Unwritten Lines

Chapter 7: Lia - How do you have...

Lia

His mouth crashes into mine. I haven’t even processed that he’s here. The bottle slips from my hand and thuds against the floor, but I don’t move. I can’t, because Caden Zarrow is kissing me.

Again.

One of his hands grips my face, and the other tangles in my hair, pulling it slightly. His body presses into mine, pinning me to the bedroom door with a weight that knocks the air out of my lungs. It’s terrifying and overwhelming, but it ruins me in the best possible way.

I gasp into his mouth, and he takes full advantage. His tongue slides against mine, hot and demanding, as if he’s been waiting for this. His kiss isn’t gentle; it’s chaotic and possessive. It feels like a punishment or a claim. My fingers grab at his hoodie, desperate for something solid while the rest of me spirals. His hand drops to my waist, moves lower, flattening over my hip as he slides it up under my shirt.

I flinch. “Caden.”

He pulls back just enough to look at me. His eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen, full of desperation.

“I told you,” he growls, his voice rough. “I meant what I said in the closet.”

His breath fans my lips, and I can’t stop the full-body shiver that follows.

“I’m not some toy you can just play with and bully,” I whisper.

“I know,” he growls. “You’re not just some toy, Lia. You’re worse.” He slams his hand against the wall, causing me to jump. “I f*****g want you, and I shouldn’t.”

His hand wraps around the back of my neck, pulling me into him again. He kisses me, rougher this time. A groan rumbles in his chest, the sound vibrating through my body. It triggers something dangerous inside me, some sick and twisted part that wants this.

That wants him.

His other hand grips my thigh, his fingers wrapped so tightly that I am sure it will leave a bruise. He lifts me without warning, forcing my leg around his hip. The sudden shift drags me against him, pressing us together until there’s no space left. I can feel every inch of him pressing into me now. My back slams against the door and knocks the air from my lungs, but I don't care. I kiss him back, harder than before. My nails dig into his shoulders, and soft moans slip from my mouth into his.

What am I doing?

He is the only one who has ever looked at me this way, as if I am the only thing he sees in this moment. My eyes fly open when he breaks the kiss. He is breathing hard, and his forehead is pressed tightly against mine.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” he mutters.

My eyes flick back and forth. “Why did you say it at all?” I rush out.

His jaw tightens. “I wasn’t thinking,” he says, looking away.

I bite my bottom lip, hard. “You weren’t thinking?”

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” he says, his voice quieter now.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” I whisper.

His eyes flash. “You don’t understand.”

“Explain it to me.”

His mouth hovers over mine again. “I can’t… not yet.”

He leans in, brushing his nose along my jaw like he needs every inch of me mapped and memorized. His body settles fully against mine, pinning me to the wall. I feel the weight of him again, pressing with a need that borders on desperate. My breath shudders.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers, his lips resting against my cheek.

I should tell him to stop. God, I know I should, but I don't.

His hand slides beneath my shirt again, his palm settling just below my ribs. His mouth trails a path down my neck, and his teeth graze my skin, sending shivers throughout my body.

I tilt my head back and gasp.

“Caden…”

He pulls back, but only enough to see my face. His hand stays where it is, his thumb stroking slow, possessive circles against my side.

“Look at me,” he says, his voice laced with a dangerous tone. “You’re going to listen to me.”

I blink up at him, my heart racing. His hand is still on my skin, and his weight is still caging me in. Every nerve in my body is firing at once, overstimulated. My fingers are still fisted in the front of his hoodie like I need something to hold on to, but I don’t even remember grabbing it.

"Why?" I ask, shrugging. "What do you want from me, Caden?"

He stares at me, his eyes dark and unreadable.

"I want to help you," he says finally.

I blink. The words don’t make sense.

"What?"

He steps back just enough to let me breathe, but not enough for me to move. "With the play. You need help, and I know what I’m doing. I was in drama for years before I quit sophomore year."

I laugh, but it comes out broken, almost hysterical. “You break into my room, kiss me like you’re trying to punish me, and now you want to rehearse lines? As if nothing happened? You can’t be serious.” I shake my head, utterly confused and, honestly, slightly amused.

His expression doesn’t change. “Dead f*****g serious.”

I shake my head, trying to process what he's saying. “You’re insane. You’re completely insane.”

“Maybe,” he says, his eyes locked on mine. “I know what I saw in rehearsal. You’re good, Lia. You’re just not ready, and I can help you.”

I try to step away, but he doesn’t move. My back stays pinned against the door.

“Why would I ever trust you?” I whisper, my eyes dropping to the floor.

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he lifts his hand, brushing his fingers down the side of my face like I’m fragile.

“I want to make up for what I did and help you.”

I freeze.

“You tripped me,” I say quietly. “You stuck your foot out, tripped me, and laughed.”

His hand falls. “I didn’t mean to.”

I flinch. “You know what, Caden?”

He doesn’t answer, he just inhales sharply and looks away. He’s so full of it. This is some sick power play and I’m the freaking pawn.

“You want to help?” I ask, my voice shaking. “Fine, but you don’t get to touch me… ever again.”

His jaw tightens, nostrils flaring, but much to my surprise he gives a stiff nod. “Alright.”

I blink slowly, shocked that he agreed.

“One rule, and it’s non-negotiable,” he adds.

I should’ve known there’d be one.

“You don’t tell anyone. Not Jenna or Sutton. No one.”

My eyes narrow on him. “Why not?” I ask, tilting my head.

“I said so. That’s why, Lia.”

Every alarm is screaming inside me not to trust him, and I don’t like it. The way he’s looking at me though… there’s desperation in his eyes, and it’s making it hard to think straight.

Damn him. He’s a walking red flag… or three. What the hell am I thinking? Why am I even considering this?

He leans in one more time, just enough that I can feel his breath on my lips. "So? Do we have a deal?"

My hands are shaking, but I force myself to meet his eyes.

"Fine," I whisper.

The word is barely out before he smiles. Not a smirk, not a sneer, but an actual smile.

"Good," he murmurs.

He reaches behind me and opens the door. As he steps out, he glances back over his shoulder.

"I’ll text you the details tomorrow, Lia. Don’t keep me waiting."

My eyes narrow on him as he walks into the hallway. “How do you have my number?” I shout from my bedroom.

He doesn’t answer me. I hear the front door close, and just like that, he’s gone. I’m standing here, heart pounding, completely confused and wondering what in the hell I’ve just agreed to.