Chapter 20
TWENTY
Birdie
“Two cappuccinos and a basket of fresh croissants,” our server mumbles to herself as she writes down our order. “That’ll be right out.”
“Thank you,” Callum and I both say at the same time before she spins around and disappears into the kitchen.
When I suggested we meet for coffee at Sandy Spoon Café, I had no idea how small and intimate this place would be. If I had to guess, it’s no bigger than my one-bedroom apartment, which isn't saying much at all. White shiplap covers the walls, pairing perfectly with the glossy hardwood floors.
Industrial lights hang above the coffee bar, which I’ve deduced must be for decoration purposes only, considering that they’re not turned on. It appears, much to my pleasure, that the owners opted for the rays of sunshine pouring through the large windows to act as the only light in the space.
I get why this place is so popular. It’s the blueprint for a modern-day, coastal coffee shop.
Once again, Callum arrived ahead of time this morning and snagged us a table. I didn’t ask him how early he got here because I’m sure it was at least an hour before. He must have known how busy this place gets because there’s currently a line of customers leading out of the door.
When I walked into the café ten minutes before nine, he was already seated at a round table, just big enough for two. Just like he promised, he was waiting for me in his jeans and T-shirt.
It was nearly impossible to keep a neutral expression as my heart fluttered and my skin tingled with awareness. He never fails to take my breath away. He could equally bring me to my knees in an Armani suit or dressed in a stained T-shirt with tattered jeans.
His onyx hair and the stubble on his cheeks have grown longer since I saw him last.
I shake my head, pushing away the thought because I may or may not have dreamed of how that scruff would feel scratching the skin between my legs.
What’s a girl supposed to do? I can’t control the filthy fantasies that my brain thinks up in my sleep. And I definitely can’t control the blush burning my cheeks as I sit across from Callum.
He furrows his brows, noticing my discomfort as he slides his glasses down his nose and discards them onto the table.
Holy hell. Those damn glasses.
They have no right to look so fucking sexy on him.
The frames are midnight black, matching the color of his thick curls. And when he has them on, they accentuate his blue eyes, making them look like sapphire marbles. He already has the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen on a man, which is why I can’t handle these new glasses on top of that. It’s bending my self-control .
“You okay?” he asks.
I clear my throat, trying to pull myself back to reality.
“Yeah,” I recover. “It’s just weird seeing you with glasses. When did you start wearing them?”
“Oh,” he chuckles. “You were staring at me like you had seen a ghost or something. I got worried there for a second.”
Little does he know that I’m the one who should be worrying. I’m over here in my own little world, swooning over how goddamn hot he looks this morning. I turn into a puddle when it comes to this man.
“My vision started getting blurry a few years ago,” he continues. “So I went to the eye doctor and found out that I’m farsighted. I really only need my glasses when I’m working or trying to read something close up.”
He points down to the laminated menu on the table. I have to admit, the print is almost too small for me to read, and I have perfect vision.
“Right,” I nod. “I’m surprised you even had to look at the menu. It sounds like you’ve been here more than once.”
“I have. I come here at least once a week, but usually just to get coffee.” He pauses to think. “Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever ordered food here. The coffee is great, though. Probably the best in town.”
“Well, I’m hoping the croissants are just as good… Because I’m starving.”
“Me too,” he concurs, nodding his head. “I normally don’t eat breakfast, but the smell in here has me salivating.”
“It doesn't help that we’re sitting right next to the kitchen,” I scoff, jerking my head toward the steel doors where servers are shuffling through.
“That’s true,” he chuckles. “At least we got a table. This place is fucking packed. ”
The space between us falls silent as Callum clasps his hands together and taps one thumb on top of the other.
For the first time since our run-in at the grocery store, we have the opportunity to just talk. To have a mundane conversation. The problem is that I don’t think either of us knows where to start.
“Thank you,” I mutter, breaking the quiet spell, “for getting here early and saving us a table. I really appreciate it.”
“Of course,” he smiles. “Thank you for asking me to coffee. I can’t lie; I was starting to lose my damn mind after not hearing from you for almost two weeks. I thought I might have to track you down again.”
A wolfish grin curves his lips. I can’t help but mimic his smile.
“Oh really?” I arch a brow. “You would have resorted back to your stalker ways?”
He shrugs.
“I was hoping I wouldn't have to. But for you, Birdie Wren, I would do just about anything.”
Damn him.
He knows what it does to me when he uses my first and middle name in the same sentence. My pulse picks up speed as the muscles in my core tighten.
I try to speak but can’t find the words as a wave of heat rolls from my head down to my toes. Before I begin to word vomit, I’m saved by our server walking up to our table.
“Breakfast is served,” she smiles before placing our cappuccinos in front of us and a basket of croissants in the middle of the table. Steam rises off the golden pastries, looking absolutely mouth-watering.
“Wow,” Callum’s brows lift. “That was fast.”
“Yup,” our server proudly nods. “They’re our most popular item on the menu, so we always have plenty hot and ready to serve.”
“Well, they look delicious,” Callum replies. “Can’t wait to dig in.”
“They are definitely worth the extra calories, I’ll say that,” she chuckles. “You two enjoy. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be around.”
When she turns to walk away, Callum and I waste no time dipping our fingers into the basket. My skin tingles when his fingers brush against mine as we both pull out a croissant. It’s the faintest of touches, but it feels like fire against my skin. By the way that Callum’s throat is bobbing, I can tell that the touch affected him too.
Trying to avoid the adrenaline coursing through our veins, we take a bite at the same time.
The instant the buttery croissant hits my tastebuds, I’m reminded of how hungry I am. All I can think about is how flaky and divine this pastry is.
I could never be one of those people who willingly gives up carbs. It’s like an instant dopamine hit when I even think about bread.
“ Damn ,” Callum hums between chews. “These are fucking amazing.”
“ Mmhmm ,” I agree, struggling to keep my lips closed with a mouth full of food.
Callum swallows down half a croissant before reaching for his coffee and taking a sip. I can’t help but study the way his Adam’s apple bobs as the liquid slides down his throat.
When he sets his mug back down on the table, his lips turn up in a coy grin. His eyes roam down my chest before landing on the mug resting between my hands. I feel him everywhere as he slowly returns his gaze to my face .
He’s shamelessly admiring me as if I’m the only one in the coffee shop, setting my insides ablaze.
“Cute scrubs,” he remarks.
God.
I hate his velvety voice. I despise how it sounds like it has little pieces of gravel in it.
I hate it because I can barely pay attention to his words when they sound so sultry and seductive.
I look down at my lilac scrubs before shooting daggers across the table and making my own assessment of his clothes. The man really needs a lint roller.
I fold my arms over my chest before dawning a smirk.
“I may have on baggy scrubs, but at least I don’t have cat hair all over me,” I joke, flicking my eyes down to his T-shirt spattered with short, white hair.
His face pales as he quickly directs his gaze downward.
“Oh, shit,” he huffs. “I meant to throw on a different shirt before I left the house. I got into a wrestling match with Ollie this morning.” He laughs and shakes his head.
I furrow my brows.
“Ollie?”
“My dog,” he clarifies. “It’s dog hair. Ollie sheds like a motherfucker. I swear, I can’t even pet him without getting covered in fur.”
Fuck me.
Glasses, and now a dog?
I can’t handle the excessive display of hotness I’m being exposed to this morning.
“And for the record,” he continues, “I’m not being sarcastic. I really do like your scrubs. You look hot in them. I never knew I had a thing for nurses until I saw you in that,” he says huskily while rolling his ocean eyes down my body. “They suit you well, Birdie. ”
He’s making it harder and harder for me to sit still.
I bite my bottom lip and lower my gaze while picking at a croissant.
What am I supposed to say to that? “Thanks for the compliment. And by the way, you look hot as fuck, even covered in dog hair.”
Too afraid that my actual thoughts will come out, I decide to keep the topic of conversation on his pet.
“I didn’t know you had a dog.”
As soon as the words leave my lips, I internally kick myself.
Really Birdie? How would you know? You haven’t spoken to him in years.
Callum arches a sharp brow before crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. I can tell by the amused expression stretching across his face that he’s about to make a smartass comment. My gaze flicks to his arms, ogling over how his corded muscles stretch with each movement.
“Well, I would have told you,” he says smugly. “But I specifically remember someone making it clear that they didn’t care to know if I had a cat or a dog.”
He has a damn good memory.
My words from Captain Ray’s hit me like a freight train.
“Right now, I don’t care about your time in New York or if you have a cat or a dog.”
I clear my throat and straighten my shoulders, trying not to let him see the remorse I feel inside for being so insensitive.
“Ha ha,” I drawl out, my tone full of sarcasm. “If I remember correctly, we had more serious matters to discuss at the time.”
He narrows his eyes, holding my stare while reaching for another croissant.
“Fair,” he mutters before taking a bite. He rips the pastry between his teeth in a way that shouldn’t be as sexy as it is .
“Exactly,” I say, puffing up my chest.
Before I knew what happened to Callum, I had every right to be cold to him. Anyone in my position would have acted the same way. Even though I feel like shit now, I could have never prepared myself for the trauma that Callum experienced. Something as terrible as his father beating him half to death didn’t even cross my mind.
Callum immediately notices when my smile falters. Without needing to ask, he knows where my mind is going. Despite how badly he broke my heart, Callum knows how much it kills me that I wasn’t there for him…that I didn’t try harder to find him when he left.
“You know I’m just messing with you,” he redirects. His tone is playful, clearly wanting to keep the mood light. “Do you have any pets?”
I take a long sip of my coffee before replying.
“I would love to get a dog, but I move around so much for my job. I don’t know… I just feel like my career is so chaotic. I wouldn’t be able to give a pet much attention. And on top of that, they would have to acclimate to a new home each time I move or live with my parents during my contracts.”
He scrunches his brows together in curiosity.
“That makes sense…” he pauses. “But if you don’t mind me asking, why do you move around so much?”
“I don’t mind,” I shake my head. “I’m a travel nurse, so it’s part of the job. Since my contracts span between two to four months, I budget enough to take some time off between assignments. I usually go home to Myrtle Beach and stay with my parents during my breaks.”
His breathing halts at the mention of Myrtle Beach.
A place that was home to him for so long, but also his own personal hell.
Silence passes between us as Callum takes a swig of coffee and regains his composure. My breath quickens as I watch his large hands wrap around the mug, swallowing it whole.
“It’s pretty cool that you get to travel for your job,” he says. “But what made you choose a career where you move around so much? Did you not want to stay in one place?”
I take a moment to think, smoothing out the napkin in my lap before meeting his stare.
“I don’t know…” I sigh. “At first, I took the job because it sounded fun. But the older I get, I think I do it because I’m constantly running. I love Myrtle Beach; it will forever be my home. But if I stay there for too long… I start to feel like I’m drowning in sadness. Everything reminds me of what it used to be.”
My heart thuds against the confines of my chest as I debate my next sentence.
“I…” I trail off. “I can hardly watch a school bus pass by without feeling sick.”
Callum’s entire body seems to go still at my words. His eyes flick between mine, looking like the sea on a cold December day.
Anyone but us would think it’s ridiculous to let something as mundane as a school bus send you into a depressive spiral. But I know that Callum understands exactly what I’m saying. I’m willing to bet he also has to look away when he sees a yellow bus drive by.
“So, when I’ve had my fill of home,” I continue, “I run away to the next city for work. And when my contract is over, and it’s time to come home, I miss that little coastal town with every fiber of my being. It’s become a cycle for me.”
His shoulders slump as he nods in understanding.
“I know exactly what you mean,” he mutters.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he breathes. “After living in New York, I moved here because it reminded me of Myrtle Beach. But it was also a fresh start because it doesn't hold the memories of my father.”
He inhales a shaky breath before continuing.
“It also kept me away from you, where I thought you would be safe. Over the years, I thought about driving back to South Carolina countless times. I just wanted to catch a glimpse of your face and make sure you were okay.”
If he only knew how many nights I dreamed of him coming back to me, only to wake in a puddle of tears.
“You’ve never been back? Not even once?”
“No,” he shakes his head. “And even if I did go back, I couldn’t stomach driving past my old house. I never want to see that hell hole again.”
A rigid ball forms in my throat as I think about what he went through.
“Have you,” I stammer nervously, “spoken to your family since you left for college?”
“I saw them a few years ago,” he answers. “My mom called and invited me to Thanksgiving in Florida. My brother and his wife were flying in, and she wanted a chance to get the whole family together. Honestly, the only reason I went was because my brother was going to be there. I’ve never had much of a relationship with him, so I figured it could be a good start.”
He pushes a hand through his hair and lets out a deep sigh.
“But not even fifteen minutes into Thanksgiving dinner, my father made a snide comment that I couldn't ignore. Instead of staying silent like I did when I was a kid, I told that motherfucker exactly what I thought about him. Everything went to shit after that. I called out his abuse in front of the entire family right before he kicked me out. He called me ungrateful, accused me of lying, and told me I was never welcome in his home again.”
A line forms between my brows as I shake my head. I’ll never be able to comprehend how a human being could be so cold. His father is lucky that Callum has kept me away from him. Because if I ever lay eyes on that worthless excuse of a human, Callum’s going to be putting his law degree to serious work to get me out of prison.
“I don’t know what he said to Grant after I left,” Callum adds, “but I guess my brother ended up believing his story because I haven’t heard from him since. I know that my mom felt terrible; I could see it in the tears rolling down her cheeks. But just like when I was a kid, she didn’t speak up or try to defend me.”
He lets out a scoff, sounding more disappointed than amused.
“That was the last time I saw or spoke to my family. And honestly, I said my piece that day. It was the closure I needed. I don’t plan on reaching out to them ever again.”
Fuck, that breaks my heart. I can’t imagine living a life without the comfort of family.
“I’m so sorry, Callum,” I say, my voice low. “As far as I’m concerned, your brother is a piece of shit for not believing you. I hope you know that this is your family’s loss, not yours. They’re the ones missing out on having you in their lives.”
The corner of his lips curve up in a sad smile at my defense.
God, I love his smile.
“Yeah,” he mutters. “I guess you’re right about that.”
He won’t admit it, but I can tell that he doesn’t want to talk about them anymore. And I don’t blame him at all for that.
“Enough about them,” I wave a hand in front of me. “They don’t deserve our time anyway.”
He flashes me a thankful grin while tapping his thumbs against his mug.
“So, uh…What do you do for fun?” he asks. “What are your hobbies nowadays? ”
“Honestly,” I click my tongue, “not much has changed since high school. I still love to read my sappy, ‘kissing books,’ as you used to call them. But I guess you can say I’ve leveled up now.” Callum raises his brows, and I clarify, “There’s a little more than kissing now.”
He clears his throat. “Is that right?”
“Oh, yeah,” I confirm with a smirk. “Real freaky shit.”
I take a sip of my coffee, holding back a chuckle as Callum continues to eye me over top of the mug.
“Anyways, aside from that,” I continue, “I started baking last year. There’s still a lot of room for improvement, but I’ve gotten better with time.”
Callum’s cheeks turn fire engine red as a sly grin stretches across his face, reaching both of his ears.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he replies, doing a terrible job of keeping his smirk at bay. “I’m just…” He lets out a noise that sounds like a cough and laugh combined.
“Spit it out.”
“I’m just a little hung up on the ‘freaky’ romance books you mentioned. Can we circle back to that?”
I roll my eyes, even though his comment sends electricity straight to my core. Imagining Callum doing things to me like the men in my romance books is not where my mind should be right now.
“I don’t know… That’s getting into dangerous territory,” I tsk. “And besides, I don’t think you really want to know.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because no breathing man can live up to the fictional men I read about. Keep in mind that these men are written by women, which makes them God-tier. Untouchable. ”
His eyes widen.
“Is that right, Birdie Wren? ”
“Yup,” I nod. “They’re too good to be true. Which is why it’s fiction.”
“We’ll see about that,” he retorts before taking another sip of coffee. “I’ll tell you what, next time I see you, bring me one of these books you like to read. I’ll do my homework and get back to you on this assignment.”
Jesus Christ.
I might have to change my underwear before work.
It’s impossible to hide the way my body reacts to his request. His eyes flick down to my neck, darkening as he watches the way my pulse flutters against my delicate skin.
“I can’t promise you that,” I chuckle, brushing off the topic before I combust. “But I will bring you some of my homemade chocolate chip cookies. I think I’ve finally perfected them.”
“I suppose I can compromise with that… For now,” he plays along, even though his smoky voice gives him away. “I mean, who the hell could turn down homemade chocolate chip cookies?”
“Whoever does deserves jail time.”
He laughs at that, showing his pearly whites. He has such a beautiful smile.
“I bet you learned a lot about baking from working at your parents’ coffee shop. I still dream about their blueberry scones.”
“Yeah, they really are the best,” I agree proudly. “Even after twenty-five years in business, they still make everything from scratch.”
“Speaking of your family, how are they?”
“They’re doing great,” I beam. “My parents are busier than ever with Waves of Coffee. I’ve asked my dad if he thinks they’ll retire soon or sell the business. He didn’t even wait two seconds before saying hell no. They absolutely love it.”
“That’s amazing,” he smiles. “I’ve thought about your dad a lot over the years. He’s a good man. He also makes the best damn cup of joe I’ve ever had.”
My chest tightens at his confession. My dad loved Callum and considered him part of the family. I know that he still thinks about Callum to this day. It’s bittersweet to think that I used to dream about me and Callum growing old together while having the privilege of watching my dad grow older.
“He’d be on cloud nine right now if he knew you said that.”
“It’s the truth,” he adds. “You’re dad is the best. How about Winnie? How’s that wild girl doing?”
“She’s Winnie,” I scoff in an older sibling kind of way. “She’s still a free spirit, but doing better than ever. She’s living in California while attending film school, trying to make it as an actress.”
“That doesn't surprise me one bit,” he admits. “She was always a little bit of a drama queen.”
“A little bit?” I turn up a brow. “You mean a lot a bit?”
“Hey, I’m trying to give Winnie some credit here,” he chuckles. “She’s just a very passionate individual.”
Callum’s nickname for Winnie used to be little firecracker . The name stuck, and now, my parents still call her that from time to time.
“I’m just giving her a hard time,” I sigh. “I couldn’t be more proud of Winnie. But while we’re on the topic of my sister, I’m sure I’m going to get a very theatrical phone call from her later tonight.”
“Yeah? Why is that?”
“She’s on a date tonight with a guy who’s been chasing after her for months. I’m sure she’ll call when I’m sound asleep to tell me all of the juicy details because, in Winnie’s eyes, who needs sleep?”
“Definitely not Winnie,” he laughs. “I remember your parents getting so pissed at her because she would stay up all night during the summer and sleep until noon the next day.”
“Oh, that’s still her sleep schedule,” I scoff. “I swear that girl is nocturnal. I’m just happy that she’s dating again. Her last relationship was a shit show. The guy was a total douche.”
He purses his lips together and shakes his head.
“I hate hearing that,” he replies. “I’m sure Winnie put him in his place, though.”
“She did,” I laugh, remembering how she threw all of his shit out of her fifth floor apartment window and sent pictures in the family group chat. “I think she’s finally moved on from him.”
“That’s good,” he says before taking another bite.
Callum grows uncomfortably quiet as he chews, staring down at the table while clearly overthinking his next words. He wipes his hands on a napkin before running his fingers through his dark hair.
He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it. When he runs a palm against his stubble in frustration, I know that something is off.
“Everything okay?”
He nods, finally lifting his head and meeting my gaze. If I wasn’t so concerned with what’s happening in his head, I would be hypnotized by his sapphire eyes.
He clears his throat.
“Have you, uh…been with anyone?”
Well, shit. I was not expecting that.
My eyes widen as I lean back in my chair, surprised by his question.
“Been with anyone?” I repeat. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that. Are we talking about dating, taking someone home to meet my family, or just casual sex?”
“Fucking hell,” he mutters under his breath .
He’s unsettled by the thought of me having sex with another man.
Good, he deserves to feel a little discomfort after ghosting me for years.
“You know what I mean,” he grits out. “Have you been serious with anyone?”
I arch a brow.
“Let’s just get this out of the way right now,” I exhale. “If you want to know if I’ve slept with other men over the past eleven years, then the answer is yes. It’s been over a decade, Callum. I had to try to get over you. You can’t fault me for that.”
His jaw clenches as if my response stabbed him in the gut.
“I don’t want to know who you’ve fucked, Birdie,” he clips. “But just to be clear, if I ever found out, they’d have a target on their backs for the rest of their life. Just thinking about another man touching you makes me want to cut all their fingers off, and then their cock.”
He says all of this while I’m mid-sip. My cheeks expand into a bubble as I try not to spit out my cappuccino. My eyes bug out of my head at his blatant honesty. Thankfully, I manage to swallow down the coffee between coughs.
“What in the hell did you just say?” I recover as amusement takes over. “That you would cut off another man’s cock for me? Wow, chivalry really isn't dead.”
He rolls his eyes, trying to hold back his own grin.
“Just answer my question, Birdie. Have you been serious with anyone else?”
“I mean, I’ve had a few long-term boyfriends. But nothing too serious beyond that. No marriage or kids.”
I watch as he lets out a breath of relief.
“Is that something you want in the future… Marriage and kids? ”
“Of course,” I answer without hesitation. “I’m just waiting for those things with the right person.”
He visibly flinches after I say “the right person.” And I know why.
Because he wants to be that person.
There used to be no doubt in my mind that he was.
“I want that too,” he finally mutters. “More than anything.”
A warm glow ignites in my chest at his confession.
“What about you?” I ask. “Have you…ever been serious with someone? You know, since…”
“No,” he shakes his head without missing a beat. “Never been married. It’s just me and Ollie. And if we’re really getting into the nitty gritty, I’ve never even fucked someone without a condom. ”
I start to move on to my next question, but then do a double take, processing what he just said.
Wait.
What?
“What? Without a… You mean you’ve… Never? ” My mouth hangs open. “Not once?”
“Nope,” he responds simply, but the silence left in the air speaks volumes.
He doesn’t make me read between the lines because when he notices me staring at him with furrowed brows, he sighs.
“It’s just… The thought of having a child with anyone else but…”
His words quickly die off as realization hits him like a truck. We’re not ready to have this conversation. He doesn't want to move too fast and scare me away. And I don’t want to move too fast and get my heart blown to shreds.
He clears his throat.
“The short answer is no, Birdie. I haven’t been serious with anyone else. To be honest, you were the only girl that I ever saw a future with.”
Now, I’m the one letting out a pent-up breath as a wave of relief washes through me.
Every day, I’ve wondered about Callum. I’ve tortured myself with images of him happily married with beautiful children who adore him. I thought he had completely forgotten about me. Discarded me like an old sweater in the heat of summer.
I couldn't have been more wrong.
“Then that’s all I need to know,” I breathe. “All I want to know. I’m not going to ask you about past girlfriends, or how many women you’ve slept with, because as much as I’ve thought about the answers to those questions, I know that the truth will only hurt me in return.”
“Are you sure, Birdie?” he all but whispers. “After the way I left you, I owe you any answers you want from me. Just ask, and I’ll tell you.”
“I’m sure,” I nod, knowing I can’t emotionally handle hearing him speak about relationships with other women. “What happened before today is behind us, and there’s absolutely nothing we can do to change that. You told me about your family and why you left, and that’s all I need to know. I don’t want to live in the past, Callum. And I’m sure you don’t either.”
A clean slate.
That’s all I want from here on out.
Maybe we can be friends again.
Maybe we’ll have the happy ending we never thought we could have.
Or maybe this will all end in shambles.
But I’m tired of holding a grudge. I’m so tired of being angry .
I’ve been resentful and bitter for eleven years. It’s fucking exhausting.
“You’re right,” he utters. “All I want for us is to move forward from here.”
My chest tightens as Callum reaches a hand across the table and threads his fingers through mine. I love the feel of his rough skin against mine. You don’t realize how much you miss the touch of another person until they’re gone. Then, you would give your last breath to feel their skin one more time.
My lips turn up in a soft smile as I gently squeeze his hand, never breaking our stare.
For the first time since we were just kids, it feels like we might be on the same page again.