Forty-Two
forty-two
EVERYTHING YOU WANT - VERTICAL HORIZON
OWEN - JULY 20, 2013
I lean over Callie and my fingers brush a stray strand of hair from her face. The taste of her still lingers on my lips, the sweetness of her skin and the way she responded to my touch etched into my memory. I’m not ready to leave this moment, but if I don’t stop now, I’m never going to stop and I don’t want to fuck this up with her. I don’t want to be just another fuck for her. Because she’s not just another fuck for me.
She looks up at me with a lazy, satisfied smile, her eyes still sparkling from our time together. “So, how do you like your eggs?” I ask as if I didn’t just have my head buried between her legs moments ago.
“Surprise me,” she teases, slipping her black panties back on her voice a bit raspier than normal.
“Surprise you, huh?” I reply, raising an eyebrow. “I think I can manage that.”
I kiss her forehead quickly before heading to the kitchen, my mind still reeling from everything we shared. The taste of her, the way she responded to me, it’s all still fresh in my mind, making it hard to focus on anything else.
Stepping into the kitchen, I realize how bare it is. Not much to work with, but I’ll make it work—eggs, some leftover veggies, and bread for peanut butter toast. Simple, but it'll have to do.
The eggs sizzle as they hit the pan, and I start chopping veggies, letting my thoughts wander. Last night and this morning–it’s more than I ever expected. I can’t help but wish I’d given her a chance sooner, instead of letting distance be my excuse. I didn’t consider the fact that it could work with the right person. For the right person–I could make the effort.
The way she tasted, the way we connected, it’s more than I ever could have hoped for. But as perfect as it all feels, there’s still a part of me that’s a little nervous. I want this to work so badly, and I know there’s a lot riding on how we navigate the next steps.
I should’ve offered to take her out for breakfast, but selfishly, I wanted to keep her here, in my bed, for as long as I could.
As I finish cooking, I hear the soft padding of her footsteps behind me. I turn, and there she is, walking into the kitchen with a sleepy smile, her hair still tousled from bed and my Darling Ridge Farms t-shirt back on.
“It smells too good in here. I couldn’t stay in bed–I had to see what you were up to,” she says, taking a seat at the counter, her eyes bright with curiosity.
I chuckle, turning back to the stove. “Just whipping up something simple. It’s not much, I’m sorry. I really need to get to the grocery store. But I’ve been so busy and just eating out lately.”
“Yeah, you have,” she teases, winking. The blush creeping up her neck says enough—she definitely enjoyed herself this morning.
I spread a generous layer of peanut butter on the toast and it melts slightly, creating the perfect creamy texture. I plate the food, adding a few fresh strawberries for a touch of sweetness, and set everything in front of her.
“This looks amazing,” she says, eyeing the plate full of food.
“I could say the same about you,” I reply, setting a napkin and silverware next to the plate in front of her.
After a few bites, Callie pauses, looking over at me with a grin. “Hey, do you have any cinnamon sugar?”
I raise an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across my face. “I thought I told you I don’t give my cinnamon away for free.”
Callie laughs, leaning in a little closer. “I know you said that, but I was wondering if I could steal some? I bet it tastes so good, Owen.” She winks at me again, and I can’t help but chuckle at the level of pure sex in her voice.
This. Fucking. Girl.
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” I say, reaching over to the small spice rack on the counter. I hand it to her with a grin. “I suppose I can make an exception this time.”
She takes the cinnamon sugar, sprinkling a little over her toast before taking another bite. “Mmm, you were right,” she says, licking a bit of sugar from her lips. “It really does taste amazing.”
The way she says it, the way she looks at me–it sends a rush of warmth through me, and I realize how much I want this, how much I want her to be part of my life. And how much I hope to be a part of hers.
As we finish eating, I set my plate aside, feeling a slight nervousness creep in. I take a deep breath, knowing it’s time to ask her about meeting my family this weekend while some of my cousins are in town for the county fair.
“So, Callie,” I start, trying to keep my tone casual, “there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
She looks up at me, curiosity and mild concern in her eyes. “What’s up?”
“Well, some of my cousins are going to be in town this weekend and they are going out on Friday night. I was wondering if you’d like to come with me. It’s a big family thing, and I’d really like you to be there.”
Her eyes widen in surprise, but then she smiles, that warm, genuine smile that always makes my heart beat a little faster. “A good ol’ family reunion, huh? I would love to go. It means a lot that you want me to be there.”
Relief washes over me, and I squeeze her hand, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. “That’s great. I’m really glad you’re up for it. Sabrina asked if she could have Barrett for an extra week to take him to Gulf Shores for vacation, so he’ll be gone this week and next. I need plenty of stuff to keep myself busy. When he returns, I will have him for two weeks, and I was hoping maybe we could get the kids together then.”
“That sounds perfect,” she says, her eyes excitedly bright. Then she hesitates for a moment, her fingers idly playing with the edge of the napkin. “But… I have one condition.”
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what’s that?”
“If I go to see your cousins in Cedar Bluff on Friday, you have to come to Hawkridge for the Halestorm concert Saturday night.”
I blink in surprise, then laugh softly. “The Halestorm concert?”
“Yep,” she nods, her eyes sparkling. “I’ve been dying to go, and I think it’d be even more fun with you there. Besides, it’s only fair–family time for you, and a concert for me. ”
I can’t help but grin. “So, if I agree to go to a concert with you, you’ll come to a bar with me on Friday night and deal with my drunk cousins while you’re sober?”
She shrugs, her expression playful. “That’s the deal.”
“Deal,” I say, reaching out to shake her hand, though I can’t resist pulling her closer for a quick kiss instead. “I think I’m getting the better end of this bargain, though.”
“Oh, trust me,” she whispers against my lips, her eyes twinkling, “I think we both win.”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“Because after the concert... that'll be our third date,” she teases, giving me a knowing wink.
I lean in and kiss her again, feeling the truth of her words in the way she holds me close. This is a big step for us, but it feels right–like we’re moving in the direction we’re meant to go.
When the kiss breaks, we stay close, foreheads touching as we both take a moment to catch our breath. Her fingers trace lazy patterns on the back of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.
“You know,” I murmur, brushing my lips against her temple, “if this third date goes the way I’m hoping, we might need to find a way to sneak out of that concert early.”
I capture her lips with mine again, the kiss deepening as she wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer. The warmth of her body pressed against mine is intoxicating, and for a moment, I lose myself completely in her–her taste, her scent, the way she feels in my arms. It’s like everything else fades away, leaving just us in this perfect moment. Her taste is so deliciously sweet it makes me delirious.
When we finally pull apart, both of us are breathless, our foreheads still touching. I can see the same mix of desire and contentment in her eyes that I’m feeling, and it makes my heart swell.
“Maybe we should finish breakfast before we get too carried away,” she whispers, her lips brushing mine as she speaks.
“Probably a good idea,” I agree, though my body protests the idea of pulling away from her. I reluctantly step back, giving us both a moment to catch our breath.
We fall into an easy rhythm as we finish our breakfast, the conversation flowing naturally between us. It’s like all the barriers that once stood between us have finally crumbled, leaving us free to explore whatever this is–whatever we’re becoming.
After we finish eating, I clear the plates and start rinsing them off in the sink. Callie joins me, drying each dish as I hand it to her. It’s a simple, domestic moment, but it feels like something more–like a glimpse of what our lives could be like together.
As we work side by side, I can’t help but imagine more mornings like this. More shared breakfasts, more laughter, more kisses that leave us both breathless. It’s a future that I never dared to hope for, but now that it’s within reach, I want it more than anything.
When the last dish is put away, Callie turns to me, her eyes soft and full of emotion. “Owen, I… I really appreciate this. Everything. I know it’s still new, and there’s a lot to figure out, but… I’m really glad we’re doing this.”
I reach out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m glad too, Callie. And we’ll figure it out. Together.”
She nods, a small hopeful smile playing on her lips. “Together,” she echoes.
The sun sinks low in the sky, casting long shadows over the fields. The farm is quiet, the soft rustle of corn in the breeze and the steady hum of crickets the only sounds. I’ve been here before. It’s the same dream—the one that slips through my fingers every time I try to grasp it.
I stand at the edge of the field, the air heavy with anticipation. The old barn looms ahead, bathed in the fading glow of dusk, and beyond it, Uncle Teddy’s farmhouse—a place that once felt like home, now distant, unreachable. Since his death, I’ve never made it to the house in these dreams. Every time I get close, I wake up.
But tonight, something is different. There’s a pull, a sense of urgency I’ve never felt before, drawing me deeper into the field. The sky darkens, purple and blue washing over the landscape, and my heartbeat quickens as the barn comes into sharper focus. My gaze sweeps the horizon, searching for her—the girl with the emerald and amethyst eyes. The one who’s always just out of reach, her face blurred by the waking world.
Then, I see her.
Standing near the barn, her back to me, her dark hair catching the last of the light. My chest tightens. I quicken my pace, desperate to reach her, to finally see her face. I call out, my voice raw with need, and she turns, slow and deliberate, her movements like a ripple in time.
Her eyes meet mine, and everything else fades away. The farm, the barn, the world—all of it dissolves into the background.
It’s Callie.
A wave of recognition crashes over me, knocking the breath from my lungs. How could I not have known? All this time, she’s been here—in my dreams, haunting me with those eyes. But it’s not just recognition. It’s deeper. It’s always been her.
She steps forward, her gaze locked on mine, her voice soft, almost like a whisper carried on the wind. “Owen.” There’s relief in her tone, but something else, too. Longing, maybe. As if she’s been waiting for me, just as I’ve been searching for her.
“You found me.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, and the realization settles deep in my chest. This girl, the one I’ve been chasing for so long—it’s always been Callie. My heart pounds, a mix of disbelief and certainty filling the space between us.
I move toward her, faster now, drawn to her like gravity. She smiles—warm and genuine, the kind of smile that makes everything else fall away. “I’ve been waiting for you,” she says, her voice carrying the weight of something unspoken.
She’s holding the small, ornate box. Its intricate symbols shimmer faintly in the dim light, just beyond my understanding. She extends it to me, and as our fingers brush, warmth radiates through me, grounding me in the moment. The connection between us hums, stronger than ever.
I open the box, knowing what I’ll find inside—the photograph. But this time, the image is clearer. It’s a family—a man, a woman, and their children, standing together in front of a house. The man is an older version of me, and the woman is Callie, unmistakably her. We’re smiling, a sense of peace and happiness written across our faces.
I stare at the picture, my throat tightening as I take in the sight of two little girls and a boy. The boy looks just like me when I was younger, but I know it isn’t me. “Barrett,” I whisper. My heart lurches as I recognize the older girl—Sara. And the tiny blonde, barely standing on her own... she’s ours.
A tear slips from my eye and falls onto the photograph, blurring the image for a moment. When I look back at Callie, I know. This is the answer I’ve been waiting for.
It’s always been her.
When I wake up Thursday morning, my chest feels heavy with the weight of the dream. Callie is miles away in Hawkridge, and the distance feels unbearable. I want to call her, to tell her everything, but how do you explain something like that? How do you put into words a dream that feels like fate?
Instead, I send a simple text:
Me:
Good morning, dollface. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.
As I set the phone down, the memory of the dream lingers, refusing to fade. This isn’t just a connection. It’s something bigger—something that’s been pulling us together long before we even met. And now that I know... now that I’m sure... I know I’ll never be able to let her go.