2. Callum
2
CALLUM
“ D amn, bro. Didn’t your girl get in town last night? What was that out there?” Roe says, punching my shoulder when we get in the locker room.
“Yeah, Balfour, I thought a good fuck would get your head back in the game,” Austin throws in his two cents, only further pissing me off. It would appear they’re just giving me flack, but everyone knows I’m not having my best season. I’m not making the plays I usually do. I’ve been in a funk I haven’t been able to shake, so their comments are more two-fold than normal. They’re a razz as much as they are a dig.
“Austin, give it a rest. You know it’s not like that with this one,” Roe says as he takes his gear off.
Austin opens his locker. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? What are you doing if you’re not getting your dick wet? There’s no point in having a girlfriend if you’re not at least getting that.”
Unable to control myself, I fly across the room and pin him up against the lockers. “Don’t talk about my girl like that. She’s more than a quick fuck. If you can’t show her respect, then I better not catch her name coming out of your mouth.”
He shoves at my chest, but I don’t move.
“Are we clear?”
His face is red; he’s ready to swing at me, and right now, I’d be okay with letting him. Last night didn’t go as planned, and I haven’t been able to think about anything other than Eloise.
“Get off me, Balfour.”
I press harder. “That’s not an answer.”
“Whatever, bro. Since no one else is willing to say it, I will. You’re the reason our season has sucked, and it’s about to get worse.”
“Are you insinuating my girl is a problem?” I spit.
“No.” He pushes out of my hold. “Your shit performance is the problem. The team was already paying in losses, but now you’ll be taking away from us off the ice, too.”
“Leave it alone, Austin,” Roe says. “You can’t put that on him. That came from the top down, and no one has details.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Austin tosses his helmet into his locker hard. “This is what I’m talking about. The team captain can’t even find time to read his email now,” he grinds out before heading to the showers.
Roe shakes his head as he watches him storm off. “Don’t worry about him, man. We all go through droughts. His opinions are his. He doesn’t speak for everyone.”
I walk back to my locker and pound on the door. “Maybe not, but he’s entitled to his opinion, and he’s not wrong.”
I run my hands through my hair and drop my head, and Roe squeezes my shoulder.
“My momma always told me there’s no I in team, bro.”
I don’t respond. There’s nothing more to say. What’s messed up is this morning, I felt like I was on top of the world. Before I came to practice, I stopped by Eloise’s condo. I left her fresh-cut lilies, a strawberry croissant, and a bottle of water with a tiny sack of hangover essentials attached around the neck containing more Motrin and two packets of electrolyte powders. I saw the bottle of wine she put down last night. I know she’s not a big drinker, and judging by how sound she was sleeping this morning, I don’t doubt she had a rough night. She looked so peaceful asleep in her bed, I would have been perfectly content sitting in the chair beside the window, watching her for hours, but I had to get to practice. Skating around the cold rink is where the warmth I felt leaving her asleep was lost.
The longer I skated, the more discontent settled and turned into annoyance. In the past, I’ve been able to turn those feelings into anger that fueled my aggression on the ice, but what I feel now isn’t your typical anger. I’m not mad at Eloise. I’m hurt. However, it’s my fault. It was my flawed, misguided, borderline psychotic idea that brought her here. Even though it accomplished what I had set out to do: get my shot. I feel like she wasn’t completely transparent with her reasons for staying in a separate condo. She may not be here for me at all. There are countless other reasons she could be here. My head is a mess as I run through all the possibilities, all the ways this might be nothing more than a show to say she tried, only to let me down easy. I anxiously bounce my leg and recall the day that brought her to Toronto. The day I asked her to choose me.
“Your son is inside. Don’t make a scene,” Eloise’s brother, Iverson, said when I crashed their weekend glamping trip. Showing up unannounced, I stood on the cabin’s front porch and leaned against the banister.
“I don’t plan on it, but he’s my son and I have a right to see him.”
It had been almost two months since Adler’s four-wheeling accident, and Eloise hadn’t been returning my calls. The summers are my off-season. It’s when I get to spend uninterrupted time with my son and she was holding him hostage because he got hurt on my watch.
“Look, Callum, she’s my sister. I support whatever choice she makes, but we both know why she’s staying away. Eloise doesn’t think you’re a bad dad, but she also blames herself for that accident. If the two of you were together, Adler would have had two parents at home that day. He wouldn’t have gotten on the four-wheeler while you were in the shower and landed himself in the hospital. If she had you by her side ? —”
“I know, Iverson!” I frustratedly ran my hands through my hair. “She’s my whole world. Everything I’ve ever wanted is inside that cabin.”
“Then why is she engaged to someone else?”
Because of me. I clenched my jaw to hold my tongue. I foolishly paid someone to be her fake boyfriend and propose to her. In my head, I saw a whirlwind, fast relationship playing out to my advantage. I thought putting someone in her life who refused to be pushed aside and played the dutiful Hallmark boyfriend card would show her stubborn heart what she wants: a happy ever after complete with white picket fences, family dinners, and a husband—a husband like me. Stupidly, I thought another guy proposing to her would make her realize she was wasting her time on dreams that didn’t include me. How could she not want a future with the man who had all her firsts, the man who gave her our son? The fake engagement was my last-ditch effort to get her to see what I knew: we were endgame. Hindsight’s a bitch, and she’s stubborn as hell.
“I’m working on it, Iverson. You know you can’t make your sister do anything she doesn’t want to do.”
The screen door pushed open, and her piercing blue gaze landed on mine. “What exactly are you trying to make me do?”
“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Iverson said as he excused himself.
“Choose me.”
“Excuse me.” Her brow furrowed in confusion, and when she crossed her arms, the sight of the engagement ring on her left hand made my stomach churn. It was the worst idea I’d ever had. “Cal, I think it’s a little late for that.”
“No, it could never be too late when I’m the only ending you were ever meant to have.”
“Callum…” She dropped her head dejectedly.
“Hear me out.” I took a step toward her. “You pushed me away and I gave you space. I let you lead. I stayed away because I thought that’s what you wanted. But I don’t think that’s true anymore. I don’t believe it was ever really true.” Her eyes narrowed, and by the way her gaze flicked away from mine, I knew I had struck a chord. One that said I was right. “I wouldn’t be here now shooting my shot if I had seen an ounce of happiness in your eyes. I want you to be happy. You were happy once. You were happy with me.”
The subtle shake of her head as she rolled her lips to hide their quiver only further confirmed that I wasn’t romanticizing some alternate ending that was mine alone. She wanted it, too. The feelings were mutual.
“It’s not that simple.” Her eyes were full of regret that I refused to accept. “I’m engaged to someone else.”
“Engaged!” I fumed, underscoring the word. “Not married. Nothing is set in stone.” I paused, reining in a temper I had no right to have, considering my half-cocked idea landed the ring on her finger. “Do me a favor, Eloise. I want you to think about your life in the next five, ten, thirty years. If you dream of coming home to him, his arms, his kisses, and if it’s his eyes you wish to see reflected in the children you will have, then I will walk away. I’ll leave right now.”
Her glassy eyes strayed away from mine. “I can’t,” she whispered breathlessly.
“What’s stopping you?” I waited for an answer she didn’t give before laying my heart out there. I had to. I wouldn’t leave with regrets, which meant telling her exactly what I wanted. “Eloise, I don’t want to live without you. I set you free, blondie. I let you go, but I’m done hurting. I’m done living without my other half. I don’t want a future that doesn’t include you. When I think about the things I want in my life, they begin and end the same. It’s you, or it’s no one.”
She looked down at her hand and spun the ring on her finger. I was seconds away from telling her it was all a lie. That ring was my doing, and it would soon come to an end, but I couldn’t because if she wanted it, I’d let it be. I already knew the guy I hired to play the role was getting attached.
“What do you want me to say?” Her voice was unsteady.
“Say what you want. What does Eloise Grey want?”
Her blue eyes turned gray as she turned to me, and a stray tear rolled down her cheek. “God, you’re killing me. Don’t cry,” I said, swiping the tear from her face and pulling her into me.
She let me hold her for all of five seconds before her arms pushed at my chest. “Please…” She fisted the fabric of my shirt in her hands before adding, “I can’t do this right now,” and letting me go.
My heart felt like it was dying inside my chest, hearing another rejection until I heard something else because that’s the thing. For six years, her words told me something her eyes didn’t. So instead, I said, “I can get in that truck by myself, or I can drive the girl who’s going to consider me, a ride home.”
She didn’t give me her eyes, but it didn’t matter because she didn’t give me a no either. “We made pancakes, and I need to grab our bags. Then you can drive us home.”
“She chose me,” I growl as I get to my feet and slam the locker beside me closed. So why do I feel like the runner-up, something she’s settling for instead of what she wants? I tug at my hair. I’m missing something when it comes to Eloise. I know I still affect her. I’ve always affected her. It’s been true even when she didn’t want it to be. I can see it in the way she looks at me. I feel it in the way her body trembles beneath my touch when she allows it, and last night, her admissions about the chemistry we once shared confirmed she knows we were good together. So why can’t we fall in step and pick up where we left off? If she allowed it, I’d hold and kiss her like we never missed a day. I’ve never understood what’s kept her away.
The walls she erected went up long before I pulled the incident with her fake fiancé this past summer. She wasn’t happy with me about that, but she wasn’t torn up about it either and I know why, because he was never the guy. Eloise said yes to the dreams she wanted; it was the man attached to those dreams she forgot to consider. He wasn’t her guy because I am. I let my nails drag over my scalp again before standing with renewed determination. I don’t want to keep looking back. Ever since she left me, I’ve been trying to prove something. I’ve wanted to show her I’m still what she wants, to prove I’m the man worthy of being by her side, but if she’s determined to lose our present to our past, then it’s time I reference it. I’ll face the demons I’ve tried to outrun if it means I win her heart.
“ Y ou’re here,” I say as I open the door to my condo and find Eloise standing in front of the windows.
“I’m sorry. I can go…” She blinks rapidly as though I’ve pulled her from deep thoughts before looking around for her purse.
“No.” I release the breath I’d been holding, too scared to let it go out of fear she might disappear. “I don’t want you to go. I didn’t expect you to be here since you have your own place. That is all.”
She looks down and twists her fingers. “That was mainly for sleeping.”
Right, the bed chem comment she made last night. The one I’ve been trying to pretend never happened. I wanted to snap back as soon as the comment left her lips. I wanted to pull her into me and say damn right. She’s the only woman I’ve ever been with who has so wholly consumed me that the world around me slipped away, and all that was left was us and the magic of the moments where she was mine and I was hers. But I didn’t. The last thing I need her to believe is all I want is sex. I refuse to let anything come between us. This is our time, and with Eloise, that means winning her stubborn heart.
“This door is always open for you. I want you here.” This is the exact scene I want to come home to every day for the rest of my life, but I don’t say that. Not yet. “Have you eaten?”
“Not since I woke up. Thanks for the flowers and hangover kit, by the way. Drinking a bottle of wine alone probably wasn’t my best move.” She rolls her lips and runs her hands down the sides of her tight jeans. “However, I don’t remember giving you the code to my place.”
I bite my lip to contain my smile. “You didn’t have to. Jenkins did.”
“Jenkins?” She furrows her brow.
“Yes, the doorman.” I toss my keys on the entry table. “I told him I had a surprise for my girl.”
“Of course you did. I might need to talk with him about security measures at this place if he’s so easily handing out my door code to potential suitors.”
My brows rise. “Potential suitors? Is that what I am to you?”
She slips her hands into her pockets. “I suppose I could have chosen another title.”
I run my thumb over my lip. The hurt I felt earlier slowly creeps back in. “Tell me, Eloise. Those other titles you could have chosen… were any of them your man?”
Her eyelids flutter with unspoken regret before she drops her gaze.
“Why are you even here?” I ask, my tone a little harsher than intended as I can’t temper my emotions.
She doesn’t speak, so I drop my duffel bag, and she startles. I grind my teeth. She’s not the woman I remember. That woman was confident and sure; right now, I don’t know who she is. I can’t get a read on her. Part of me wants to tell her to leave, but I don’t want to give her words I’ll regret, so instead, I head toward my room. After practice, I opted not to shower with the team. I was too anxious to stay any longer than necessary.
I’ve just reached the edge of the living area when she says, “Maybe I didn’t say it or even think it, but I wouldn’t be here if that title wasn’t the one I want.”
I pause to see if she’ll say more while hating how easily her words dictate my mood. All it took was her saying she wanted me to make my heart beat out of rhythm.
“I’m scared, Callum.”
Fuck. I hate that, but I don’t think she’s scared of me. I’ve never given her a reason to be. If anything, her fear is rooted in the same place as mine. It’s the fear that if we don’t figure this out now, maybe we never will. The thought of life without her is damn near crippling. She’s been the only girl I ever wanted for longer than she knows. I don’t want a future that doesn’t include her.
“I’m going to shower and change,” I throw over my shoulder, knowing I can’t bear to see any ounce of hurt that I may have caused etched on her pretty face. “If you’re still up for it, I’d like to take you somewhere.”
I hear her pull in a shaky breath. “I’d like that.”
I take one step and grip the wall. I wasn’t going to say it. One of us should embody strength and hope for our future, but being vulnerable feels right, so I say, “And, blondie, you scare the hell out of me. You always have.”
I don’t wait for a reply. I don’t need one. I only needed her to hear my truth.
“ H ey.” Eloise’s hand tightens around my bicep as we walk down the street, and I swear I fall a little harder. “Can we stop in here really quick?”
“I’ll follow you anywhere, blondie.”
She gives me a shy smile but pulls my arm all the same, and I follow her inside Brushstroke. Releasing my arm, she rubs her hands together, blowing on her fingers to warm them up.
“That’s not how you do it,” I say, taking her hand. “Your hand belongs in mine. I promise I’ll keep it warm.”
She pinches her bright red lips together but doesn’t pull away. Instead, she laces her fingers through mine and pulls me through the store. Her free hand runs over the soft tips of a few brushes.
“When was the last time you painted something?”
“It’s been a while,” she admits with a sigh as she continues her perusal.
“Why is that? The way I remember it, painting brought you joy.”
“It did… The last few months have been a lot. Adler had his accident?—”
“Please tell me you’re not still holding that against me. Eloise, he’s my son. I’d never put him in danger.”
She shakes her head. “That day was hard for me for many reasons, Callum.” Her piercing blue eyes find mine. “I’ve never not trusted you with our son.”
“Are you sure about that?”
We don’t have any custody agreements. I’d never take him from her, and my hockey schedule puts me on the road for more than half the year. She’s never kept him from me until that accident.
“At the risk of sounding like a terrible mom, can we not talk about our son unless necessary?” She releases my hand and mumbles, “God, I can’t believe I just said that.”
My eyes widen. I can’t believe she’d, for one second, think I could possibly see her as anything other than the best mom a kid could have. Our son is lucky to have her. The only reason he isn’t here with us now is because her father and brother are watching him while we try to see if there’s a shot at us. “Eloise?—”
She holds up her hand. “No, I need you to hear me out. Maybe you’ll understand, and maybe you won’t, but at least you’ll know where I stand. I don’t want to talk about our son while I’m here because I didn’t come here for him, nor am I here because of him.”
God, I needed to hear those words. I’ve been thinking about them since she agreed to come here. It didn’t help that over the past two months, she had one excuse after the next to delay her arrival. A big part of me believed she came for him. Adler wants to see us all under the same roof as one big happy family.
Her eyes search mine, and she adds, “I want to see if there’s an us without him. He can’t be the glue.”
I know what she’s saying. We can’t be together for him. Staying for the wrong reasons will only end in hurt, and it’s not just our hearts that will feel the pain. But her doubt doesn’t sway me. I wouldn’t still be here waiting for her to see what I’ve known all along if I were. No one else has ever worked and never will because the right person already walked into her life. “I’d love to remind you how good we used to be.” I offer her my elbow to escort her out of the store. “Ready to eat?”
“I’m famished. Next time you leave me breakfast, make it a sandwich.”
“ I should have known better than to allow you to pick the table.”
“What’s wrong with this table?” I ask as I remove my coat.
“It’s a circular booth in the back of the restaurant.”
“I’m aware.”
“Cal, I want to take things slow. I kind of thought I made that clear.”
Tongue in cheek, I try to bite back my smile when I realize where the direction of her thoughts has gone.
“I’m serious.” She swats my chest. “Why is that funny?”
“Because I didn’t choose this booth to try to sneak my hand down your pants. I chose it so as not to draw attention to myself. People know me here, blondie.” I adjust the bill on my baseball cap, pulling it over my eyes a little more.
“Right,” she emphasizes the T. “That was presumptuous of me. I don’t know this side of your world.”
I shrug. “It’s not too terrible. I wear a helmet and the picture the media shows on the TV is from last season, but I’d rather not draw any attention to myself when I’m trying to give it to someone else.”
“What can I get you guys to drink?” The waiter interrupts before quickly realizing who I am. “Oh, hey, Cal. The regular?”
“Yes, I’ll have my regular and an order of poutine as an appetizer and whatever the lady wants.”
“I’ll have a glass of Pinot, please. The brand doesn’t matter.” She holds her finger up. “Well, maybe not the cheapest.”
The waiter smiles. “Got it.”
He walks away, and she must take my gaze for something it’s not because she says, “What? I don’t need another headache. Cheap wines are usually good for that.”
“I want you to order whatever you want. If that’s the most expensive bottle in the house, so be it.”
She exaggerates her eye roll with a smile before saying, “I thought you were trying to lie low coming here and sitting in the back, yet the waiter knows you.”
“I am a bachelor, Eloise. This place has good food, and it’s only two blocks away. I tip well and take care of the staff with tickets since I’m a frequent visitor.”
“Pinot for the lady.” The waiter returns, sliding Eloise’s wine across the table before adding, “And a Labatt Blue for Mr. Cal. Can I get the two of you anything else for now?”
Eloise shakes her head. “I haven’t even looked at the menu yet. Can we have a few minutes?”
“No problem, take your time,” he says before scampering toward the bar.
I take a long pull off my beer as I watch Eloise take a small sip of wine. “Is it bad? We can get you another glass.”
“No. It’s fine.” She shakes her head. “I just don’t want to drink too much before I eat.”
I nod, and for once, I’m speechless. I finally have her right where I’ve wanted her for so long, and suddenly, I have no words to say. Yes, Eloise and I talk. We have a child together, but admittedly, this is new-ish territory. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never stopped giving her one-liners, and you better believe I lay on the charm every time I get the chance, but a sit-down one-on-one dinner… This is a first since high school.
For years, she’s kept our interactions limited, quick, and to the point, leaving no room for lingering small talk. Initially, I believed it was because she was upset that I discovered we had a son. When she left me all those years ago, she failed to mention she was pregnant with my child. It was easy to believe that her brief, closed-off encounters were lingering grievances for whatever actions drove her away for good. But as time passed, I noticed her stolen glances. I saw the longing and regret even if she didn’t want me to. The stony facade that was once impenetrable suddenly had cracks, and I’ll be damned if I wasn’t going to be the one to fill them. All these years, I’ve been biding my time, waiting for my moment, and when I couldn’t wait any longer, I forced my hand.
“So where should we start?” she asks as she grabs a menu.
“How about a first date?”
“A first date?” she repeats skeptically.
“Yeah, we haven’t been on a date since high school. We’re both different people now. Why not?”
“Okay… sure,” she says before sipping her wine.
“I’ll start. What do you like to do?” I know what she spends her time doing. I know everything about her, but a few icebreakers to get the conversation flowing are good.
“Me and Ad—” She clears her throat, realizing her slip. “I like to paint.”
Eloise has always enjoyed painting. It’s actually how we officially met; though meeting her was always on my to-do list, it wasn’t on that day, but I love knowing fate’s plans were and are the same as mine. It wasn’t hockey season yet, and I had anywhere to be but home. I’d sign up for anything if it kept me away from my father and his pretentious wife. That afternoon, I was tossing the ball around with a few of the guys while we walked down to our hangout spot, just down the back hill of the football stadium, when I missed the ball, and it flew into the easel she was setting up to paint. To this day, I remember her being so damn mad. She was cursing me out ten ways from Sunday.
I was about to walk off and leave her be because she wasn’t listening to a word of my apologies as I tried to help her pick up the mess I’d inadvertently made until she finally turned her gaze on mine, and I stumbled over the endless depths of her blue eyes. I was hooked, and she was pissed. From that day forward, I made it my mission to be in her space until she gave me the time of day. She did eventually after I volunteered as the live model for her art club. She’s actually a really fucking good painter.
“Have you ever considered selling your paintings?”
Her red-tipped nail circles the rim of her glass. “Yes, but every time I consider it, I feel it will steal the joy the craft brings me. I don’t want painting to become about money or status.”
I get that. Eloise doesn’t need either of those things. She has them both, but you wouldn’t know it. Eloise moved to Copper Falls shortly after Adler was born because she wanted a different life for him than what she had experienced growing up. She wanted him to have a normal life. Growing up with a camera around every corner isn’t easy. When you’re young, you have enough anxiety on your plate trying to figure out who you are without the added stress of trying to fit into a mold society has carved out for you. Eloise didn’t want that for him, nor did I, so we’ve kept him away from the spotlight, so much so that only a few of the guys even know I have a son.
I’m supportive of her choices and can’t say that I disagree with them, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to the day I get to hold him on my shoulders in front of the world. I love him, and I want the world to see the best parts of me, and that’s him and the woman who brought him into this world. The best version of me is the man I am with them. I want what she wants because her dreams are mine, too, even if I’m the only one with the courage to pursue them right now.
“Maybe it comes down to how you look at it. If it were your job, naturally, you would have had more time to do something you enjoy.”
She teeters her head from side to side as she weighs in my words. “That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose.”
“And if you sold a piece, great, and if not, it would just be a bonus because then you get to keep something you enjoyed bringing to life.”
She nods in agreement before taking a drink of her wine and mulling over my suggestion.
“I have an idea. The owner of the Kings hosts a charity auction every year to raise money for Project Hope. What if you painted something for the auction? Then you’re not doing it for the money, so to speak. You’re doing it for a cause.”
The waiter returns with the poutine I ordered and places it on the table. “Are you guys ready to order?”
Her eyes widen when she sees the considerable size of the appetizer in front of us. “I was going to order a burger, but now I think I’ll get the house salad.”
“I’ll take the loaded burger with a side of onion rings,” I say, ordering what I know she would have ordered for herself and hoping she’ll eat mine.
“I’ll put the order in,” he says before disappearing again.
Picking up where we left off, Eloise says, “It’s a good thought, but I don’t have any of my supplies here and?—”
“Let me take care of that, please. It’s my ask, and besides that, I have an idea.”
She takes a gravy-covered fry from the plate. “You have an idea?”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Next question. Do you kiss on the first date?”
She smiles as big as she can, considering she popped the fry into her mouth, but then she says, “No.”
“That’s a lie.” I snort as I take a fry.
“Excuse me,” she mocks offense. “This is only our first date. How would you know?”
“Just a hunch,” I answer before drinking my beer.
She pops another fry into her mouth before reclaiming her glass. “I only kiss if there’s a spark. If there’s no chemistry”—she shrugs—“there’s no point.”
I relax back into the seat with a smile. “So I’ll be getting a kiss tonight. Good.”
“Cal…” she admonishes.
“Blondie.” I smile cheekily. She knows I’m only teasing, though I’m partially serious. It’s why I can’t help but add, “Kissing is a surefire way to see if we have chemistry. What if we go through all this courting and then the kiss sucks? Everyone knows a first kiss can make or break a second date.”
“Nice try. I remember how you kiss just fine. I don’t need a refresher.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one because if that were true, I don’t think we’d be talking.”
Her eyes hold mine, and I can’t tell if she’s contemplating my offer or thinking of her next remark. All I know is I don’t get another, no, and for me, that’s a win. I don’t care how long it takes. She’s going to be mine. She was always meant to be mine.