Cayden senses my retreat. “I’ll make sure I call first then.”
“No, it’s not that.” I shake my head as he has misunderstood my retreat. “I don’t even know if I’ll be returning to work. Well, not the job I was doing before this all started.”
“And what was that?” he asks, staring straight ahead.