Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CALLUM
The first thing I notice is warmth. Soft, steady warmth pressed against my chest. Rose’s hair tickles my chin, her breathing slow and even. For a long moment, I just lie there, memorising the weight of her, the scent of her shampoo, the way we’re tangled together as though she’s been there forever.
It’s early, pale light slipping between the blinds.
The city beyond the glass is still. My muscles ache from yesterday’s training, but it’s the good kind of ache.
The kind that reminds you you’re alive. I shift slightly and she murmurs something in her sleep, a soft sound that punches straight through my chest. She’s wearing my T-shirt, and it’s slipping off one shoulder.
My hand drifts to her waist, fingers tracing idle circles against her skin.
She stirs, eyes fluttering open, hazy and beautiful.
“Morning,” she whispers, voice thick with sleep.
“Morning,” I murmur back.
There’s a lazy smile tugging at her lips. “You’re staring.”
“Can you blame me?” I say, brushing my thumb along her jaw. “Not every morning looks like this.”
She hums, stretching before curling back into me. “You planning to let me get up at some point?”
“Eventually,” I say. “Might take some convincing though.”
Her laugh vibrates against my chest. “Coffee would do it.”
I groan. “You’re cruel.”
But I go anyway. Because for once, I want to do the little things, like make her coffee and toast, the works. She sits at the counter wearing my shirt with her hair a mess and her legs bare, she looks like sin wrapped in sunshine. When I set her mug down, she grins.
“Look at you, all domestic and everything.”
“Don’t tell the guys,” I warn, leaning against the counter. “They’ll think I’ve gone soft.”
“You have,” she teases, sipping her coffee.
“Only for you,” I mutter before I can stop myself.
Her eyes snap up, there’s something flickering there, warmth with maybe a hint of fear. I clear my throat. “We should go out tonight.”
Her brows rise. “Out?”
“Yeah. Proper date. You, me, somewhere that doesn’t smell like sweat or takeout.”
Her smile softens. “Are you asking me on a date?”
I grin. “Depends. Are you saying yes?”
“Maybe,” she says, but her eyes give her away.
We spend the rest of the morning getting comfortable around each other.
Rose showers first and it takes all of my willpower not to climb in behind her and relive all of last nights memories.
But I’m trying to show my best side. The side of me that I’ve forgotten exists while dating Talia.
When Rose steps out of the bathroom, she has a towel wrapped tightly around her body and a beautiful soft glow taints her cheeks. I’ve never seen anyone more stunning.
“I’ll be five minutes, then I’ll drop you at work before I head to the rink, okay?
” I drop a barely-there kiss on her lips with a wink.
As I pass, I can’t resist giving her ass a little slap.
The sound that leaves her lips makes my cock spring to life.
But I don’t have time to indulge right now, no matter how much I want to.
I have to be at the rink in thirty minutes.
Training hits hard, the drills are relentless.
Coach is on our backs, hounding us to give him everything we have.
The rink hums with noise and movement, skates biting into ice, sticks cracking against pucks.
I’m focused, mostly. But every time I pause, Rose flashes through my mind.
Images of her at my counter, laughing, barefoot and half awake.
They’re quickly replaced with technicolour thoughts of our antics under the sheets.
Ryan notices first. “Mate,” he says between drills, panting. “You’ve got that look.”
“What look?” I shoot back, my breath clouding the air.
“The post-sex serenity glow,” Lukas says, skating up beside us with a wicked grin.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter.
Ryan grins. “He’s not denying it, boys.”
I shoulder-check him lightly. “Maybe because I’m too busy not caring.”
“Sure, sure,” Lukas says. “Tell us more about this photographer you’re totally not shagging.”
I roll my eyes. “Grow up.”
Ryan smirks. “Nah, I like this version of you. Brooding and secretly loved up.”
I’m about to fire something back when Lukas’ expression shifts. He’s holding his phone, brow furrowed. “Uh, Cal… mate, you’ve seen this?”
He flips the screen toward me, and my stomach drops.
It’s a photo of me and Talia. It’s old, from months back, taken at some team event before everything imploded. She’s laughing, her hand resting on my chest, and the caption burns in my skull.
Some people forget where they came from. Don’t worry, I don’t.
Beneath it, comments are exploding with speculation and accusations. Some tagging the team. Some tagging Rose. The blood roars in my ears.
Lukas winces. “There’s more.”
He scrolls, showing me a second post. This one zoomed in on the rink, me in the background, and Rose on the sidelines holding her camera. The caption?
Funny how fast people move on. Some girls don’t mind being a rebound.
My vision tunnels.
“Fucking hell,” Ryan mutters. “That’s low.”
Lukas shifts uneasily. “You gonna talk to her?”
“I already did,” I snap. “Told her it was over. Told her to leave it.”
Ryan whistles softly. “She’s not taking the hint.”
“She will.” My voice is sharper than I mean, but my temper’s already teetering on the edge. I shove my stick into the boards, jaw clenched so tight it aches. “She doesn’t get to drag Rose into this. There is no scandal and Talia doesn’t get to play the woman scorned.”
Lukas lays a hand on my shoulder. “You want me to flag it with media? Get ahead of it before the press starts sniffing?”
“Yeah,” I grind out. “Do it.”
He nods, skating off. Ryan lingers a moment. “You good?”
“Not yet,” I say. “But I will be.” Because now it’s personal. And I will not let her hurt Rose.
By the time I make it back to my flat that evening, the anger’s cooled into determination. The last thing I want is for Rose to think she’s part of some scandal. She deserves better than that, better than me, even, but I’m selfish enough to want her anyway.
When she steps out of the bathroom, she’s dressed in a simple, soft blue dress that makes her eyes glow. Her hair is loose, and she flashes me that nervous smile that always wrecks me.
“Wow,” I say, stepping closer. “You look unbelievable.”
Her cheeks pinken. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
I glance down at my dark shirt with the sleeves rolled up, my jacket clenched in my hand. “Didn’t want to embarrass you in front of the posh people.”
She laughs softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You could show up in joggers and still pull focus.”
“Noted,” I say, offering my arm. “Let’s go before I forget how to act civilised.”
The restaurant is tucked away on a quiet street just on the edge of town, candlelight glinting through the windows. Inside, it’s warm, and full of low chatter and soft music. We get a booth near the back. It’s private enough that it feels as though the world’s melted away.
Rose glances around, a little wide-eyed. “This is fancy.”
“Only the best,” I say. “Though I can’t promise I know how to pronounce half the menu.”
She laughs, leaning closer. “I’ll help you out. I’ve mastered the art of pretending I know what I’m doing.”
“Is that what this is?” I tease. “A fake-it-till-you-make-it situation?”
“Maybe,” she says, eyes glinting. “But you’re not making it easy to concentrate.”
“Good,” I murmur, reaching for her hand under the table.
She lets me take it, our fingers threading together as if they’ve done it a hundred times before. For a while, it’s just us, eating amazing food and enjoying easy conversation, with the kind of laughter that sits comfortably in the air. I forget about everything else.
Halfway through dessert, she tilts her head. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say automatically. Then I add, “Talia made another move today.”
Her fork stills. “I saw.”
My chest tightens. “Shit. I was going to tell you.”
“I figured.” She gives a small, brave smile. “It’s fine. I know she’s trying to get a reaction.”
“Doesn’t make it right.” My tone darkens. “She doesn’t get to use you for leverage.”
Rose reaches across the table, squeezing my hand. “Hey. Look at me.”
I do.
“I don’t care what she posts,” she says softly. “I know you’d split with her before any of this… You’d already made your choice.”
Something in me unclenches at that. The noise, the gossip, all the mess and turmoil that surrounds Talia fades. What’s left is Rose. Always Rose. “I have,” I say, my voice rough. “And I’m not changing it.”
Her lips part slightly, like she’s about to speak, but I don’t let her. I lean across the table, kissing her once, it’s quick and soft, but full of meaning. She tastes of red wine, and kissing her feels like breathing after being underwater too long.
The waiter clears his throat somewhere nearby.
We break apart, laughing quietly. I fish my wallet out of my pocket and hand it over to pay the bill.
Rose tries to protest but I silence her with a kiss and a promise she can repay me when the Team pays her for the photo shoot. That seems to appease her for now.
When we step outside, the rain has started again. Light, silver drizzle shimmers under the streetlamps. She shivers, and I slip my jacket over her shoulders without thinking.
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
“Don’t mention it,” I say, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Can’t have my date freezing on me.”
“Your date?” she echoes, teasing.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice low. “That’s what you are now.”
We stop under an awning, the city lights reflected in the puddles. She looks up at me through the soft rain, and everything else disappears. No rink, no headlines, no Talia. Just her. “I like you, Rose,” I say quietly. “More than I probably should.”
She smiles faintly. “That’s good. Because I’m definitely in trouble.”
My laugh is quiet but heartfelt. I step closer, hands sliding to her waist. “Then we’re both screwed.”
Her eyes shine as she whispers, “Maybe that’s the point.”
I kiss her again, longer this time, deeper. The kind of kiss that seals and promises things. The rain hits harder, soaking into our hair and clothes, but neither of us moves. When we finally break apart, she’s breathless, and laughing softly. “We’re standing in the rain like a bad rom-com.”
“Yeah,” I say. “But mine has a better ending.”
By the time we get back to my car, she’s shivering, and I reach over to turn the heater up. She rests her hand on my thigh, casual, like it belongs there. Because it does.
At the next red light, she looks at me. “You okay?”
“I am now,” I say honestly. “Today was a mess, but tonight…” I glance over. “You made it better.”
She smiles, “That’s what I’m here for.”
My chest tightens in that weird way that sits somewhere between want and need. “You’re here for a lot more than that.”
Her fingers tighten just slightly on my thigh, and the silence that follows isn’t heavy, it’s full.
When we reach her building, she hesitates, then leans over to kiss me goodnight. It’s supposed to be quick. It isn’t. By the time she pulls back, my pulse is hammering.
“Goodnight, Callum,” she whispers.
“Night, Rose.”
I watch her go, every instinct screaming at me to follow her, but I stay put. For the first time, I don’t feel restless. I feel certain.
Because no matter what Talia throws at me next, I know what I’m fighting for now.
And I’ll protect it, I’ll protect her, with everything I’ve got.