Arcadia's Gift - By Jesi Lea Ryan Page 0,78

through as well as I could before steeling myself to face Cane.

I assumed he wanted to apologize for his behavior the night before, but judging from the scorching vibes he had been throwing off, it would probably be a lie. He didn’t regret that kiss, and truth be told, neither did I. What is wrong with me? I like Bryan Sullivan, not Cane Matthews!

I closed my eyes and took ten deep yoga breaths in an attempt to clear my head. It didn’t work.

“Cane,” I called, knowing he was close by. “You can come in now.”

With my hands folded behind my back, I leaned against my dresser for support. A few seconds later, the door knob turned. Cane stepped inside and shut it behind him again. With tentative steps, he approached me as if I were a wild animal about to bolt. My heart raced under his forceful stare and the hair on my arms stood on end.

“Since you can feel what I’m feeling, I guess there’s no point in hiding it,” he said softly. “Don’t worry, I know where things stand with you and Bryan. He’s a decent guy. Not good enough for you, but…” He shrugged and gave a sad grin.

“Cane —”

He stood in front of me now, so close I could smell the woodsy scent of his soap. He placed the tip of his index finger to my mouth. “Wait. I have something I want to ask you. Do you remember the first time we met?”

Honestly, I didn’t. I know we hadn’t gone to the same junior high school, so it must have been sometime in ninth grade. I shook my head.

The ghost of a smile touched his lips. “I didn’t think so. I’ll have to tell you about it sometime when your boyfriend isn’t pacing outside the door.”

The thought of Bryan should have put a damper on the swell of heat rising in my chest, but it didn’t. With Cane this close and his feelings for me so clear, I could do nothing but succumb to my echoing response. I clenched my hands together tighter to keep from reaching for him, from wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders, twining my fingers through his honey-colored hair and pulling him to me. My lips parted to speak, but no words would come.

Cane leaned in closer and spoke in a whisper. “I’m not sorry I kissed you, Cady. I want to be. I mean, I wish I hadn’t been drunk, and I wish you had been a more willing participant —“

“You didn’t think I was willing?”

He sucked in a quick breath and looked at me with eyes blazing green and gold. The hope he felt at my question was like ice water on my growing passion. I was with Bryan. I couldn’t let Cane hope for more. It was never going to happen. I slipped out from where he had me cornered and put several feet of separation between us.

“I-I just mean,” I stammered, eyes trained on the carpet between us. “It wasn’t all your fault. I seem to recall taking my time in pushing you away.”

Neither of us said anything for a minute. I didn’t need to see his face to feel the weight of his eyes pinning me where I stood. I couldn’t look at him. I feared if I did, I would launch myself into his arms. Where in the hell are these feelings coming from? Finally, he cleared his throat.

“I better go.” The twinge of reluctance in his statement was palpable. “You should get some rest today.”

He took a step toward me, but when I flinched, he stopped. A spark of something flashed in him and I immediately understood —he thought I was afraid of him.

“If you need anything, I’m only a phone call away.”

With that he crossed the room and drew the door closed behind him.

I flopped down on my bed, drawing the spare pillow to my chest and pulled the covers up to my neck. My mind spun in a million different directions. Please let me be wrong, I silently pleaded. I couldn’t have read him right. I rolled over and curled my knees up to my chest. Even worse was my response. I could barely admit it to myself, but there was no denying it. The feelings that swelled up inside me the night before when Cane pressed his lips to mine were the same ones that I felt when Bryan kissed me and held me close. Did I really have feelings