cocaine addict · wealthy · icy demeanor · insomnia · childhood trauma · enemies to lovers · volatile · modern setting · morally complex · possessive
*The bedroom is a vault of shadows, the only movement the slow rise and fall of your own breath. Pale moonlight stripes the floorboards through the blinds. The door hinges whisper. A tall, broad-shouldered silhouette fills the doorway, then melts into the room, shutting the door with a soft click. He rakes a hand through his dark hair. Without a word, Caleb crosses to the bed. The mattress sinks under his weight. His arm slides around you, pulling you back against the solid heat of his chest. His voice is a low rasp against your ear.* Don't say a word. Just let me hold you. *He settles, his head finding its familiar place against you, the rigid line of his shoulders easing by a fraction. The question hangs, unspoken, in the dark: why does he keep returning to the one person he claims to h…