Chapter 29
Lana
The weight of Callan’s arm draped over my waist, and his warm body pressed against my back was what I felt first when I woke up.
I blinked my eyes open, adjusting to the darkness and quiet that filled the room.
There was no noise coming from downstairs anymore, but the party was the least of my worries.
I left Holland downstairs earlier, and now I was in bed with Callan even though she was the one who was supposed to stay over.
I carefully untangled myself from his embrace, his arm falling heavily onto the mattress.
He didn’t stir, just let out a sigh and kept sleeping with his face buried in the pillow.
For a moment, I just watched him. The peaceful lines of his face were a harsh contrast to the intense, hungry man he had been just hours ago.
I slid out of bed, grabbed his discarded t-shirt from the floor, and pulled it on. Then I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and looked at the time. It was past four in the morning.
Silently, I stepped out of my bedroom and was immediately hit by the bright lights that were still burning. The party was over, and the people were all gone, but they had left the house alive.
I padded down the stairs, ignoring all the empty cups and bottles, and went into the kitchen to get myself a glass of water before calling Holland.
I felt guilty for leaving her. I hadn’t texted her.
I’d just disappeared with Callan, caught up in the moment, and abandoned my best friend.
It rang twice before she picked up, her voice thick with sleep.
“Lana? It’s like four in the morning. Is everything okay? ”
“I’m so sorry, Holls. I’m the worst friend in the world. I just left you without a word.”
There was a rustling on the other end, then a soft laugh. “It’s fine, seriously. Don’t worry about it.”
“But I—”
“Relax,” she cut me off, her voice a little clearer now. “I’m a big girl, I can handle myself. Besides,” she added, a mischievous tone creeping into her voice, “I didn’t go home alone.”
So she was home. That’s good. “You didn’t?”
“Nope,” she said, and I could practically hear the smug grin in her voice. “I took Rocco home.”
My eyes widened. “Rocco?”
“Yup. Talked to him in the kitchen, and he was basically eye-fucking me the whole time. And you know I would never say no to a good fuck. And, I mean, he’s the Rocco Ram. I’d be stupid not to take him home.”
A wave of relief washed over me, knowing she was safe and home. “Okay. Well, in that case, I’m slightly less sorry.”
She laughed softly. “It’s fine, Lana. He was charming and very, very flexible.”
I pressed my lips together, trying not to imagine Rocco doing weird things with his body. “That, uhm…sounds interesting,” I said, amused.
“It is. Now, unless you’re calling to give me a play-by-play of your own night, I’m going to hang up and go back to my…guest.”
“Okay, okay, I’m going,” I laughed. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“You bet we will. Love you, good night,” she said, and then the line went dead.
I stood in the quiet kitchen for another minute, drinking my water. Holland was fine. Better than fine. I felt the last of my guilt evaporate and be replaced by a content feeling. I put my phone back on the counter and headed back upstairs.
When I slipped back into my room, Callan was sitting up in bed, with his back against the headboard. He was watching me with his eyes heavy-lidded with sleep.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, walking over to the bed. “Just checking on Holland. She, uh…she took Rocco home.”
He raised a brow. “She did?”
“Yeah. Guess she had her fun last night too.”
The amusement in his eyes only lasted so long. His gaze softened as I got closer, and I crawled back into bed, settling under the covers beside him.
“Does she know who he is?” he asked, opening his arms for me. I went into them willingly, settling my head against his chest as he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight.
“Oh, for sure. She kinda watches his videos. And yours.”
He didn’t reply. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head, his lips lingering in my hair as my body relaxed against his.
“Come here,” he murmured, his hand stroking up and down my back in a slow, soothing rhythm.
I snuggled closer, my arm draped across his stomach, and my leg entwined with his.
This felt normal. Like we had done this many times before.
I didn’t want to get used to this, but my heart had other plans.
I closed my eyes and let the feeling of safety and comfort come over me.
Within minutes, we were both asleep again.
***
I woke up later that morning alone in my bed.
The space beside me was empty, but his scent was still there.
I stayed in bed for a little while longer before getting up.
I was still wearing his t-shirt but no panties, so I headed over to my dresser, pulling on a fresh pair of panties before heading downstairs.
As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I saw a small team of cleaning personnel moving through the house with silent efficiency, wiping down surfaces, vacuuming, and restoring order to the chaos the party had left behind.
I continued into the kitchen and stopped.
The long kitchen island, which had been a graveyard of empty bottles and overflowing ashtrays just hours ago, was now transformed.
It was a feast. A buffet of breakfast foods was sprawled out before me: platters of crispy bacon and sausage, a mountain of fluffy scrambled eggs, a dish holding golden-brown hash browns, a bowl of glistening cut fruits, and a basket overflowing with assorted pastries and muffins, still warm and steaming from the oven.
The smell of it all filled the air, making my stomach rumble loudly.
I looked around, my mind trying to catch up. Maybe Callan, in some gesture of gratitude, had arranged this for the cleaning crew? It seemed excessive, even for him. Just then, Francine appeared from the pantry. She saw me standing there, gaping, and a bright, knowing smile lit up her face.
“Good morning,” she said, her voice warm. She gestured toward the island. “Sit, eat. Callan will be with you in a minute.”
My heart did a little flutter at his name. I let my gaze sweep over the spread again, taking in all the effort and care that had been put in it. “Did you do all this, Francine?” I asked.
“Yes, dear,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron as if it were the most normal thing in the world to whip up a gourmet breakfast for two on a random Monday morning.
Shit…I missed classes.
I shook my head, deciding not to care about showing up for once. A wave of emotion washed over me. This wasn’t something to be taken for granted, not in my world, and certainly not in his. “This is amazing,” I said, my voice filled with sincerity. “Thank you. Really.”
I pulled out one of the stools at the island and sat down. I looked up at her with a genuine smile on my face. “Join me?”
“Oh, no, sweetheart,” she said, her expression softening with a gentle, maternal affection. “I’m working. You two enjoy.” She gave me a final, encouraging wink before turning to tend to the coffee machine, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I pursed my lips and swallowed down a heavy sigh. It was a strange feeling, being taken care of like this.
Just as I was reaching for the scrambled eggs, I heard footsteps behind me.
I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.
I could feel his presence. He came to stand beside me, his bare arm brushing against my shoulder.
He’d put on a pair of sweatpants that hung on his hips, but he was shirtless, showing off every crease of every muscle.
He smelled of soap and mint, having clearly showered while I slept.
“Morning,” he said, his voice low.
“Morning,” I replied, tilting my head back to look at him.
He saw it as an invitation and leaned down to press a soft kiss to my lips.
He straightened up and grabbed a plate from the stack, moving to sit beside me as he loaded it with food.
His knee pressed against mine under the counter.
We ate in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, the only sounds being the clinking of our forks against the plates and Francine quietly bustling around in the background.
This was new to me. Eating breakfast with Callan and having it feel so… normal.
“Not hungry?” he asked finally, breaking the silence. He took a sip of his coffee, his eyes watching me over the rim of the mug. I had only had a few bites of the eggs, too overwhelmed by all the food.
“Starving, actually” I admitted, taking a bigger bite of the eggs. I swallowed, then added, “This is a lot, Callan.”
He shrugged casually. “I figured you’d be hungry after last night.” A slow, wicked grin spread across his face. “You burned a lot of calories.”
I felt the blush creep up my neck again. I rolled my eyes. “You’re terrible.”
He chuckled. “I just wanted to take care of you this morning,” he said, his voice dropping to a more serious, sincere tone. “Is that okay?”
I looked up to his face, studying him closely. The walls I’d so carefully built around my heart felt like they were crumbling once again, and for the first time, it felt like that was okay. “Yeah,” I said softly. “It’s more than okay.”
I picked up a slice of bacon, then looked over the rest of the spread. There was no way the two of us could finish even half of it. It looked like a full hotel buffet.
“We won’t be able to eat all this,” I said.
He glanced at the food, then back at me. “The rest won’t go to waste. The cleaning staff can eat whatever we don’t touch,” he said. “They’re here all morning. They’ll clear everything anyway. They might as well get a real breakfast.”
Good. I would’ve suggested that if he thought throwing it all away was a better idea.
“That’s nice of you.”
He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “They work hard. They should eat.”
I agreed, and it showed once again that he cared about others.