Caspian: The Not So Friendly Ghost
Page 136
Our family.
I reached toward the paper, but my fingers slipped through it before I could touch the edge. I stared at the drawing, anyway, wondering how the fuck I was supposed to give my son a baby sister when I wasn’t even alive.
But I knew one thing: I wasn’t about to spend another six years watching somebody else live the life I should’ve had. I wasn’t about to sit in my own fucking house while another nigga married my woman, raised my son, and gave her the babies I was supposed to give her.
Fuck that.
I looked toward the doorway Lakelyn had disappeared through.
Somehow, someway, I was going to give my son the family he wanted, and it damn sure wasn’t going to involve another nigga getting my woman pregnant.
Chapter fifteen
Lakelyn
Iknew I was dreaming… had to be.
Because there was no way Caspian Black was lying in bed beside me, looking at me like he had never left. Yet there he was—same charming eyes, same handsome face, same chain resting against his chest, and that same damn smile that used to make me forget every sensible thought I had.
“Come here, baby.”
I shook my head, my heart already pounding. “No.”
His smile widened. “No?”
“Caspian...” My voice came out softer than I intended. “This isn’t real.”
He reached for me, his hand settling against my cheek, and I froze.
His skin was so warm.
I had dreamed about Caspian more times than I could count, but something about that was different. Usually, the dreams were blurry. His face would change, or I would hear his voice without being able to find him. Sometimes, right when I got close enough to touch him, he would disappear.
But this?
I could see every detail of his face, feel the weight of his hand, and even the mattress moved when he shifted closer.
“Look at me, Lakelyn.”
I did, and he brushed his thumb across my cheek.
“Stop thinking so damn much.”
I laughed softly, the sound catching in my throat. “You always used to tell me that.”
“Because you always did it.”
Caspian leaned in and kissed me, and my eyes fell closed almost immediately.
God, that kiss.
He took his time at first, his lips moving slowly against mine like he was reminding me of something my body had never really forgotten. Then I started kissing him back, and whatever restraint he had disappeared. His arm tightened around my waist as he pulled me closer, and I wrapped mine around his neck, pressing myself against him.
For those few seconds, everything else faded away: the house, the six years between us, every unanswered question I still had about where he had been and why he never came back.
None of it mattered.
All I could think about was how familiar his mouth felt against mine and how badly I had missed being kissed by him.