The Trust Thief

The words blur in front of me, all the letters running together until all that’s left is gibberish.

I blink several times but when it doesn’t bring the textbook into focus, I reach up and scrub my eyes with the flat of my hands—which also doesn’t help. I’ve been studying for my Strategic Management for the past hour, but I can’t remember anything I’ve read for at least half of that. this story belongs to Mackenzie Madden. If you’re reading this anywhere but on Inkitt, it’s been stolen.

Breathing out a low curse, I sit back, rubbing at the low ache that’s taken up residence at the base of my skull—a reminder of how long I’ve been sitting in the same hunched over position.

“I’m done,” I mutter. “I can’t do this anymore.”

There’s a shuffle behind me, a thud, and then a hand pushes mine away, strong fingers firmly massaging my neck.

“So don’t,” Caleb says succinctly. “Take a break. We’ll order a pizza and watch a movie.” He leans down, lips brushing the shell of my ear and making me shiver when he whispers, “Or put a movie and not watch it.”

Temptation beats at me, but I hesitate. “What if we went out?” I suggest quietly. “Go for a walk, get some fresh air. Or we could go get a beer at the Billboard.”

His fingers tighten against my neck, before dropping away. I turn around in my computer chair just in time to catch him stepping back, sliding his hands into the pockets of his sweats. His dark hair is tousled and my palms tingle, remembering how I tangled my hands in the strands just a couple of hours ago. His mouth is pressed into a harsh line, his thick brows shadowing midnight-blue eyes.

“Sasha…” he trails off, his deep voice filled with warning.

“I know, I know,” I rush out, fully aware of what he’s going to say. “I’m not saying we need to announce the fact we’re dating, but Caleb…”

His jaw tightens, his eyes slipping away from mine, and my heart drops into my stomach, dread scuttling along my skin like a thousand insects.

“Right,” I murmur, shoulders slumping. “People wouldn’t believe we would ever be friends, I guess.”

I wasn’t born on the ‘wrong side of the tracks’ or anything, but we might as well have been born on different planets. Caleb never had to worry about where his next meal came from. He never had to spend hours—days—alone because his only parent was working three jobs just to keep a roof over his head.

He is from a wealthy family—the kind that always had money, and knew exactly how to keep it that way. Now, his father is a renowned judge and, while Caleb isn’t big on sharing, I knew enough to know that it was expected that he would follow in his father’s footsteps.

There was nothing about us that matched. It was obvious from the first moment we met, but there was something about him that pulled me in, as impossible to deny as gravity.

It was why I said yes when he asked for my number, even if I knew better.

“Come on, Sasha,” he says, tone aggravated. “I told you, we can go public once I graduate. It’s only six months away.”

My brain is screaming at me to shut up, but the words fall out of my mouth anyway. “What happens if we go public now? Just tell me. What’s the worst case scenario?”

The lines around his mouth deepen, his expression tired, and guilt surges hard and fast. “We don’t last if we go public,” he murmurs vaguely. “I need you to trust that.”

It’s the only answer he ever gives me, and I close my eyes with a sigh. “I don’t want to be your dirty secret.”

There’s a taut moment and then he’s dropping to his knees in front of me. His hands run over the bare skin of my legs, teasing the hem of the cotton sleep shorts I dragged on after he finished fucking my brains out earlier.

“You’re not,” he says, dragging the pads of his fingers over the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. “Just give me a little time, okay? I promise, everything’s going to work out.”

I look away from the sincerity in his eyes. It’s not that I don’t believe him. I believe that hebelieves every word he’s saying, but nothing about this feels right, and I’ve always been one to trust my gut instinct—even if I end up ignoring the warning and regretting it.

“Please, Sasha.” He leans down, pressing a kiss just above my knee. I feel the warm swipe of his tongue, goose bumps pimpling my skin. “My father is a piece of work,” he continues. “I’m just not ready to put you in the line of fire.”

“I don’t know—”

“Six months,” Caleb cuts me off. “I’ve never felt about anybody the way I feel about you, so I just need you to give me that six months. Okay?”

I tilt toward him, unable to resist the pull but hating myself a little for it. I never wanted to be this girl, the one that ignores every red flag because of love.

I spent years watching my mother fall apart after my father’s death left her heartbroken and just plain broke. He was a good man who made a massive mistake that left us penniless when he was killed by a drunk driver, so the idea of any kind of relationship was abhorrent to me.

I just hadn’t accounted for Caleb’s persuasive skills.

He’s watching me expectantly, a muscle jumping underneath the dark scruff covering his jaw.

“Six months.” It’s a reluctant whisper, dragged out of me.

Caleb’s mouth curls into a grin, his eyes swimming with relief as his shoulders loosen. His hand slips under my shorts, sliding around to grip my ass. The other hand hooks around my neck, gripping me tightly and pulling me toward him.

“Thank you, baby,” he whispers. The smell of peppermint fills my nose, mingling with his deodorant, and then his lips are brushing against mine. Soft at first, light and teasing, and then harder, his tongue flicking out against the seam of my mouth.

I part for him and he doesn’t waste the opportunity, deepening the kiss, his tongue thrusting into my mouth, leaving no part of me untouched. He groans, the sound rumbling up from his chest as he angles his head to the side, nose brushing against mine.

I’m dizzy for him.

The smell of him.

The taste of him.

The feel of his shoulders under my hands, his muscles bunching as his fingers dig into the crease where my ass and thigh meet.

Just Caleb.

He makes me fucking crazy, enough that I’d agree to just about anything to keep him in my life, and mine.

“Caleb,” I moan against his mouth, and he swallows the sound down. His hand drops from my neck, down to the loose collar of my shirt—one of his that I stole—dipping inside to find my bare breast, cupping me, thumb strumming my nipple.

A low heat coils through my body, making my breath hitch in my throat as it settles low in my pelvis. His fingers find the hem of my panties, following them along my leg until his knuckles are brushing against my core, startling a gasp from me as I pull away.

“Need more,” he mutters, pulling away to grip the waistband of my shorts, ready to yank them down.

Before he can, a loud noise rumbles through the room, making us both freeze. My cheeks flame with color as Caleb slowly looks up, locking his amused eyes with mine.

“Was that your…stomach?”

I scowl, slouching back, the moment officially ruined. “You mentioned pizza,” I say accusingly. “So now I want pizza.”

“I’ll feed you, and then you gotta finish your paper.” Caleb sits back on his haunches, right as his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, frowning down at the screen. “Shit. It’s my dad.” He glances up at me, his eyes apologetic. “I’ll take this and then order our food, okay?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer before he’s standing up, whirling my chair back around to face my desk. “While you wait, you finish this page. You’ll feel better about this paper if you do.”

I know he’s right. The professor of this class is a killer, and he’s going to tear this paper apart—no matter how much time I spend on it.

“Okay,” I murmur, but Caleb’s already headed for the door, his phone against his ear.

“Dad?”

I turn to watch as he leaves, his voice lost as he shuts the door firmly behind him. I slouch, my head tipped back as I stare up at the ceiling of my single dorm. What the hell am I doing?

Everything was good the first couple of months, but with each month that’s passed since, more and more doubts have been crowding into my head, telling me that nothing good came from secrets. Caleb is so firm on not wanting anyone to know that he had insisted that we couldn’t tell anyone—including my best friend.

There’s a part of me that still hopes, because six months isn’t that long in the scheme of things.

…right?

***

“I’ll have a caramel latte, please.” Lily gives the barista a sweet smile, already pulling her wallet out of her bag. “With some caramel drizzle over the top.” She looks at me, one brown eyebrow lifted in question. “What’re you getting?”

I fight back a scowl. “I can get my own drink.”

“I know you can,” she counters, unbothered by my shortness. “And you can get my drink next time. Now, what do you want?”

Not wanting to seem churlish, I order a cappuccino, my fingers twitching when Lily pulls her card out to pay. We move to the other end of the counter to wait for our drinks, and she glances at me, blue eyes bright with curiosity.

“I feel like I never see you at the moment,” she says conversationally, pushing a strand of light brown hair behind her ear. “I didn’t realize your semester load was that heavy.”

My mouth goes dry, guilt a bitter coating on my tongue. Lily and I have been friends since middle school and while I’ve fibbed a few times—about things like forgetting to pack a lunch or whether my mom was going to be home that night—I’ve never outright lied to her.

Now it feels like whenever we spend time together, I’m walking a minefield, each lie bringing me closer to blowing up the only relationship that truly matters to me outside of my mother. And Caleb.

“I’ve been keeping my head down,” I say quietly, self-recrimination filling me with each word. “Mom’s been stressed about my tuition. She doesn’t say anything, but I know that even with two jobs, she’s struggling. I was thinking that it’s time I chipped in.”

Her mouth pulls down unhappily. “I wish you’d let me help.”

I immediately shake my head, smiling in thanks as the barista passes over our drinks. We take them outside with us, heading toward the campus library. “You know why I won’t do that.”

“I know,” Lily grouses, scuffing her sneaker against the ground. “Doesn’t mean I like it. What’s the point in being friends when you won’t let me help you.”

“I don’t want our friendship to be transactional,” I argue, the conversation a familiar one we’ve had more than a few times. “As soon as we let money enter into the equation, things will change between us, even if you don’t think so.”

“After everything we’ve been through together, I’m pretty sure we can handle that.”

“Lily, please,” I murmur. “I love you to pieces, but I don’t want to keep having this conversation. I can stand on my own two feet, and I never want you to question why we’re friends.”

“I wouldn’t—” I shoot her a look and she shuts her mouth with a clack of teeth. After a moment, she sighs. “Will you just promise you’ll come to me if it ever gets really bad?”

I shift my coffee into one hand, tucking my other arm around hers. “I promise,” I tell her. “You will find out before I fall into a deep dark hole with no ladder.”

“You’re not funny,” she mumbles.

I scoff loudly. “I’m hilarious, thank you very much.” We reach the library stairs, ascending them together. “Now I need to tell me that I’m pretty, smart, and amazing. It’s only through the power of prise that I’ll be able to get this paper down before Professor Lichtman fails me.”

“You’re pretty, smart, and annoying,” Lily intones, but she can’t quite hide her twitching lips, the smile only growing when I glower at her.

“I cannot repeat this semester,” I tell her, the stress leaking through each word. “If I have to spend any more time with Lichtman, I’m likely to drop out completely.” The idea honestly has some merit. “I bet I could get a job as a stripper. All you have to do is pop some pasties on and shake your ta-tas.”

“Shake your ta-tas,” she echoes, her voice a little too loud as we step into the hushed interior of the library. The elderly librarian is standing at her desk, her eyes alarmingly wide behind the frames of her glasses as she stares in our direction. Lily blushes a furious red and I cackle, the librarian’s shocked expression morphing into a scowl of disapproval.

“Lower your voices,” she reprimands in a harsh whisper. “This is a library.”

“Sorry,” Lily squeaks, scuttling past the desk, hiding behind her coffee cup. I bite my lips to suck in my laughter, feeling the librarian’s eyes burning into me as we head straight for the second floor. There are tables down here, but it’s always quieter upstairs, meaning we’ll be able to study without the kind of interruption that we just caused.

“Oh my god,” Lily hisses as we find a free table, pulling her books out for our impromptu buddy-study session. “I don’t think I can ever show my face here again.”

I grin at her, settling my bag on the chair beside me. “You made her day,” I say confidently. “She’s going to go out with all her librarian friends later, talking about the girl who wanted to shake her ta-tas in a library.”

“Librarians don’t just hang out with librarians.”

“Where’s your evidence?” I ask in an arch tone, before pausing, brows knitting. “You’re probably right, though. She probably just hands out with her cats.”

Lily rolls her eyes. “You’re the worst. I don’t know why we’re friends.”

“Yes, you do,” I sing out. “I’m the most awesome person in your life, and you know it.”

As long as she never finds out just how long I’ve been lying to her. The thought is a sobering one, but Lily doesn’t notice, already engrossed in the textbook she’s pulled out, her expression drawn in concentration as she stares down at the page.

On the other hand, I don’t dive in straight away, taking my time scanning the library around us. There’s not many people lingering on the second floor, so I turn and look over the banister next to our table, giving me a clear view on the first floor and the front desk—just as he walks through the front door. this story belongs to Mackenzie Madden. If you’re reading this anywhere but on Inkitt, it’s been stolen.

I inhale sharply, glancing at Lily out of the corner of my eye, but she’s muttering to herself as she reads, completely in her own world. Looking back downstairs, I watch as Caleb saunters over to one of the tables on the ground floor, two of his friends on either side of him.

My heart jumps into my throat as I run my eyes over the dark henley he’s wearing, the material clinging to his muscular frame. He sits down, slouching back in his chair with a careless grin, and I desperately want him to look up, to acknowledge me, to make me think that this thing between us isn’t as one-sided as it’s beginning to feel.

I don’t know if he can feel my eyes on him, but he looks up, dark blue eyes clashing with mine. His mouth parts on a silent exhale, but in the next breath, the guy sitting at his side lets out a braying laugh. It’s a sound that echoes loudly throughout the library, pulling Caleb’s attention away.

I wait for him to look back at me, to stop acting like I’m a stranger and not someone who he’s seen naked—many, many times. But he never does, his face remaining turned away from me until he leaves an hour later, refusing to acknowledge my existence at all.