Chapter 27 #2
Her gaze finds mine across the lot and the world goes quiet. No more car engines, no more kids shouting. Nothing but the way she looks at me. Callie stares at me as if I’m good. A man worthy of a woman like her. I won’t let her in on my secret.
I’m not even close to good enough for her, but I’m too selfish to let her go now that she’s back. She says something to the last parent, gives one final wave to a kid hanging out a car window, then starts walking toward me.
That car. I scan the lot, but when I look back to where I thought I saw it, there’s nothing but empty asphalt. Good. I don’t like the idea of that asshole being anywhere near my girl. My focus zips back to her. All sunshine and chaos. Each step she takes sends heat racing through my veins.
“What are you doing here?” she asks with a grin. “Stalking me?”
“Maybe.” I grin. “Nah, I thought maybe you’d let me take you on a date.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “A date, huh?”
I nod, resisting every primal urge screaming at me to pull her into my arms and kiss her until she forgets her own name.
The kids probably wouldn’t appreciate the show.
The parents definitely wouldn’t. Instead, I check her out, taking in the way her jeans hug her curves and how her shirt brings out the green in her eyes.
Callie is perfect in every way. Her mischievous eyes glitter with something that makes me want to stake my claim right here in front of God and everyone.
“Hey, Knox.”
Brax’s voice cuts through my possessive haze. He appears so suddenly it’s like he materialized out of thin air. That’s how much Callie consumes me.
“What’s going on?” He glances between Callie and me. I brace myself for his jealousy. We’ve talked about how this would work, but talking is a whole lot different than action.
“I’m taking Callie out,” I say, ignoring her mutter about how she hasn’t actually agreed to anything yet.
I study my brother’s face, searching for any trace of irritation or resentment.
We used to compete for everything as kids.
Who could run faster, who could eat more pizza, who could make Callie laugh harder and the competition always turned into fights.
But all I find in his expression is genuine warmth and maybe a hint of relief.
“Have a good time.” He smiles at Callie. “Try to behave yourself, Alley cat.”
She makes a sound. “Since when do I behave?”
“Fair point.” Brax heads toward his own car, calling over his shoulder, “Don’t keep her out too late, Knox. She has to teach tomorrow.”
“Okay, dad,” I tease, voice catching on the word. It’s getting easier to joke about that type of stuff, but I still miss him every day.
Callie studies me as Brax drives away. The parking lot is emptying out, leaving us suspended in quiet anticipation.
The way she looks at me is as if she’s peering into my soul, stripping me bare in a matter of seconds.
Part of me worries she won’t like what she sees, but her features soften, and she clears her throat.
“So where are we going?”
“I thought you didn’t agree?” I push off the truck and step closer, close enough to smell the faint scent of her rosemary and mint shampoo.
She lifts a shoulder and glances away with a smile. “Changed my mind.”
“Playing hardball, huh?” Chuckling, I reach around her to open the passenger door. “How do you feel about Thai food?”
Her face lights up. “I haven’t had time to go since I’ve been back, part of me was terrified it would be closed.”
“Still there, and it still has those spring rolls you love.”
“Why are you still talking? Get in the truck!”
I gesture toward the passenger seat. “After you.”
She climbs in and I close the door behind her, taking a moment to collect myself before walking around to the driver’s side.
The second I’m inside, I reach for her, threading my fingers through her hair and pulling her mouth to mine.
She gasps against my lips, her hands fisting in my shirt.
I’m hit with a wave of possessive desire.
I want to take her right here, right now.
But the rational part of my brain, the part that’s not drowning in the taste of her, knows better. A man never stands between a woman and food. So I settle for kissing her until my lungs demand oxygen and she’s melting against me. We’re both breathing hard when I pull back.
Her pupils are blown wide, cheeks pink.
I memorize the desire on her face, smirk, and turn the truck on. My hand finds its way to her thigh as I navigate out of the parking lot.
The Thai food sits between us, steam curling up from the pad thai and green curry, but I can’t focus on anything except the way Callie’s nose crinkles when she laughs.
She’s telling me about some disaster with the neighbor’s dog and her dad, gesturing wildly, and I’m struck by how grown up she is.
She’s still the same girl I remember but there’s something more sophisticated about her now.
“You’re not even listening to me.”
“I am.” I lean back in the booth, fighting a grin. “Your neighbor’s dog has boundary issues, and your dad needs a better belt.”
“But you’ve been staring at me with this weird look.” She swipes at her cheek. “Do I have food on my face?”
“No, no,” I say quickly, rubbing my jaw and looking away.
“What is it?” she asks softly.
Shit. Now I’ve made her worry. Exhaling long and low, I focus on her. “I missed watching you grow into the woman you are now.” The words hang heavy between us. Her fork freezes halfway to her mouth.
“I mean—" I scramble to backtrack, but she sets her fork down and leans forward.
“What do you mean?”
My heart thumps a little harder. I shouldn’t have said anything.
I’m not good with emotions, and sometimes I say the wrong thing.
More often than not, it’s better if I keep my mouth shut.
But looking at her now, seeing the way the light from the window catches the gold flecks in her eyes, I can’t seem to stop myself.
“I followed your social media.” The confession tumbles out before I can stop it. “All of them. Instagram, Facebook, even that artsy platform you posted on sometimes.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “You stalked me?”
“Not stalked.”
“You followed all of my accounts?”
I nod.
“Looked at all my posts?” she asks.
Guilty. I swallow. “Yeah,” I rasp.
She hums. “Sounds a lot like stalking to me.”
“You make it sound creepy,” I grumble.
“What was it like then?”
I grab my beer and pick at the edge of the label, needing something to do with my hands. “I made up stories about what you were doing. What you would tell me if you would have called.”
“Stories?” She tilts her head, and there’s something soft in her voice that makes my chest ache.
“Yeah. Like when you’d post a picture but no context, I’d fill in the blanks. Create this whole narrative about your day.”
Curiosity swims across her face. “Give me an example.”
I pull out my phone before I lose my nerve, scrolling back through the screenshots I definitely shouldn’t have saved. Finding the one I’m looking for, I turn the screen toward her.
It’s a selfie from last winter, her cheeks pink from cold, the Wollman Rink in Central Park blurred behind her. She’s grinning, snowflakes caught in her dark hair.
“This one.” My voice comes out rough. “I imagined your friends struggling to stay upright on the ice, wobbling around. But not you.”
Her lips part slightly as she stares at the photo.
“I pictured you skating circles around everyone, like you used to do on the pond down Old Basket Road before Mr. Rogers would chase us off his property with his shotgun.” The memory makes me smile despite the ache in my chest. The gun was never loaded, but the four of us screamed and ran away as if it were, scurrying off his property while we laughed.
Mr. Rogers’s threats never stopped us from going back.
Being on the ice with Callie and my brothers is one of my favorite memories.
“You were fearless on the ice. Still are, apparently.”
“Knox.”
Now that I’ve started, I can’t stop. She has to know how much she means to me.
How even when hundreds of miles separated us, her memory was the thing that kept me moving.
Somehow, I knew she’d come back to me. “I imagined your hair whipping in the wind, your cheeks getting pinker from the cold and the speed. Everyone else hanging onto the walls while you glided backward.” I’m lost in the fantasy now, the one I’ve played out in my head a hundred times.
“And then I imagined myself there, leaning against the boards, watching you.”
“In my head, you’d skate up to me at the end, all breathless and laughing. And you’d. . .” My voice drops to barely a whisper. This is the most shameful part of my fantasy—imagining that she loved me.
“I’d what?”
I clear my throat. “You’d kiss me.”
The silence stretches between us like a taut wire. I force myself to meet her gaze, expecting to see pity or worse, panic. Instead, her eyes are guarded.
“You think I’m fucking crazy.” I start to put my phone away, but her hand shoots out to cover mine.
“No.” Her voice cracks. “Knox, no. That’s not what I think at all.”
“Then what?”
“I-I felt that pain too, you know. Life without you and your brothers was awful. It was like walking around missing this huge part of my heart, and I didn’t know how to function without it.
” Her features pinch and she rubs at her sternum.
“I made a lot of stupid decisions after I left because I didn’t have you by my side. ”
“I was so hurt, Knox. Scared to even think about you guys sometimes. What Penelope did, what I thought you did?” Her breath catches. “Sorry. I’m not mad at you anymore. I know it wasn’t you, but back when I left, it felt like I’d been cut open and left to bleed out.”
My throat constricts. I should have done more to talk to her. To tell her the truth. “Callie,” I begin, but she doesn’t let me finish.