Chapter 39 #2
Callan paid the bill and then carried the bags of leftovers back to the car.
He didn’t talk much on the drive. He just kept one hand on the wheel and the other relaxed on his thigh, and every so often he glanced over, checking on me without turning it into a conversation I didn’t want to have.
I was grateful for the silence and the fact that he didn’t try to fill it with unnecessary and forced talk.
When we pulled up to Holland’s building, he parked in front and shut off the engine.
We both got out and walked into the building.
I rang the bell at her door, and Holland practically yanked it open before the sound finished.
She wrapped her arms around me and held me tight for a moment, and I hugged her back, leaning into her comforting embrace.
“How are you, girly?” she asked as she pulled back slightly.
“Better,” I replied, pressing my lips together. She had no idea what happened last night after she left, but I would tell her once I was ready to talk about it.
She smiled at me and then looked at Callan, greeting him before stepping aside to let us in. The door didn’t shut behind us, and Callan stepped around me with his gaze fixed on Holland’s couch. Rocco was sprawled across it with one arm over his eyes and wearing nothing but a pair of briefs.
“Rocco, get dressed,” Callan ordered.
He lifted his head and grinned at us. “Morning.”
“Come on, get dressed,” he said again. “Let’s give them some space.”
Rocco groaned but pushed himself up, mumbling something under his breath as he stumbled to put his clothes on.
While he did, Callan turned to me, brushing his thumb over my wrist for a quick moment.
“I’ll be back later. I’m going to take care of the mess in the kitchen,” he said. “Call me if you need anything.”
I nodded once, giving him my most sincere smile. “Thank you.”
He pressed a kiss to my temple, then urged Rocco to head out. He did, but not before grabbing Holland’s face with both hands and kissing her with his tongue pushed deep down her throat. Openly and without a single ounce of shame.
Callan cleared his throat, and when Rocco broke the kiss, he smirked at Holland and whispered something to her.
She rolled her eyes, then pushed him away from her. “We’re having a girls’ day. Don’t come back before it’s dark. Either of you.”
I liked that. Even if I would miss Callan, the idea of spending a day alone with Holland sounded nice.
She turned to me once the door clicked shut, and she smiled gently, reaching out to rub my arm. “Sit, I’m just going to make coffee. Do you want one?”
“No, thank you,” I replied, smiling back at her. I went over to the couch and stopped, unsure if I wanted to sit down where they had sex just hours before.
“Don’t worry,” Holland said, laughing a little. “We didn’t do it there.”
I looked over at her and pursed my lips.
“What, you don’t believe me?” She grinned and pointed toward her bedroom. “We did it over there. On the bed, in every possible position. We just hung out on the couch after taking a shower. The couch is clean. I promise.”
I studied the couch again, then decided to trust her before I sat down. I pulled my knees under me, getting as comfortable as possible. Holland followed with a cup of steaming coffee, sitting down right beside me. She was close enough that our shoulders touched, but I didn’t mind it one bit.
She watched me without saying a word, just letting me settle and choose when to speak. I wanted to tell her about last night, about what went down after she and Rocco had left in the morning, thinking everything was fine again. But I decided against it, wanting to keep the mood light.
“You and Rocco…” I started, picking at the fabric of my jeans. “Are you two still just sleeping together?”
“Oh, yeah. Totally.” She lifted the cup to her lips and took a careful sip. “You know I can’t be tied down. I’m in my prime.”
I laughed softly. “I can tell.”
“Isn’t it just so amusing that we’re both fucking porn stars, who also happen to be best friends?”
It was a bit comedic. But contrary to their relationship, Callan and mine was more serious. “It’s a little funny,” I admitted.
“What about you and Callan?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. “Has he finally confessed his undying love for you?”
I froze and dropped my gaze to my hands. Here we go…
“Oh my god, he totally did!” She turned more toward me with a wide grin. “When? How? Did you say it back?”
I pressed my lips together and scrunched my nose, trying to figure out how to tell her about the mess that was last night. “I…didn’t say it back, no.”
She gasped. “Lana, but you—”
“I do.” I looked at her again and smiled gently. “I do love him. But I couldn’t say it.”
She studied me closely as I struggled to find the right words. I took a slow breath and gathered the fragments of the night into a coherent story. “Last night was bad,” I said quietly.
This time, it was she who froze. Her posture, which had been relaxed, became instantly rigid. Her eyes sharpened and locked on mine. “What do you mean? What happened?”
I swallowed. “My mom came by last night. Callan and I had dinner and I thought that things would finally stop being so…intense. That all the pain was finally, slowly going away. But then she showed up and started screaming.”
“Lana.” Holland sighed, putting her coffee on the table in front of us before reaching for my hands. “I’m so sorry.”
I gave a little shrug. She had no fault in this, and the only person I wanted an apology from was my mother. But I knew that would never come. “She, uh…she slapped me.” Saying it out loud made the stinging on my face come back.
A string of curses left Holland’s lips under her breath. It was a raw reaction that showed just how shocked she was. “What a bitch. Lana, are you okay?”
I nodded quickly. “Yes, I’m fine. Callan protected me. But I ran out and just left him there. She trashed the kitchen. Threw things everywhere. I just feel so bad leaving him there, and for not saying it back.”
Holland’s jaw was clenched so tightly I could see the muscle flexing in her cheek.
“Okay, first of all, you don’t have to feel bad for running away from someone who hits you.
You do whatever you need to do to feel safe.
Second, what the hell is wrong with her?
And third, Callan. What did he do after you left? ”
“He came and found me,” I said, my voice softening at the memory. “At the observatory. He knew I’d be there, and that’s where he told me he loved me. He took me home and he told me he had the police take her away.”
Holland squeezed my hands, her anger slowly being replaced by a fierce protectiveness.
“Okay. So, let me get this straight. You get attacked by your mother, you run away, the man you love finds you, tells you he loves you in your favorite place on earth, takes care of you, gets rid of your psychotic mother, and you think you’re the one who messed up by not saying it back? ”
I winced at her blunt summary. “When you put it like that…”
“No, Lana, listen to me,” she said, her tone serious but gentle.
“You have been through a trauma. Not just the past two nights, but all your life because of her. Your brain is not working right now. It’s in survival mode.
You can’t be expected to process a declaration of love when you’re busy processing the fact that your own mother hit you.
That’s not fair to you. Callan knows that.
The fact that he didn’t push you, the fact that he just said it and let it be, proves it.
He’s not expecting anything from you. He’s just giving you what he has, which is his love and his support.
You’re not rejecting him by not saying it back.
It’s you protecting your own heart until it’s safe enough to come out again. ”
I had never heard her say something so poetic, and while my first instinct was to laugh, I kept it inside and just leaned into her. “Thank you.”
“Now,” she said, wrapping her arms around me. “We’re not going to talk about this for the rest of the day. We’re not going to think about your mother, or the video, or Callan, or anything that causes you stress. Today, you’ll focus on recovery and mind-numbing distraction.”
She moved and reached for the remote on the coffee table, turning on the TV.
“I’m thinking we start with something stupid and funny.
No romance, no drama, no emotional anything.
Just explosions and bad one-liners.” She opened one of her many streaming services and flipped through the catalogue until she landed on John Wick. “Keanu Reeves always helps.”
I agreed. I liked Keanu.
“We’ll watch all four movies, and after that, we’ll move on to a cartoon. And when we get hungry, we’ll order so much food your stomach will explode.”
“I had a big breakfast,” I told her, pursing my lips.
“I don’t care. You’ll be hungry watching Mr. Reeves go on a killing spree to get revenge for his puppy’s murder.”
I laughed softly. “Okay, fine.”
“Good. Now, get ready to watch movies until our brains turn to mush and we forget what day it is.”