"To be in a real relationship." I shrugged but heard the real curiosity and confusion in his tone. Spitfire: Can't wait! Then another text. Spitfire: For my food. I felt a grin split my face. "You know, I watched this horror film about possession the other day," Caleb said, shoving fries in his mouth. He faked a shiver, shoulders shaking. "Is that why you're smiling so much nowadays?" I ignored him and replied to Kara's message. "For all I know it's not really you I'm talking to," he added. She replied right away. My grin felt wider as I texted back. "So, whoever you are, I get my friend's soul back, right?" Caleb asked casually. I glanced out the window, rubbing the back of my neck, grinning. "Fuck off, Lockhart." "That's more like it. Welcome back, Cameron. How was the other side, buddy?" "Burning." "Sweet." I looked up when the truck stopped. Caleb had parked in front of a bungalow. "No kidding? That color looks exactly like the avocado sandwich my date ordered yesterday and the salmon I ate for dinner last night." He was right. "I'm sure she's going to want to change this." "I'll come in with you, see if she needs help." "Alright. Thanks." "Sure thing." Kara wasn't kidding, I thought with a sigh as I opened the front door and music blasted my ears, she'd left the front door open. I was going to have to talk to her about that, I thought, noting the place smelled like fresh paint and dust. In the middle of the living room was the heart-shaped couch, still wrapped in plastic. So this was Tala's present for her. Kara had sent a picture of it to me earlier. The rooms were generously spacious and open, windows were huge and looked new, but I'd check them later to make sure they were secure. No cracks on the foundation, not that I saw anyway. I'd check that too. Maybe get an inspector to— "She wouldn't mind that we smell like the sewer, would she?" Caleb asked. "Probably." Caleb yawned. I yawned, ready to pass out. My muscles were screaming from overuse. And it was probably a good idea to go home and shower first, but that would take too long. I wanted to see her right away. All day long my nightmares and dark thoughts had followed me like a hound from hell, but I kept them at bay. The thought of seeing Kara at the end of it kept me going. "Kara!" Caleb called out, but I doubted she'd hear us with this music. I couldn't even hear myself breathe. We passed by the kitchen, startled to find two guys working on the flooring. It was late and they should have gone by now. Caleb sauntered over to them and chatted with them as if they were his long-lost best friends. When he made them laugh after a few seconds of conversation, I wasn't even surprised. Caleb was a very likeable guy and could make you vote him for president. It was a talent. The music got louder as we neared one of the bedrooms. Kara was in there. Suddenly Caleb laughed. "That shit-eating grin on that ugly face says it all," he said, smiling as he looked at me. "You like her that much, huh?" I do. Then we stepped in the bedroom. And my grin melted away. Gut clenching as I stared at the scene before me. "Damn," Caleb hissed beside me. In my peripheral, I saw him turn toward me, felt his eyes boring into my face. In her text messages, Kara mentioned she was painting, that she was having fun. That there was a huge possibility that she might change the paint color and she needed my help to pick the right one. She'd texted about Dylan's birthday—how he'd chosen to celebrate it with his friends now that he was at the legal age to drink. He'd gotten shit-faced and was puking his guts out all night and morning, swore that he'd never drink again, but apparently drank again the next day with Karen, their mother. She'd texted about a lot of things. What she didn't text about was the guy standing beside her. Maybe there wouldn't be an ugly storm inside my chest if they were just standing beside each other, painting and chatting normally. But it was obvious that there was something between them. Kara was carefully painting a wall beside a guy who had a brush on his hand, but instead of working, he was looking at her, making her laugh. He said something that made her stop and glare at him. In a quick flash of movement, she grabbed his bandana and pulled it off, throwing it behind her. In retaliation, he painted her face. She shrieked, backing away while laughing uproariously. She dipped her brush in the can of paint, shook it at him. He laughed, moved his head away from her as he dunked his hands in the can of paint, threatening her with them as he turned to chase her. His hands reached out for her, grabbed her arm, but she slipped, and he ended up grabbing her shirt, pulling her to him. She landed against him, his arms automatically wrapping around her waist to keep her steady. The sharp nails of jealousy clawed on my skin. I barely registered that Caleb moved away. The music stopped. They froze. Kara's eyes, those eyes that never failed to slay me, zeroed in on me with shock. "Cameron!" Fuck me. Just fuck me. A hundred thoughts raced in my head. All of them dark, all of them dragging me down. But her face lit up, hazel eyes filling with pleasure as she looked at me. It was like witnessing the sun rise behind the trees until its light burst into the world, beautiful and blinding. The look she gave me made the darkness disappear. She pushed him off, squealed as she ran toward me, leaped up so that she was wrapped around me like a monkey. There she is. My Spitfire. The tightness in my stomach eased. "Finally!" She hugged me tighter, a little longer. "You're here. Cameron." She murmured my name in my ear, and I hugged her tighter, a little longer. Then she pulled back a little, biting her lip as she looked at my face. "Where's my food?"