Page 30 of Trapped With You

Cade took a drag, his cheeks hollowing.

The only thing I could focus on was how handsome he looked with the tall trees and lowering sunset behind him, painting a beautiful canvas that was almost ethereal.

Gazing at him, I realized I was caught in something far greater than mere infatuation. It grew inside of me with the promise ofmore. The pull of that same magnetic force from the alleyway in MacGregor beckoned me. This guy…he had me entangled. The need to know him inside and out, to see how his mind worked, to learn what made himsmile, ruled me ever since we collided.

Based on the way Cade watched me, I was convinced he feltthis too.

This connection was not one-sided.

“Am I your first friend here at St. Victoria?” I asked him.

Cade craned his head in the opposite direction and blew out his smoke, ensuring none of it landed on me. How chivalrous. “You and this guy named Shaun that I met in math class.”

I perked up. “Shaun Jacobsen?” He nodded slowly. “Oh, he’s the best. And funniest. You two are going to get along super well.”

Cade took another drag of his cigarette but not before mumbling, “Do you like him?”

At first, I didn’t get it. Then I saw his half curious, half sullen expression. Was he jealous? And was it bad that I enjoyed it?

“Sure, I like him.” I toyed with Cade, grinning when his shoulders sagged with disappointment. “As a friend. Shaun and I have known each other since our elementary days. We’re platonic.”

Cade’s posture straightened. “Oh. Okay.”

I couldn’t keep the goofy smile off my face. “Now that you and I are friends, we should get to know each other better.”

“What do you want to know, Ella?”

My name, it sounded so good on his lips.

I wanted to hear it, again, and again, and again.

“What’s your favourite colour? Mine is blue.” It was orange actually, but the colour of his eyes was definitely changing my choice.

Cade gazed at me pointedly and murmured, “Mine is brown.”

Like the colour of my eyes. Oh my God. My heart squeezed inside my chest. “That’s a pretty colour.”

“The prettiest.”

Tension ballooned between us.

“Do you have a middle name?” My pulse pounded fast. “Mine is Ximena.”

“Killian,” Cade rasped, French inhaling his smoke and continuing to gaze at me with hooded eyes.

God, he’s so hot.

“Cade Killian Remington.” Tasting his full name on my tongue, I found that I loved its flavour. “I like it.”

“You’ve been asking all the questions. It’s my turn now.”

I gave him the reins. “Ask away.”

“I see you sitting on this bench often during lunchtime. You always seem to be…weaving something. What is it?”

Ah, so he was keeping tabs on me too. “I’m currently knitting socks for my little brother Emilio,” I answered, pleased that he noticed what I was doing. I never saw him in the courtyard taking peeks at me, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he watched me from the shadowed corners. “Myabuelataught me how to crochet and knit when I was little. Over the years, it’s become a hobby to help relieve stress. Whenever I get overwhelmed, I come here to work on my latest project.”

Mypapámade it really clear that when I grew up, our family business was mine. My responsibility. My legacy. But I had an artistic soul and I thrived the most when I was creating something. I spent a big chunk of the summer designing various knit bralettes because I had plans of opening an online store in the upcoming months. A few girls in my cheer team expressed their interest in my creations. While my parents provided me with a monthly allowance and access to their credit cards, I wanted to step on my own two feet and try my hand at a bit of independence. I imagined there was a different sense of satisfaction in receiving money you worked hard to earn.