Chapter 35

Callan

Holland took Lana upstairs after we finished breakfast, and I stayed in the kitchen with Rocco, cleaning up the mess Holland had left behind.

There were pans stacked in the sink, coffee splatters on the counter, and a trail of flour on the floor that I still wasn’t sure how it got there.

The waffles weren’t made by her because she had heated up frozen ones in the toaster.

I grabbed a rag and started wiping down the surfaces while Rocco rinsed the plates.

“I swear,” he said as he shook his head at the mountain of dishes, “that woman has never once felt the need to clean up after herself. Not a single time. It’s almost impressive.

” He stacked two plates together and smirked.

“It’s kind of cute though. She acts like a brat, but she’s the sweetest when she actually wants to be. ”

I glanced over at him, not missing the shift in his voice. “You realize you just said that like a man who’s halfway in love, right?”

He jerked his head up. “In love?” He laughed as if the idea was ridiculous. “Come on. We’re just hooking up. That’s it. We have fun. We…you know.” He waved a soapy hand at me. “I want to keep her around, sure, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

“You’ve contradicted yourself three times in less than a minute.”

“No, I haven’t.”

I gave him a look. “You literally said you ‘want to keep her.’”

He opened his mouth, paused, then pointed a wet finger at me. “Context matters.”

“Right,” I said, turning back to the counter. “Context.”

He shut off the sink and leaned his hip against it. “I mean, she’s fun. She makes me laugh. She’s hot. Gives the best head. But I’m not a relationship guy. That’s the whole point. I don’t do the serious stuff.”

I let that sit for a second, then chuckled under my breath. “That’ll change.”

He scoffed. “Never.”

“Happened to me.” Admitting it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I hadn’t even told Lana about my feelings for her, but the idea of that made me more nervous than admitting it to the guy who had only ever known me as a forever bachelor.

“That’s different,” he shot back, rolling his eyes.

“How so?” I asked as I picked up a bowl and set it in the drying rack.

“Oh, come on,” he said. “You’ve pretended all your life you’re not a relationship guy but we both knew someday someone would come into your life and knock you on your ass emotionally. That happened, and now you’re all structured and monogamous and loyal. You were always built like that.”

I looked at him and raised a brow. “That’s a lot of psychology for someone who claims he’s not thinking about a girl.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “I’m not. I’m talking about you.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“I’m not deflecting,” he said, but the way he reached for a towel instead of looking me in the eye told me exactly what he was doing.

I dried my hands and leaned on the counter beside him. “She’s good. She’s better than you give her credit for. She’s been protective of Lana all this time. That’s not something she fakes. That’s who she is.”

He paused for a split second. “Yeah…well,” he muttered. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Whatever you say.”

He shot me an annoyed look. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“That tone.”

“I haven’t said anything.”

“You don’t have to. You’re judging me.”

“I’m not judging you,” I said, holding back a laugh. “I’m just waiting for you to admit something you already know.”

He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Man. You’re annoying.”

“Just think about it,” I said quietly.

He frowned as if the idea physically pained him. “I’m not thinking about anything right now.”

“Right.”

He nodded and stayed quiet for a moment, dropping the towel on the counter. “But…she’s pretty great.”

The admission slipped out before he could stop it, and he winced like words physically pained him. I didn’t say anything this time. I didn’t have to.

Later that day, I didn’t feel like hosting Rocco and Holland anymore.

Their quiet support had helped earlier, but now, it felt like their presence was pressing in on Lana.

Even though I knew her best friend’s support was what kept her mind from negative thoughts, I wanted her to get some rest. As selfish as I was, I told them both to leave.

Rocco was the first to head out. He gave my shoulder a firm pat and said, “Call me if you need anything.” Then he slipped out of the front door without another word.

Holland stayed behind a little longer. She hovered near Lana, her posture stiff with worry, and her eyes moving between us like she was trying to decide if she could trust me to handle this. She kept shifting her weight, clearly not ready to leave.

“I don’t know, Callan,” she said with a skeptical look on her face. “I don’t think she should be alone right now.”

“She won’t be,” I told her. I looked at Lana who stood next to her with her arms crossed over her stomach protectively. Her eyes looked empty, but she was trying her best to look alive. “I’m right here, and I won’t leave. But she needs some rest.”

Holland studied me, trying to see if I truly meant it.

When she seemed satisfied enough, she nodded once.

She turned to Lana and whispered something I couldn’t hear.

Lana nodded, but her expression didn’t change.

The sadness in her eyes stayed. Holland gave her a long, tight hug before finally pulling back.

She shot me one last look, silently warning yet trusting me, then she headed out.

When the front door shut, Lana slowly turned toward me with her fingers twisting in her shirt.

She stood there for a few seconds, her shoulders tight, and I stayed where I was, a few feet away from her.

I kept my hands in my sweatpants’ pockets.

I didn’t want to overwhelm her. I wanted her to come to me because she wanted to, not because she felt pressured.

She lifted her eyes just long enough to meet mine before dropping them again.

I could see how tired she was. The weight of everything still lingered on her face.

Even now that I had handled it, she was still worried, and I hated seeing her like that.

Her chest rose and fell slowly, and she swallowed hard like she had just made a decision that cost her a lot of strength.

She took one small step forward, then paused, then took another.

Her fingers kept fidgeting as she kept moving closer.

I continued to watch her, my own fingers twitching with the need to reach out for her.

But I stayed perfectly still, giving her all the control.

She stopped halfway between us, and when she looked at me again, something shifted in her expression. The fear didn’t disappear, but it loosened. The tension in her shoulders eased just a little. She let go of her shirt, letting her hands fall at her sides.

Then she took the last few steps, closing the gap as her arms slid around my waist. She pressed herself against me with more force than I expected.

I pulled my hands from my pockets and wrapped them around her, holding her close.

She didn’t cry, but I felt the faint tremor in her body.

She was exhausted, and she held on like I was the only thing to keep her steady.

I tightened my hold as much as she needed, and we stayed like that without speaking.

Her cheek rested against my chest. I lowered my chin, letting it rest lightly against the top of her head.

I didn’t say anything. She didn’t need words from me right now.

She just needed me to stand there and hold her.

I rubbed her back gently, letting her know that I was right there in exactly the way she needed me.

My hands moved up and down the length of her spine.

Her arms tightened around me, silently pleading for a deeper sense of security.

I responded by lifting one hand from her back to her head, my palm cupping the side of it, and my fingers gently brushing through her hair.

I could feel the change in her almost immediately. The shallow breaths she had been taking since she walked into the foyer started to deepen until they were steady like my own.

When she shifted on her feet, turning her head slightly, I looked down to meet her eyes. I smiled gently, admiring her bare face and each little freckle scattered across her skin. Her eyes were wide as she watched me, with many different thoughts and emotions flashing through them.

When the silence continued, I leaned in closer and pressed a soft kiss to the tip of her nose. Then I rubbed the tip of my nose against hers. “What can I do for you, sweet girl?” I whispered, keeping my voice low. “Whatever you need…just let me know.”

She closed her eyes at my words and took in a deep breath. Her body melted further against mine. Her cheek came to rest on my chest again, and I kissed the top of her head, with my fingers sliding deeper into her hair.

“Anything,” I whispered again. “Tell me what you need, Lana. I’ll do anything.”

She stayed quiet for a long moment, and I waited, giving her the space to find the words. Finally, she whispered, “Take me to bed and hold me.”

My heart clenched in my chest. Weeks ago, and with any other woman, my brain would’ve gone straight to sex.

But hers wasn’t a request for that. It was a request for comfort, and for the simple act of being held and protected.

It was the most vulnerable thing she could have asked for, and I would move heaven and earth to give it to her.

“Okay,” I said softly. I pulled back just enough to look at her, and I took her hand in mine, my fingers lacing through hers. Then I led her up the stairs, and toward her bedroom.

I guided her into the room and to the bed, pulling back the duvet for her.

She slid in without a word. I followed, lying down beside her and pulling the covers up over us both.

She immediately turned into me, her head finding its place on my chest, her arm draping over my waist. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her flush against me, with one hand resting on her back, and the other stroking her hair.

With her in my arms, I knew that this was where I was meant to be.

As much as my past self would’ve denied wanting this, this was what I was meant to do.

I was her protector, her safe place, her home.

And I would hold her for as long as she needed me.

For as long as it took for the world to feel right again.

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