looked up he'd see my shame and humiliation.
"I went there to see one person," he said.
When my eyes darted up to his, I found that they were as velvety and absorbing as his voice. They made me feel so many things, all at once, that I was overwhelmed by sensation.
"You don't love him, do you?"
Bo didn't need to include any names in his question. I knew exactly who he was talking about, and without hesitation, I shook my head in answer.
"Good," he said, bending his head to mine.
When he kissed me this time, it was with passion. His mouth devoured mine and I thought there was probably nothing more I wanted in the whole world than to be consumed by him. I gave myself up to it. I'd wanted this since the first time I'd laid eyes on him. I wanted his lips on mine, his hands in my hair, his focus on me and nothing else.
My fingers were fisted in his shirt, hanging on for dear life when Bo lifted his head with a quick jerk. Out of the blue, he whispered, "We'll talk tomorrow."
And then he was gone. I didn't even see him go, something I attributed to my spinning head and clouded senses. I just looked around and he was nowhere. Just gone.
A fraction of a second later, I heard my dad's stern voice at the door. "Ridley, get in the house."
The brisk winds of reality quickly blew the fog right out of my mind. If it hadn't been for the cool moisture on my lips from his kiss, I might've wondered if Bo had been a figment of my imagination. But when I touched my fingers to my mouth, I could still feel him there.
With a smile of satisfaction in place, I made my way inside and back to my room where I laid down and fell immediately into a sleep that was filled with dreams of Bo and his breathtaking kisses.
********
The next morning, we went to church, making our weekly foray into the spiritual realm. What used to be a family that enjoyed a close relationship with God was now one that observed nothing more than the appearance of clinging to religion. All three of us were about as hollow, as wounded and as far from God as we'd ever been.
Church was always a tense experience, tense and draining. The effects of it were emotionally staggering. Afterward, as I did every Sunday, I spent the rest of the day in a delicate tap dance of evasion, determined to avoid another energy-sapping family performance. I stayed in my room the entire afternoon, coming out only for food and drink.
It affected Mom and Dad, too. They pretended to be engrossed in any number of consuming projects, anything to avoid...life.
There was only one problem with staying in my room: it brought other unsavory issues to the forefront. My phone rang way too much to allow for a peaceful day. Drew called several times, as did Trinity, neither of whom I was particularly anxious to talk to. I got calls from numerous other people, none of which I answered, all wanting to talk about what happened at Caster's.
The only person that I really wanted to hear from was the one person that had yet to make an appearance, physical or electronic, and it wasn't doing good things for my mood.
By the time darkness had fallen, I was as prickly as I could ever remember being and I was suffering from a severe case of cabin fever. Cutting off my light, I yanked up my blinds and threw open the window then pulled a chair up in front of it and made myself comfortable.
I loved the night - the peacefulness of it, the smell of it, the sounds. It was about as close to being alone in the world as I ever felt. Not that I really strived for solitude. It was more that I was always in the company of some person or persons that drained me in some way or another, like they were sucking the life from me. Sometimes I just wanted to be left alone; sometimes, I needed time to heal.
Movement in the side yard caused my heart to leap in my chest. My first alarming thought was that someone was trying to break into the house.