18. Callum
18
CALLUM
I waited as long as possible for Eloise to return from the bathroom before going after her. I exited out a different door than the one Wells escorted her out to be discreet, but seeing as I’ve stalked endless empty halls and still haven’t stumbled upon the bathroom he showed her to, I’m once again kicking myself for playing by her rules. However, today was different. When I walked through the front door this afternoon, I was hurt after everything that happened this weekend, so playing the card she dealt me felt a bit like payback. If seeing me with Blair pissed her off even a little, I was okay with it because I wanted her to feel a taste of her own medicine. Then, maybe she’d know what it’s like to walk in my shoes. But I could tell from the moment she walked in something was different, and it wasn’t just the accessory on her arm. It was the woman.
When we concocted this plan, we agreed we’d scout enemy territory, but as the lunch carried on, her mission changed. She was on the attack, and fuck if it didn’t piss me off as much as it made me hard. I wanted nothing more than to claim my woman in front of everyone in attendance. Hell, the guys and Coach Beck are already aware this relationship with Blair is all bullshit. Sitting there being forced to hold her hand and put on a show was a different level of torture. Then, to top it off, Eloise unveils a painting I had no idea existed. Finding out the day we met was scarred onto her heart the same way it is mine took every ounce of control I had not to spring out of my chair and scream at the top of my lungs that I’m her guy. That’s me. That’s us.
“Damn it, Lou, think,” I hear her say in a hushed tone, and I instantly pick up my stride, following the sound to the end of the hallway, where I find her pacing outside of the powder room. I don’t need her words to know something has her rattled, but I do need them so that I can help her. So we can be the team we agreed to be going into this.
“Eloise.” I step into the room, and she immediately startles. Understandable given she was clearly lost in thought, but the panic written all over her face and the step back she takes as I approach have my fists clenching. What the hell is that? “We need to talk,” I manage through the fury of emotions coursing through my veins. I’m positive that show out there wasn’t for Blair. It was for me. So what changed between then and now that has her like this? I take another step toward her. “What was that out there?”
She closes her eyes and releases a breath that sounds like relief, and it’s how I know I didn’t ask the right question. Instead, I asked a safe one. “You said I didn’t care.” Her tongue darts out, and she moistens her lips. “I’m never the one chasing you, and I don’t prioritize you. I wanted to show you that’s not true.”
“Yeah, I got that. You’re pretty good at sweeping pronouncements.” I run my hand over the five o’clock shadow that has appeared over the past few days from lack of sleep. I’ll give her all the praise and words worthy of such a show after I find out why the girl from the conservatory is gone, a shell of reticence left in her place. We are alone. I haven’t seen her in two days, and while I may have hung up on her and avoided her calls, the minute my eyes landed on her today, whatever I was mad about faded away. Relationships are work; show me one that is roses every day, and I’ll place my bet on how long before they break up. Sometimes, it takes getting mad and letting things hurt to let it go, but more than that, it tells your person what you’re willing to accept and what’s a hard limit. This weekend, I put my foot down. I’ll do anything for her, but damn it, I need her to stop shutting me out. I need her to let me in. I need to know she wants me here. “Tell me what this is. Why go through all that out there, only to back away from me now?”
“Where did you sleep last night?”
“What?” I question incredulously.
“You heard me. I know it wasn’t your bed. When I got home this afternoon to change and grab one of the dresses out of your closet, my robe was still draped over your bed in the exact spot I left it two days ago.”
“Are you serious?” I snap my head back in shock.
“Answer the question!” she demands as her light blue eyes darken, not with anger but pain.
“I stayed with Roe.” I hold her gaze with hurt of my own. Does she really believe I’d cheat on her?
“And that sounds like a convenient lie. He’d obviously cover for you.”
“Cover me for what? Explain it to me, Eloise, because it sounds like you’re accusing me of cheating right now, and out of the two of us, you have less room to talk.” I angrily run my hands through my hair. “You literally just spent two days in the woods with another man, for crying out loud.” I put my hands on my hips. “And you brought him here today as if the sting from the weekend wasn’t already enough. You had to rub salt in the wound.”
“I brought him for you. I never planned on him staying. He was only supposed to bring the painting, and I’ve already told you Dash and I are just friends.”
“If that’s how you want to play it, so are Roe and me.” I throw my arms wide. “I slept on his damn couch.”
“I didn’t think you were sleeping with Roe.” She releases an exaggerated sigh.
“Then who?” I yell, my frustration getting the better of me. When she rolls her lips and crosses her arms, her eyes searing into mine with an unspoken, ‘You know who,’ I snap. I close the distance and pull her into me.
“Don’t touch me.” She fights against my chest.
“Not happening until you stop this madness and tell me what’s going on.” I wrap my arms around her.
“Let me go.” She struggles harder.
“Not a chance,” I counter, holding her tighter. “You think I was with Blair.” I hate the words. They taste like garbage. Not only because I’d never dream of touching her but more so that Eloise would doubt me after everything. “The only reason I’m with her today is because you asked it of me. I was ready to shut this down at my condo when she showed up with Beck and you know it. I’m doing this for you, so don’t you dare turn it around on me and make it something it’s not.”
Blair must have got to her while I was roaming the halls searching for this damn room. It’s the only thing that makes sense. When Eloise left the conservatory, she said she’d come right back. We were fine. I could see it in her eyes.
“You know this is her game. She got in your head, and now you’re questioning your heart, but I’ve got you. My heart has only ever belonged to you. When yours is weak, let mine be your strength.”
She moves again, but it doesn’t pack as much vigor as before.
“Just calm down. Come back to me, blondie.” I feel her racing heart slow as the tension that riddled her body seconds ago starts to ebb, and I slowly release her, only to bring my hands to her face. “I shouldn’t have hung up the phone, but I was hurt. After the morning we shared, you were all I could think about. I wanted nothing more than to come home to you and get lost with you for hours. This is our time, and I feel like it keeps getting stolen. I didn’t go to sleep that night. There was no way I could be in that house without you, so I went to Roe’s. You’re free to ask him, and if you need more, I can pull the security footage, whatever you need to believe me.”
Her eyes flick between mine as regret washes over her face. “I believe you. I’m just tired of all this.” She shakes her head and grabs my hands, pulling them away from her face. “I let her get in my head, but it couldn’t be helped. Your dad has always hated me. I know that hasn’t changed, and then in her tirade she said ‘he’ not Lucas. For a second, I foolishly believed it was you until I saw it for what it was, another threat delivered, through a messenger instead of himself this time, and then?—”
“Stop!” I hold up my hand as I struggle to regulate the rage threatening to break out of its cage. “Why did you use the word threat and my father’s name in the same sentence?”
Her face pales, and I ball my fists as my heart thuds heavily in my chest at the admission her expression gives away.
“He fucking threatened you?” I growl as my body ignites with a buzz of energy like nothing before. The hate building inside of me is murderous. “Answer me!” I bang my fist on the bookshelf beside me, splitting the shelf, sending the trinkets crashing to the floor and making her jump.
“It doesn’t matter.” Her voice cracks. “I’m not scared of him.”
“That’s not what I asked, Eloise. Answer the question. My father threatened you? When did he threaten you?” I back her to the wall and see her fear, but I know it’s not of me. I’d never lay a finger on her, and she knows it. She’s scared because she slipped up. This is her secret, the one she’s refused to give me. I’ve always known I didn’t have the whole story, but this. HIM! “When?” I demand louder.
“The night of the party.”
“Fuck!” I hit the wall beside her. He’s taken everything from me. I haven’t spoken to him in years. He was never a father. That word is earned. All he ever was to me was a sperm donor. The one mistake my mother ever made. “Why didn’t you tell me? All these years, you have never told me. Why?”
Her hand finds my chest, and her touch tempers the raging storm brewing inside me. “He told me he’d go after my family. They had secrets, and he’d expose them if I didn’t cooperate. But it was more than that for me. Had it only been about my family, I may have acted differently, but it wasn’t. You had already lost your mother. I never wanted to be the reason you lost your dad. I didn’t want you to resent me or our baby. I didn’t want to start wars before our son was born. I never wanted to make you choose, but he left me no choice.”
“My father was a piece of shit, Eloise. You should have told me.” I lean my forehead against hers, needing her touch to tame my beast. “You said you didn’t want me to choose, but I already had.” My hand snakes up to the back of her neck.
“What are you saying?”
I gently squeeze her neck before tangling my fingers in the hair at its base. “I cut all ties with Lucas Balfour the same week I came home and discovered you gave birth to our son. I haven’t spoken to him in six years.”
“What?” Her voice is small, but the regret is tangible. We’ve lost so much time. “How come I didn’t know this?”
“It didn’t affect you. There was nothing to tell.” Her hands fist in the lapels of my sports coat, and I know she has questions, but so do I. “Come on,” I say, breaking apart and claiming her hand. “We’re not doing this here.”
I pull her out of the room and start heading down the hall.
“The conservatory is the other way.”
“We’re leaving.”
She stops. “But what about Mr. Bronson? What about your career?”
“I’m not doing it, Eloise. I thought I could, but I can’t. I won’t pretend you’re nothing when you’re my everything.”
Those crystal blue orbs connect with mine, and she says, “Then don’t.”
I pull her flush against my front. “They’re going to want a story.” I don’t care if we give them shit, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t pushing now. I know what I’m asking of her. I’m asking her to choose me and not just behind closed doors. I’m asking her to give up our anonymity. I’m asking for proclamations. I’m asking for everything. The question is, will she take it? Am I her everything?
“Then we’ll give them one.”
I tip her chin up. “And which one is that?”
“Ours,” she murmurs, and I fuse my mouth to hers before she can say anything more.
My pounding heart matches every beat of hers as my lips press against hers long and hard in a claiming kiss that makes me forget everything I was terrified of losing. Right now, holding her soft body in my arms and feeling her mouth mirror my hunger, I know I bent the definition of faith to my will. She’s finally mine again, the way she was always meant to be. Now all that’s left is to make it so in every way, starting with showing that room full of people and the woman who dared to help the devil I used to call Dad what’s real.
I reluctantly release her lips. “Pit stop, and then we’re out of here.”
She smiles and reaches for my mouth with her thumb. “You have lipstick?—”
“Leave it.” I peck her red lips. “I want everyone to see where my lips have been and who they belong to.”
I reverse course and pull her behind me as we return to the conservatory. When I push open the door, all eyes are on us as the main course has now been served. Roe is the first person I see, and he smiles before bringing a napkin to his mouth to hide his smirk. Coach Beck’s eyebrows rise before he leans back in his chair, and I see understanding; he’s not mad. He knows she’s more than just a girl. She’s the mother of my child, the owner of my heart. This move might not be the path of least resistance, but it’s the one that puts my family first, and that can never be wrong. I walk toward the head of the table where I was seated beside Blair. I don’t bother sparing her a glance. I know she sees the lipstick I’m wearing and the girl whose fingers are laced through mine as I pull her behind me. I never wanted to play this game with her, and she’ll feel my wrath soon enough. If I looked at her now, I know I’d lose it, and right now, I’m not trying to be disrespectful of Mr. Bronson or this charity that means more to me than most know. I’m simply done hiding.
“Balfour, what’s going on?” Mr. Bronson asks, his eyes scouring my face before flicking to Eloise.
“I can’t give you the story you wanted. It’s fake news. I don’t know who leaked that picture of Blair and me to the press, but Blair Wyndham and I are not a couple. We’ve never been anything and never will be because I already have a girl. Eloise has been and always will be the only woman for me. She is my past, present, and future. I’ll accept whatever discipline you see fit, but I won’t be your puppet to sell tickets.”
“I see.” He wipes the corner of his mouth with his napkin. “And what of the article that releases tomorrow?”
“It won’t be published.”
“I already sent it to press.” Blair’s voice comes out in a shrill that sounds like nails on a chalkboard, and I grind my teeth to keep my response in check.
“Perk of dating a Beck. Her family owns the lion’s share of all the top publications, and anyone wanting a seat at the table knows better than to cross a Beck when a stop print has been issued from the top.”
Eloise squeezes my hand, and I shoot her a glance that says I’ll tell you later. She may have been gone for two days, but I knew whatever gossip Blair would write would be slander that I’d never allow to see the day of light. I texted Iverson for help to get it squashed.
“Need I remind you, Mr. Bronson, you asked for this,” Blair says through clenched teeth.
“You could always share the lie and own your ruse,” Dash interjects with a cocked eyebrow as he sips his drink, dimming my desire to punch him for the stunt he pulled earlier, putting his hands on my girl. Fake or not, I didn’t like it, but his comment now squashes any lingering doubts that he and Eloise have never been anything more than friends.
Mr. Bronson rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed with the disruption to his lunch, before pinning them back on Blair. “I know what I requested, Miss Wyndham, but that was before I knew I had a better story.” His eyes flick to mine.
“A story that will be released on our time,” I add firmly.
“We can discuss this in more detail in private,” Mr. Bronson agrees.
“You owe me a story,” Blair boldly challenges him.
“Isn’t your job to create stories. Make another one,” Mr. Bronson says, unworried by her threats. He’s a wealthy man with deep pockets and infinite connections, something I’m sure Blair is well aware of, so the fact that she’s challenging him is somewhat perplexing. He could ruin her with one phone call, leaving me to wonder if she doesn’t have something on him as well.
I hear Eloise’s phone vibrate and glance over in time to see the number on the screen. Adler is calling. “We have a personal matter to attend to,” I announce as I place my hand on Eloise’s back and guide her toward the exit, only stopping when I get to the door. “And in case I wasn’t clear, any articles written about Eloise or me without our consent will be viewed as libel. I won’t hesitate to use the full extent of the law and my resources to shut it down.” Without another word, we leave. The rage inside of me is slightly subdued. I got the girl, and I will not allow my past to take any more from me. It will die, and if it doesn’t. I will kill it.
“ M om, I was at the store today with Grandpa and saw a picture of Dad with someone else on the front of a magazine. I thought you went to Canada to bring him home so we could be a family,” Adler says as Eloise sits on the edge of the bed and speaks with him on FaceTime.
Her eyes meet mine, and I see her sadness. Hearing the hurt in our son’s voice is never easy, no matter what put it there, but it makes it harder now, knowing that we’re working on giving him the future he’s always wanted, and he had to see that.
“I’m sorry you saw that photo, buddy,” Eloise sympathizes.
I join her on the bed. “That picture wasn’t what it looked like, champ. You know how sometimes the news says things that aren’t so nice about Grandma Beck?”
While Eloise has done a phenomenal job keeping him away from prying eyes, he knows who his grandparents are. Ada Beck, Eloise’s mom, has no problem with the limelight, and because of that, she gets the good, bad, and ugly. But we’ve raised him to know what the truth looks like. He nods.
“That happens to me too, champ. But we’ve handled it, and there aren’t going to be any more pictures like that.” I bump Eloise’s shoulder. “Unless it’s me and Mom. Your mom is the only girl I love, Adler.” I know the word I just said, and it’s one I’ve used indirectly. I’ve admitted I love her; she read the words written in my journal, but I’ve yet to say them directly to her. No time has felt monumental enough to carry their weight. When I said it, I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted her to know I meant it with every ounce of my being, but I realize now no time will be perfect. They can only be perfect after the words are said. Saying them aloud for the first time with our son as witness feels right. This right here is my whole heart. Her eyes find mine, and she holds them, witnessing the depth of my confession.
“I’ve loved her since the first day I met her, and I’ll love her until the day I die.” Every single day, before I even knew her name, I loved her. I prayed for her and all that I have now. All the years of heartache were worth it to watch her pretty lips part and her free hand cover her chest as my words leave their mark on her heart.
“Did you hear that, Mom? Did you, did you? Dad says he loves you.”
She turns back to him. “Yeah, buddy. I heard him.”
“So you don’t have to cry anymore.”
She clears her throat. “Adler, buddy, what are you talking about?”
Yeah, champ, what are you talking about? I knew Eloise cried when we were younger. I listened and let my heart break right alongside hers, but I didn’t think she was still crying.
He looks away from the phone. “I hear you sometimes at night after you tuck me in. When I can’t fall asleep, I’ll sneak out of my room and sit at the top of the staircase and watch whatever show you have on TV, and sometimes you cry, but the show isn’t sad. You’re sad. Now you don’t have to be sad.”
She’s quiet, and I know it’s because she’s at a loss for words. That revelation is the last one she wanted me to hear.
“Adler,” Eloise’s dad calls. “Dinner is ready. Come get it before it’s cold.”
“Be right there, Grandpa,” he yells back.
“I gotta go.” His face drops, but only a little before he says, “Dad, I almost forgot that call they made against you for cross-checking LaRoi was crap. The refs had it out for you. They’re mad you played like a beast.”
“I deserved that suspension, champ. The puck was frozen, and I pushed back after the whistle was blown. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t intend to hit him in the neck. I’m responsible for my stick,” I remind him. Granted, given the night, the score, and the teams, some infractions are overlooked or missed altogether. However, I knew what I was doing. I was hoping for a suspension. In hockey, a suspended player can’t be in the arena during a game if a suspension is handed down, and while I may not have responded to Eloise’s texts, I read them. I wanted time with my girl, and now I have it.
Eloise looks at me with wide eyes. “You got suspended? How many games?”
“Just one. It’s not a big deal.”
“Well, tell Coach Beck if he’s mad to call me. You scored a hat trick and then got thrown out. It’s sus.”
“Remind me again what sus means?”
“Suspicious,” Eloise and Adler say in unison as though its meaning is blatantly obvious.
“Okay, I got to go. Love you, Mom, love you, Dad.” Adler hurries with a wave. “Grandpa made his five-cheese macaroni, and I don’t like it when it gets cold.”
“Bye, buddy, I love you,” Eloise says.
“Bye, champ,” I tag on.
We sit in silence after the call ends. I hate knowing that Adler had to see that picture, and while he’s young, he’s wise beyond his years. My little guy has been the man of the house, taking care of his mom the way I’ve wanted to, and while I know he’s aware his mother has always had my heart, I’m sure he’s upset that picture was released. I can’t help but feel like I failed him. I’m supposed to protect him and his mother, and that picture casts doubt; for that, Blair will pay. Eloise places the phone on the bedside table, and I consider bringing up the love comment, but I know it caught her off guard, and I don’t want to put her in a position where she feels like she needs to say it back. I only ever want to hear those words if she means them.
“I want to show you something,” I say, nudging her knee with mine. She turns to me with a soft smile and nods. I reach under the bed and pull out my playbook.
“Do you hide that somewhere new every day?” I furrow my brow, confused by her comment. “You’re always pulling that out of a different spot.”
My eyebrows rise as a realization sets in. “I guess it’s an old habit. This journal contains my thoughts, so I never kept it in one place. Nothing in my house was safe from my father’s prying eyes, but this playbook was usually tucked in my hockey bag or stacked with my schoolbooks, and for that reason, he never opened it.” I open the book and turn to the page I want her to read. Saving it with my finger, I say, “We have so much to talk about, but starting here feels right. Maybe after you read this, you’ll see we were never as far apart as you thought.”
The last thing I want is for her to feel guilt over a choice she made six years ago. There’s no taking it back, but I hope that when she reads the words I wrote, she’ll know I meant it when I said I chose her, but more than that: I chose me.
Playbook:
Faceoff
My head is a fucking mess. I came home for the holiday, something I considered finding an excuse to miss countless times. However, if there’s one thing I know that would set my dad off, it would have been skipping this damn religious break. God forbid we don’t huddle around the dining room table and fake it for Easter. But as I walk in the house for dinner, for once I’m glad for his cruelty. Were it not for the wrath I knew I’d face for skipping, I never would have run into Eloise and found out I have a son.
The news shook me to my core. Watching her hold my son felt like a future I thought I’d never have after I watched her walk out of my life. Since I discovered her secret, she hasn’t pushed me away. I’ve seen her and my son every day, but I know she’s keeping something from me. I hear her cry every time I leave, and the sadness I don’t understand brings me to my knees. It’s always been her. If she’d let me in, I’d spend eternity giving her my everything. I’d ensure no more tears are shed. I’d be whatever she needs because her happiness is mine. I’ve stayed outside her window and endured it with her every night because it’s my pain too and I’ll do whatever it takes to get her back.
Heading down the hall toward the formal dining room, my father steps into my path. “I know that look.”
His comment catches me off guard. “And what look is that?”
“You’ll have nothing to do with that child. It’s not your responsibility. She’s trying to ruin your life.”
“You knew, and you didn’t tell me.”
“Of course I knew. You’ll go back to school and forget you ever saw her and her bastard son.”
“That’s my son! You can’t keep him from me. Being part of his life is my choice, not yours.”
“If you want me to pay your tuition, you’ll do exactly what I say and return to school.”
“Money… really, that’s what we’re going back to. I don’t know why you think you can keep me in line by threatening me with money. I don’t want your fucking money. You can’t put a price tag on my son. You can keep your money. I never wanted it anyway. I’m done.”
“Don’t you dare walk away from me, Callum. I’m your father.”
“You were never a father to me. He died alongside my mother.”
I turn on my heel and head straight for my room. I’ve never liked him. Now I fucking hate him. How could he keep this from me? How could he call his grandson a bastard?
BECAUSE HE’S A MONSTER.
For years I’ve tried to tell myself it was me, it wasn’t him. I grew up without a mom, and the hole her absence left in my heart wasn’t always easy to hide. Lucas wasn’t cold and heartless, but he simply couldn’t fill the hole. He couldn’t replace what I had lost, but now with utter certainty, I know that was never true.
Lucas never sent me away to a boarding school, never hired help to watch over me, and no sleepovers with cousins or grandparents. No, my father wanted me close so he could deliver his psychological manipulations whenever he saw fit. He tried to mold me for years, but I was stubborn, and the more he told me I got that from my mother, the more bullheaded I became. I have no memories of my mother. I know she loved me, but the only way I know that is from a journal I found tucked away behind some books on a shelf in the library. It’s why I came to my room in the first place. I can’t leave without it.
My mother’s journaling was sporadic, similar to my own. She journaled moments, not days. I suppose my desire to pick up a pen and do the same came from her. Or maybe it’s the result of living with a narcissist. You need a place to hear yourself think and remember things as they are, not how they spin them. I take one last look around my room, in a house I never called home, a place I’ve been desperately trying to escape, but now I don’t want to leave. I have a reason to stay. Eloise and my son are here. She is the only future I want. Going away didn’t make that less true, but now I can’t stay. I know Eloise doesn’t need my money, but walking away from my father means I have nothing, not that I ever had anything to begin with. I have to leave now, and I can’t come back until I make something of myself. I have a family now. I’ve never had that. I can’t mess this up.
I watch as Eloise closes the book, and I say, “I would have stayed if you asked me to, but now you know why I didn’t. I wanted to make something of myself. I needed to. I needed to be someone my son looked up to, someone who could provide for him. I needed to be the dad he was proud of. I wanted to be all the things I never had.” Her eyes soften before she drops her head, and I’m quick to sit beside her. I pick up her hand. “Tell me. I want to know what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking a lot of things, but right now, I’m drowning in my selfishness. I never wanted to stand in the way of your hockey. You were so good at it. It was your dream, and I never wanted to keep you from it, but”—she shakes her head—“but selfishly, I wanted you to choose me. To choose us, and because you didn’t, I told myself you didn’t genuinely want the same things.” She squeezes my hand, and her sad eyes find mine. “I’ve always known you cared, and you’re a great dad to our son, one of the best. But I didn’t know, I didn’t know your reasons, and I feel like the most selfish person in the world for never asking. I never knew things were bad for you at home. I only saw myself. Today, Blair’s lies cut deep because in the back of my head, I had memories of you never defending me in front of him.”
“Fuck.” I stand up and run my hands through my hair. “I saw things differently back then. I remember every word he ever said to you.” My eyes find hers. “That monster is my father. Over the years, I taught myself to be non-reactive to them. I’d heard his condescending rhetoric my whole life. I didn’t get a free pass for being his blood. When I was young, I talked back, and I stuck up for myself, but my father is a very manipulative man. He can make a wise man think himself a fool. That’s why I found ignoring him was best. When I ignored him, he’d believe he’d won, and I wasn’t subjected to his mind control tactics.” I exhale the weight of a past I desperately want to forget. “Come on.” I take her hand and tug her off the bed. “I ran you a bath while you were reading.”
“Cal, I dropped a bomb on you today. We need to talk about it.”
I pull her in and hold her tight. She’s not wrong. The last thing I ever thought stood between me and my happy ever after with her and my son was my dad and his threats. We spent the drive home in silence. I had so many questions and a million things I wanted to say, but I also needed to sit with it, and she needed to do the same. She held that secret close to her for the past six years. I now know why she cried every time I left, why it felt like I was her home, but she continued to push me away anyway. It was all because of him. Even now, just thinking about it, I can feel my blood heating, but I need something more than revenge, more than regrets and a past we can’t change. I need my girl.
“Everything that’s been there will still be there tomorrow.” I kiss the top of her head. “Let me take care of you.”
“Fine, a bath does sound really nice, especially after my revenge dress didn’t do my back any favors when I chose those damn heels.”
“Revenge dress?” I can’t help but laugh.
She swats my chest. “Yeah, I wanted to look hot today. You ignored all my calls, and I didn’t know where your head was.” She heads into the bathroom. “Plus, I knew Blair was going to be there. I couldn’t have her looking better than me.”
“Impossible. You could show up in a brown sack and still look better than Blair Wyndham,” I call over my shoulder as I grab her robe off the bed.
By the time I bring it to the bathroom, she’s already slipped out of her dress and sunken below the bubbles. I place her robe on the vanity and start taking off my clothes.
“What are you doing?” she questions, her brows tugged together.
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m taking my clothes off.”
“I can see that. Why?”
“I’m joining you.” I drop my briefs and her mouth opens, surely to object, but no words come out when her eyes land on my hard length. The second my hands felt the silk of her robe, I started hardening, knowing I planned to join her all along, but seeing her blue dress piled on the floor coupled with the knowledge that the body I planned on reacquainting myself with was naked, instantly had me fully erect. She doesn’t protest as I stalk over to the bath. “Slide forward,” I say tenderly.
After I’m seated behind her, she slowly scoots back and settles against my front, and somehow, this moment feels more intimate than any we’ve ever shared. Sitting naked with her wrapped in my arms feels vulnerable. The physical touch, the openness, and relaxation. This time with her is all I’ve ever wanted, and I finally have it.
“I like this,” she speaks softly.
“Me too,” I say, kissing the side of her temple. I reach for one of the bath oils I added earlier and pour it between my hands before bringing them to her shoulders and slowly starting to massage. “That feels amazing, though I should be the one rubbing you. You’re the one taking hits on the ice every day.”
“I’ll never say no to you putting your hands on my body, but right now is about you. You gave me something today and?—”
“The painting?”
Technically, she gave me that too, but that’s not what I had in mind. “Your truth, the one that tore you up inside. You gave it to me. You trusted me with it and it reminded me of something Arlo said?—”
“Are you really bringing up another man while you have me naked in the bath?”
“No.” I abandon her shoulders and wrap my arms around her. “If you’d stop interrupting… When he was here, I was frustrated that I still didn’t know what happened to us. He was still protecting you, but something he said stuck. ‘When she tells you her truth and lays everything at your feet, it will be worth it because it’s then I would know without a doubt I was the keeper of her heart.’”
“For what it’s worth, I never told Arlo about what happened with your dad. When everything went down, he was hiding under your dad’s desk with a girl.”
Knowing that she didn’t choose to confide in him over me but rather their connection was one of happenstance colors our past differently. Arlo’s earlier words about her needing him resonate in a different way. My arms loosen. Unwrapping them, I let my palms skim the few short inches up her torso until the weight of her breasts is in my hands.
“I think you were right before. I don’t want to talk about other men while I have you naked in the bath,” I say as I trail my fingertips over the swell of her breasts, her skin prickling beneath my touch.
I can’t help the directions of my thoughts, and there’s a reason I wanted to put off talking about everything until tomorrow. I want her to myself, mind, soul, and body tonight. I cup her tits and push them together before pinching her nipples between my thumb and forefinger.
“Mmm,” she draws out a long, throaty moan, and my dick twitches against her back. Her hand snakes around and strokes my cock, and I expel my own hoarse groan of satisfaction. “Cal?” She says my name in question, but my lips don’t move quick enough because before I can respond, she’s turning around, her mouth inches away from mine. “I want to finish what we started the other day.” Her lips brush against mine softly until I pull her hips forward, aligning her center with my hard length.
She grinds herself against me, her soft lips molding around my cock while her endless blue eyes hold me prisoner. “Fuck, Eloise. You know I want this more than anything. Don’t tease me.”
Her pretty lips hover above mine, her sweet breath skating across my eager mouth, ready to take it. “You feel so good like this,” she mutters, her voice husky as she continues to grind her pussy against my cock. Her perky tits are erect, her nipples tantalizingly dragging across my chest with each pass, and I’m enamored. I can’t take my eyes off her. Right now, she’s in control, choosing to use my body to make herself feel good… choosing to use me, and I am but a fiend.
I feel her legs stiffen, and it snaps me out of my drunken trance. “That’s it, come on my cock,” I say as I crush my mouth to hers, knowing she’s seconds away from finding her release and wanting to swallow every one of her delicious mewls. She detonates, and my chest vibrates as I let out a groan of my own when I feel her nails dig into my shoulders. Fuck, why does that turn me on so much? I let her have her moment but not for long. I need to be inside of her. As much as I don’t want to, I break our kiss and still her hips. Her hooded gaze lands on mine and nearly takes my breath away. God, it feels like I’ve waited an eternity to have it directed at me again. I pull her against my front and start to get up.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking you to bed. Once I have you, there will be no stopping.”
I lift us out of the bath with her wrapped around me and carry her to the bed, laying her down gently before settling between her spread thighs and aligning myself with her entrance.
“Go slow.”
She said that in the kitchen too, and half the reason I wasn’t fully seated and ten pumps in before coach Beck showed up was because of how fucking tight she was. I run my tip up her center, dipping it in just enough with each pass to coat my cock with her juices before pushing in.
“Blondie, relax for me, baby,” I say, peppering the side of her neck with kisses. With each kiss, I feel her loosen, but it doesn’t come without a small whimper. “Why do I feel like I’m hurting you?” I ask, finding her eyes.
She shakes her head. “You’re not hurting me. It feels good.” Her heels press into my ass. “I want this.” I gain another inch as her lips thin. “It’s just been a while.”
My heart stutters as the thought that maybe I was her last dares to flick across my mind. Sure, I kept tabs and scared off any potential suitor who thought to look her way, but maybe not soon enough. “How long is a while?”
“It’s not important. I don’t ask you about all your hookups. Don’t ask me about mine.”
“One,” I say, and her brow furrows. “One girl, one time the summer you left me before I ever found out you were pregnant.” I thought sleeping with someone else would help me get over her, but it didn’t, and it wasn’t much longer after I found out about Adler. There wasn’t going to be anyone else, not unless it was her.
“But you said?—”
“I know what I said. I lied. You already thought I was laying it on thick. Telling you I couldn’t fuck anyone who wasn’t you felt like it might do more damage than good.”
The depth of my obsession is mine.
Her blue eyes hold mine, and she says one word. “You.”
“Me?” I question, my eyes searching hers for confirmation that I’m not hallucinating and that she is, in fact, admitting that I’m her last.
Her hand slides into my hair. “You are the last man I slept with.”
My mouth crashes to hers at the admission. The woman I love with everything that I am hasn’t been with anyone else but me. I was her first, and I damn sure will be her last. My tongue dives deep at the same time her heels dig in harder, and I fully seat myself inside my home. We both release euphoric moans, and I feel myself twitch inside of her. Fuck, I could come just like this.
I start slow, as promised. I need to in order to control my own desire, which has me on the verge of losing it right now. “You feel so fucking good.”
The more I talk, the wetter she gets, and I fucking love it. I push up on my arms to watch myself disappear inside of her and look up just in time to catch her doing the same.
“We forgot the condom.”
“What?” I slam in hard and deep, and she gasps. “I don’t need a condom. I’m clean, and in case you haven’t figured it out, you and I are happening. You’re mine. You don’t get to leave me again.”
“I meant for contraceptive.”
“Aren’t you on the pill?”
“I am, but I was on the pill when I got pregnant with Adler, too.”
I pull back and slam in again before dropping down to my elbows. “Still don’t need one. I want a little girl.”
She doesn’t object, and I take her lips in mine as I pick up my pace, taking her silence as acceptance. Her tits bounce as I pump into her at a piston’s pace, and her walls quickly start to clench. “Cal, slow down. I’m not ready to come again,” she breathlessly pants.
“Baby, I’m nowhere near done with you. You’re going to come for me now and again and again.”
Her hands find my chest, and she subtly pushes against me, and I slow. “I want you to come with me… please.” Her eyes search mine and I hear her request.
My hands cradle her face as I drop my forehead to hers. “You drive me crazy, Eloise Grey. I lose control when I’m inside of you.” I gently take her mouth and pump her in long, slow strokes. This woman is my forever. I want to cherish and savor every second she allows me to have her. Our eyes stay locked as my tip drags over the spot I know drives her crazy, and I know this moment will be short-lived. Her breathing is shallow, matching my own, as the sound of our arousal takes center stage, denoting our intimate reunion.
I hike her right leg up and pull it over my hip, driving in deeper, and she gasps.
“Don’t stop, Cal.”
Her words trigger an avalanche of unexpected emotions that all come crashing down at once as I give her what she asks. I have my girl, not just pieces of her, but all of her. She’s taking me bare, knowing the risks and allowing them all the same. Without words, she’s saying yes to the same future I want. I have everything I’ve ever wanted my whole life, love, completeness, and a family, but I also have fear, and as I find my release, the fear in my heart takes a jump of its own, and I give it to her.
“You can’t leave me. Fuck.” I drop my head into the crook of her neck. “You can’t leave me, not again.”
Her arms and legs wrap around me. “Baby, I’m sorry. There’s nothing else left to tell. You have everything. Every piece I’ve held inside for all these years, you have them all. I promise I’m not going anywhere. Six years has felt like a lifetime. It’s always been you, Cal.”
“Swear it.” I kiss her neck as her words feel like a lifeline to the SOS that has been scarred into my soul for a lifetime. “Swear this is it. Me and you.”
“I swear. I want to spend the rest of my days being yours.”
Those are the last words we said before we wordlessly got tangled up and lost finding our way back home.