Darkness Deceives - Katie May Page 0,4

in. I proceed to chew off all of my fingernails when Auston finally stirs from his comatose state. He shakes his head, and his eyes become blue once more as he looks at us, frantic.

“I know where she is. Follow me.” His cryptic words allow for no questions as he stands and rushes through the door. I don’t know where he’s taking us, but I follow behind him like an obedient dog. Because I’d follow him to the ends of the Earth and beyond to find Hadley.

Chapter 3

Hadley

“It smells great,” I exclaim, leaning against the countertop. It smells more than great, actually. It smells both heavenly and decadent, a juxtaposition if I’ve ever heard one.

“Only the best for you,” Caius teases, mixing the bowl of spaghetti. The scent of tomato sauce and parmesan teases my nostrils, eliciting an almost orgasmic moan from low in my throat.

I reach around my lover to grab plates and silverware, methodically setting the table.

It all feels rather…mundane. I half expect to wake up in the morning and get ready for my nine-to-five job. It’s moments like this—moments with just the two of us—I feel alive. Only Caius is able to evoke such a reaction from me, as if even death is a trivial, unimportant matter.

It—death—didn’t stop us from falling in love.

And it sure as hell isn't going to stop us from living.

“Are the tomatoes freshly squeezed?” I inquire in the snottiest voice I can muster. “I only eat organic tomatoes.”

He rolls his eyes at my teasing, placing the hot pan on the table and grabbing a salad bowl.

“And the cheese is freshly grated. Milked the cow myself,” he jests before turning back to the fridge. Yes, apparently there are fridges and electricity in the Afterlife. Don’t ask me why or how. I stopped questioning things a long time ago. “What type of dressing do you want for the salad?”

“Ranch, please,” I answer, propping my hip against the tabletop. Steam wafts from the dish, and my mouth actually begins to water. I’m sure if Aggie was here, she would’ve made some crude comment about my mouth watering for an entirely different reason…namely, Caius’s ass looking rather delectable in those form-fitting pants.

He straightens from where he was bent in front of the fridge and flashes me a small smile, no doubt noticing the direction of my heated gaze.

“This meal looks amazing,” I say, devouring the feast with my eyes. I practically gain twenty pounds just from looking at it.

“You look amazing,” he counters, a hand wrapping around my waist while the other still clutches the bottle of ranch. He presses a kiss to my temple. “You look beautiful, darling.”

“Thanks,” I reply automatically, but I can’t stop myself from scrubbing at my face, almost as if I can remove the evidence of his affection.

What the hell is the matter with me?

I love Caius more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything. He’s my world, my light.

And yet…

And yet something about his chaste kiss feels wrong. I can’t pinpoint what exactly it is. Maybe it’s my already amplified tension. Maybe it’s nerves.

I know in my heart that Caius is my soulmate, yet my body begs to differ.

Confused and conflicted by my reaction, I move to sit in the chair Caius gestures towards. He smiles at me disarmingly, and memories of our first time together move to the forefront of my mind. His body over mine, his hands painstakingly memorizing every dip and curve of my body, his lips feasting on my own.

We made love in the bedroom loft, and my body still tingles from just the memory.

A soft, dreamy smile erupts on my face before I can stop it.

“What’s that smile for?” Caius asks with a smile of his own. I’m momentarily struck dumb by his beauty—the raw masculinity and sexuality exuding from him in waves.

And he’s mine, I think smugly. All mine.

The words rush from my mouth before I can stop them. But trying to hold them in would be like trying to push back waves using your bare hands—impossible.

“I love you.”

Those three words sit between us, hanging suspended in the air like dust particles. His eyes widen slightly, almost imperceptibly, and his lips twitch.

Embarrassment floods me when he doesn’t immediately return the endearment.

Oh my God. I’m an idiot. An. Idiot. Think, Hadley, think. Maybe you can pretend to not speak English.

“I love you too,” Caius cuts through my embarrassed inner ramblings. Both his voice and eyes are sincere—diminishing all of my pesky doubts and insecurities—as he leans