My Best Years

Chapter 21

TWENTY-ONE

Birdie

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” I mutter as I walk through the door.

According to the news, it’s the hottest day of the summer, and my apartment feels like the pits of hell. For whatever reason, the open-concept kitchen and living room always seem to be burning up. I have to keep my bedroom door shut at all times because it’s the only space that consistently stays cool.

When I first moved in, I assumed the excessive heat was caused by the sun pouring in through the large windows, so I put up curtains to help. But as the days pass, I swear it only gets hotter. I’ve tried adjusting the temperature on the AC, but the only room that’s ever bearable is my bedroom.

I can’t do this anymore. This is unlivable. I should be able to enjoy cooking a meal in my kitchen or lounging around on the couch on my day off.

I’m calling maintenance today to ask them to fix this immediately. It’s too hot in here. I simply can’t put it off anymore .

Before brewing a cup of coffee this morning, I realized I was completely out of creamer. I took that as an excuse to go pick up an iced latte. Now, I wish I had stayed out and gone shopping or ran errands. Anything is better than melting away in this apartment.

I set my coffee down on the kitchen counter and walk into my bedroom to change into a sports bra and spandex shorts. The fewer clothes, the better. That’s the only way I’m going to make it through today.

After I change, I turn on every ceiling fan in the apartment and walk back into the kitchen to retrieve my coffee. As I’m grabbing my cup, I hear a buzzing and pinch my brows together when I realize it's my phone ringing on the counter.

It’s probably just my dad. He’s the only person who ever calls me before noon.

I pick up my phone, ready to just answer it, but then my eyes widen when I see it’s Callum’s name lighting up the screen.

It’s been three days since we met for coffee, and we’ve texted a few times since then. But this is the first time he’s tried to call me.

I stare down at my phone as it rings, going back and forth in my head.

Should I answer it?

Or should I let it go to voicemail, text him in half an hour, and say I was away from my phone?

I could say I was sleeping or taking a shower. Both are buyable excuses.

It’s not that I don’t want to talk to him. But what could he be calling to talk about? Could it be just to chat?

Who just calls people these days?!

Texting is more comfortable for me because I have time to think about my response. There’s nothing worse than a phone call filled with awkward silences. And with the way I’m currently forgetting how to even answer a call, I have a feeling this is about to get really awkward really fast.

As his call approaches its last ring, my thumb flies out and presses answer against my will. I nervously tap my free hand against the counter before pressing the phone to my ear.

“Hey– Hi– Um…hello? This is Birdie.”

I silently smack my palm against my forehead.

“Hey, Birdie,” Callum answers enthusiastically. “Good to know you didn’t change your number on me.”

I chuckle nervously. “Not yet.”

“I thought you weren’t going to answer for a second there. I was just getting ready to leave a voicemail.”

“Yeah,” I mumble. “Sorry about that. I was in my bedroom when I heard my phone ringing from the kitchen.”

“Are you off work today?”

“Yup. Today is one of the few Fridays that I’m not on the schedule. What about you?”

“Oh, that’s nice,” he replies. “And yeah, I’m working, unfortunately. But I was actually calling to see if you wanted to get lunch today.”

Suddenly, I feel all bubbly at the thought of spending more time with him.

I look down at the pearl of sweat rolling down my stomach and watch it disappear into the waistband of my shorts.

“I would love that,” I sigh. “But I’m about to call maintenance to come to my apartment. And I have no idea how long it will take.”

“Why?” he asks, concern lacing his tone. “What’s going on?”

“Something is wrong with the air conditioning,” I grumble. “My room is the only area in my apartment that cools off. Which means my kitchen and living room are hotter than Satan’s asshole at all times.”

I hear him snort before letting out a throaty laugh.

“It’s not funny, Cal. I’m living in hell here.”

“No, no, no,” he recovers. “I don’t think it’s funny. But… Hotter than Satan’s asshole? That’s pretty fucking funny. I can’t say that I’ve heard that one before.”

My lips curve in a smile at the sound of his deep chuckle.

“Well, it’s the truth.”

“Damn, that sucks… Why don’t you let me come check it out before you call maintenance?”

“Oh, no,” I shake my head. “I can’t ask you to do that. Plus, you’re working today.”

“It’s no big deal. I basically make my own schedule,” he adds. “Unless I have to be in court, I’m on my own timeline. I’m just working from home today and catching up on emails. I can come over anytime.”

Now that I think about it, it would be nice not to have to call maintenance. I would have to schedule my entire day off around them. Who knows, they might not even be available today. And I can’t go through another twenty-four hours of this insufferable heat.

“Really?” I ask. “You wouldn't mind?”

“Not at all,” he replies. “I can’t promise I’ll be able to fix it, but I’ll try my best. One of the many things I’ve learned as a homeowner is to try and figure shit out on my own before calling a contractor. That shit is expensive.”

I’m thankful that Callum can’t see me through the phone because the thought of him doing manual labor in my apartment has me tugging my bottom lip between my teeth.

“If you’re sure it’s not a bother, I would really appreciate the help. ”

I can’t believe I’m about to have Callum Pierce in my apartment.

Hell, if someone would have told me six months ago that Callum would be calling me to grab lunch, I would have told them that they were out of their damn mind.

But…here we are.

“I want to help, Birdie.” His baritone voice elongates my name in a way that has my lower abdomen tightening. “Plus, I can’t stand the thought of you sitting around in that hot apartment. Just tell me when you’re ready for me, and I’ll head that way.”

Maybe it’s because I’m an avid romance reader, but I can’t help how my heart clenches at his protectiveness.

“The sooner, the better. I feel like it’s only getting warmer by the second.”

“I’m heading that way now,” he says the instant the words leave my lips. Nervous jitters fill my stomach when I hear the jiggle of his keys. “Can you text me your address?”

“Yes, I’ll send it over now.”

I put Callum on speaker as I type out my address and text it to him.

“Just sent. Did you get it?”

“Yup,” he answers. “It looks like I’m less than ten minutes away. I’m going to grab a few tools from the shed, and then I’ll be on the road.”

Callum’s always been this way with me. Willing to drop everything to be by my side if I needed him. That’s why I was so devastated and confused when he disappeared without a word.

“Sounds good,” I breathe. “I’ll see you soon then?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he says playfully. “Hopefully, you won’t have to live in Satan’s asshole much longer.”

“God, I hope not,” I chuckle .

He lets out a laugh before audibly clearing his throat. When his breath hitches, it feels like he’s carefully contemplating his next words.

“If, uh…” he stammers. “If it’s a bigger issue that requires maintenance, you’re more than welcome to stay with me until they fix it. I know it’s not ideal, but I have a spare bedroom. It’s comfortable, a close drive to the hospital, and will keep you out of the heat until your apartment is ready.”

Well, shit.

I was not expecting that.

I take a sip of my coffee before leaning forward and resting my elbows on the kitchen counter.

Honestly, the thought of staying the night in Callum’s home doesn't scare me as much as it should.

But I know there’s a good chance I’d end up in his bed instead of the spare bedroom. And as intriguing as that sounds, I know we shouldn't rush this.

Whether we’re headed toward friendship or something more complex, I want to do this right.

Sex only complicates things. And our situation is already complicated enough.

“Thanks,” I mutter. “We’ll just play it by ear. If you can’t fix it, I’m sure that maintenance will be able to swing by today.”

If I had to stay anywhere other than my apartment, I would one hundred percent get a hotel room. But I don’t have the heart to tell Callum that after he selflessly offered me a place to stay.

“Okay,” he replies easily. “Well, I’ll head your way then.”

I exhale quietly, thankful he’s not insisting I stay with him.

I think we both know how that would end up. After a decade of wanting someone deep in your bones, it’s only a matter of time until you’re no different than a caged animal.

I wouldn't last one night alone with Callum Pierce. I just know that before the sun made its appearance over the horizon, he would have me stripped bare. I would cry out his name as his body moved against mine, sinking into me over and over again.

And that’s exactly why I can’t accept his offer.

My heart rate doubles when I hear two firm knocks come from the other side of my door.

Breathe, Birdie.

Just breathe. You grew up with this man. At one point in time, he knew you better than anybody.

Any second now, Callum is going to walk through the door and be standing in my apartment. After all these years…Who the hell would have thought? Definitely not me.

Thick beads of sweat roll down my skin, outweighing the fear of letting Callum in. Literally and figuratively.

Desperate to get some relief from the heat, I reach for the knob and twist. As the door swings open, I can’t help but gape at the sight of Callum.

Jesus Christ.

For the love of all things holy.

God help me.

He’s wearing work clothes that are fit for manual labor. His long legs are clad in a light pair of jeans that look washed but have spatters of old stains on the denim. His white t-shirt is so worn that it’s practically see-through. Saliva pools in my mouth at the sight of his prominent pecs showing through the thin cotton. My eyes lower to a hole in his shirt, revealing a sliver of tan skin above his rib cage.

I swear he wore that shirt just to taunt me.

When my gaze roams up his muscular arms to his neck, I find him staring back at me with the exact same expression. A jet black curl rests against his forehead, glistening with sweat as he gazes at me like he’s speechless.

Fuck.

The way he looks right now… This image of him will forever be the star of my darkest fantasies. I didn’t know that men in worn-out clothes and damp hair were my thing until now.

I’m distracted from my thoughts when I hear his velvety voice mutter my name.

“Birdie Wren,” he grits out, gravel lacing his tone. “Are you trying to fucking kill me?”

My brows pinch together in confusion as he flexes his jaw and rakes his sapphire gaze down my body. He chews on his bottom lip before pushing a trembling hand through his thick curls.

“Christ, Birdie,” he grunts. “You’re putting me through hell before I even step inside your apartment.”

His gaze lands on my chest and freezes there. “I mean… Fuck .” A pained expression fills the lines of his face.

I follow his gaze, realizing that I never put a shirt on. But even if I did remember, it’s so fucking hot in here that adding another layer would be torture.

So here I am, standing in front of Callum Pierce in my sports bra and skin-tight spandex shorts. I might as well be in my bra and underwear.

I quickly cross my arms over my chest, attempting to hide the way my nipples poke through the neon fabric.

“Shit,” I stammer. “I…I’m sorry, I meant to put a shirt on before you got here. It’s just so hot in here–”

He cuts me off by stepping inside my apartment and shutting the door behind him. His fiery gaze never leaves my body as he stalks toward me.

God, I hate how much I crave the feral look on his face right now. His fingers flex at his sides like it’s taking all his self-control not to touch my exposed skin.

“You’re not changing,” he shakes his head. “And you have nothing to apologize for. It’s fucking boiling in here.”

“I know, but…” I trail off, staring down at my half-naked body

“You look good, Birdie,” he admits in a deep tone that has me clenching my thighs together. “But it would be a cold day in hell before I wouldn’t think you were the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.”

I swallow thickly as my eyes bounce between his.

“I could go on and on about how perfect I think you are,” he rasps. “But I know that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to rescue you from Satan‘s asshole.”

A chuckle bubbles up my throat, and a smile breaks across his face.

“Please do,” I laugh. “Because it’s not a pleasant place to be.”

“Hell isn’t supposed to be pleasant, Birdie.”

He runs his fingers through his dark hair and steps further into my apartment. He slides a bag down his arm, which I assume carries his tools.

I don’t know where my confidence comes from, but I stop him from going any further by placing my hand in the middle of his hard chest. Fuck, it feels so good to touch him.

A current of electricity swims through my veins as the pads of my fingers connect with his cotton shirt. The material is so thin that I can feel the heat of his body radiating against my skin. I should move my hand, but instead, my fingers linger and stretch against his breastbone.

I’ve missed his familiar warmth too much. I’ve yearned for it for too long .

It feels impossible to let my hand fall.

Callum’s entire body freezes, and I know that he’s experiencing the same emotions. When my eyes lift to meet his, I find him staring directly down at my hand. Unspoken agony hides behind his hooded lashes, bobbing against the surface of his ocean eyes. My hand rises and falls with the motion of his chest as silence falls between us.

Just as quickly as I reached out to touch him, he flexes his jaw and quickly steps back. My hand drops to my side as he puts a safe amount of space between us.

Without speaking, I can see the war he’s battling in his mind.

He wants to admit how good it feels to touch me again. It’s the closest feeling he has to coming home. And judging by the hunger in his eyes, he might even want to pin me against the wall and slam his lips to mine.

But he also can’t hide his remorse for breaking my heart. Even if I wanted him to seal our lips together and feel the slide of his tongue against mine, he wouldn’t do it until I was ready.

He’s terrified of messing this up. And so am I.

So, I clear my throat and continue our previous conversation.

“And how do you know so much about hell?” My voice comes out low, full of emotion and undeniable lust.

Knots form in my stomach at his next words.

“Because I’ve been living in it for the past eleven years.”

All I can do is nod my head. Because I couldn't relate to that more.

Fifteen minutes later, Callum is standing on a stepstool with his arms lifted above his head, checking one of the air vents in the living room. He doesn't really need the stool, given how tall he is, but it does give him a better range of motion.

I’m standing on the floor beside him with his tool bag next to my feet in case he needs anything. My bare toes tap against the floor as I hope and pray that he can get to the bottom of whatever is going on.

As he raises his arms higher, I can’t help but lower my gaze to where the bottom of his shirt rises up.

Maybe I shouldn't be standing so close to him…

My core heats when I catch a glimpse of the golden skin stretching across his lean stomach. I clench my thighs together as I follow the dark patch of hair that sits beneath his belly button and disappears beneath the waistline of his jeans.

Thank God he’s not paying attention to me right now. I can’t control the fluttering of my pulse or how my cheeks heat when I think about what’s hiding beneath his jeans.

I’ve only ever had him once before…and it was fucking mindblowing. I can only imagine how good he must be in bed now.

Just the thought has wetness pooling in my shorts.

At the ripe age of eighteen, he was demanding and vocal in the bedroom. Now, as an experienced man, I know that he would wreck me. He would send me to my ruin.

I’m distracted from my lustful thoughts when Callum lets out a choppy breath. I look up, prepared to hand him a screwdriver or something. But when I see the corner of his lips curve up in a smile, I narrow my eyes in confusion. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down, as if he’s trying his best to hold back a laugh.

His neck turns apple red as he snorts, accidentally letting out a chuckle.

I furrow my brows and shake my head.

“What?” I ask. “What’s so funny? ”

“It’s not,” he chuckles, “uh…funny. It’s just…I don’t want to embarrass you. I think it’s cute.”

Am I missing something?

“What the hell are you talking about, Callum?”

He gets down from the stool before stepping into my space. An amused grin stretches across his face as he slides his long fingers up my jaw. My heart flutters when he cups my jaw between his hands.

My eyes threaten to roll back at the feel of his calloused skin against my soft cheeks.

His gaze flicks between mine, his grin never faltering as he stares at me like I’m the most perfect human he’s ever seen. He stares at me like I’m the center of his universe.

I could never get used to the way Callum looks at me.

“Nothing is wrong with your air conditioning, babe.”

Babe.

I know he’s only being playful. He doesn't mean it as a term of endearment. But it still sends a surge of heat down my spine.

“What do you mean there’s nothing wrong with the air? It’s ninety degrees in here, Callum.”

He chuckles once more and sweeps his thumbs along my cheeks.

“Your vents are closed, Birdie,” he clarifies. “That’s why you’re not getting airflow in here. The vents in your room are probably the only ones open, which is why it’s cooler in there. That’s where all the cold air is going since the vents out here are blocked off.”

Oh my God.

I briefly close my eyes as I process this devastating news.

I instantly feel all the blood in my body rush to my face in utter embarrassment. Because what the fuck, Birdie?

How did I not think to check the fucking vents? My God, I feel so stupid .

“What?” I stammer, in shock that I could make such a bonehead mistake. “Oh my God…” I exhale, placing a palm to my sweaty forehead.

“This is so embarrassing. I’m so sorry for wasting your time, Callum. You stopped your busy day to come and help me with something as simple as opening a damn air vent. Jesus Christ…”

“Hey.” He steps in closer, so close that I see a drop of sweat trickle down his temple. So close that his hot breath brushes against my skin, soothing me.

“Don’t apologize to me,” he shakes his head. “I offered to help you. I wanted to help. And you have nothing to be embarrassed about. I’d bet this is a common occurrence that lots of people overlook. I’m sure it happens all the time.”

I tilt my head to the side and give him a knowing look. He’s just trying to make me feel better, and I think that’s sweet. But seriously… How did I not think to check the vents?

“I guess my hair is naturally blonde for a reason…” I trail off.

He scowls at my self-deprecating humor, clearly not finding it funny.

My heart forgets to beat as he removes one of his hands from my cheeks and twirls his finger around one of the strands of my ponytail. With his hold on my hair, he pulls me closer to him.

“You want to know what I think?” His voice comes out low and sexy. It’s so sultry that I can barely keep my whimper at bay.

With one hand on my cheek and the other in my hair, I have no choice but to play along. I’m completely at his mercy.

“Sure.”

“I think you’re fucking perfect,” he rasps. “I always have. I’ve never seen hair the color of yours, Birdie Wren. It’s like a golden sunset that not even a camera can capture. And your mind… It’s a shame that not everyone gets to experience it. You’re kind, smart, and humble all at the same time. You’re perfect, Birdie. So don’t ever feel embarrassed. Not around me.”

My chest expands with deep breaths, moving against his as I soak in his words. Without thinking of the consequences, I decide that I need my hands on him too. So I snake my arms around his back, curl my fingers into his T-shirt, and pull him to me until there’s no space left between us.

His heart pounds against mine, beating in perfect rhythm.

“Cal…” I whisper, staring up into his ocean eyes. I don’t know what else to say except his name.

I want to tell him how much I’ve missed him, but I can’t find the words.

Just like he did when we were kids, he finds them for me.

“Birdie,” he mutters while caressing his thumb against my cheek. “God, I missed you. I missed you so damn much. I never want to miss you like that again. I’m so fucking sorry for letting you go. It was, and will forever be, the biggest regret of my life.”

The heartbreak in his tone is overwhelming. I can feel every ounce of pain and remorse he holds for leaving me like he did.

“I know,” I whisper before leaning forward to press our damp foreheads together. “I know, Cal.”

He untangles his hand from my ponytail and slides his fingers up the nape of my neck before sinking them into my hair. He cradles the back of my head, massaging my scalp as he holds me tighter to him.

Everything about this feels so intimate.

“And I missed you too,” I confess. Our lips are so close that I feel his hot breath.

A groan comes from deep in his chest when I slide my hand beneath the hem of his shirt and skim my fingers up his naked back. Even though we’re both sweating, goosebumps form on his skin from my touch.

I’m not sure if it’s his deodorant or the cologne before he came over, but God, he smells so fucking divine. I can’t pinpoint the scent, but it’s a woodsy mixture of warm spices and earthy undertones.

I don’t realize that the tips of my nails are digging into his back until I feel him harden between us. Our bodies are flush together, which means there’s no hiding his thick arousal.

My eyelashes flutter as I press against him, feeling the tip of his denim-covered cock nudge against my belly. Adrenaline surges through my veins as my heart threatens to beat out of my chest.

Just thinking about touching him there… Seeing him after all these years has my shorts growing dangerously wet between my legs. Without looking, I know that my nipples are hard, unashamedly poking through my sports bra.

I’m starving for this man.

I haven’t been this turned on since the first time I had sex with Callum. And all we’re doing is holding each other. We haven't even kissed since he’s been back in my life.

Feeling bold, I intentionally roll my hips against his erect cock. A soft moan escapes me as the rough denim of his jeans rubs against my sensitive clit.

“Fuck,” Callum groans through gritted teeth. “Birdie Wren.”

My insides heat like molten lava when he removes his hand from my hair and slides his fingers down my back to grip my ass in his large hand.

“I only have so much control,” he says breathlessly. “And if you keep grinding against my cock, then I’m going to lose it. You’re the only woman I’ve wanted. You’re the only face I see when I close my eyes and fuck my fist. I’m barely hanging on by a thread here. So if you want this to stop, then you’re going to have to be the one to do it.”

You’re the only face I see when I close my eyes and fuck my fist.

Fuck. Me.

Literally. Fuck me.

Just his ravenous tone could make me come. He sounds desperate in the sexiest way. His voice is husky, thick, and full of raw need.

I don’t want to stop. Even though I know we should, I couldn't imagine pulling my body away from his right now.

I should stop. We should take this slow. We need to take this slow. We already know that the physical attraction is there. That’s not our problem. Our problem is the eleven fucking years we have to make up for.

But dammit, I don’t want to stop. I feel like I need this more than my next breath.

“I…”

The universe decides for me because right as I’m about to tell Callum to keep going, his phone starts ringing in his pocket. I’ve never heard such a loud, obnoxious ringtone in my entire life.

“ Shit ,” Callum curses, completely out of breath. He quickly releases me before digging a hand into his pocket to fish out his phone.

“I’m sorry, Birdie,” he exhales, shaking his head in disappointment. “I have to check my phone during work hours in case there’s an emergency.”

“No, I get it,” I say breathlessly.

And I do. As a child neglect and abuse lawyer, I’m sure he has to be on call at all times. I can’t even begin to imagine the kinds of terrible phone calls he’s received.

Honestly, it’s for the better that the call interrupted us. Because I was on the verge of shoving him down to my couch and letting him fuck any sense of logic out of me. And as much as I know I would enjoy it, I need to think clearly when it comes to Callum. And I can’t do that while his dick is inside me.

“It’s a representative for one of my clients,” he sighs while staring down at his phone. “Let me get this; it’ll take two seconds.”

“Sure,” I nod in understanding. “Go ahead.”

His lips curve up in an apologetic smile before he turns and walks into my kitchen. It doesn’t bother me that he stepped away because I know he has to keep everything confidential, especially since he’s working with cases involving minors.

As a nurse, I fully understand how important confidentiality is. It was drilled into us during nursing school.

After a few minutes of hearing his muffled voice in the background, he ends the call and walks back into the living room.

“I’m sorry about that.” He grabs the back of his neck in frustration, looking on edge.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it was a call for one of my clients. We’re due in court in less than a week, and they want to make a few changes to their contract, which is a shit ton of paperwork, approvals, and signatures. So I’ll need to get started on that today.”

“Damn,” I mutter. “Well, I’ve already taken up enough of your time today. You should head home so you can get started.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he nods. “But I’ll finish the job here first before I leave.”

“I can handle it,” I toss out. “You’ve already helped me enough.”

“It’ll take me five minutes max to open all the vents.”

“Exactly,” I respond. “Which is why I can handle it. You have a real job to get back to, and I’m off today. I got it. Seriously, don’t worry.”

Callum places a hand on his broad hip and tosses me a dull stare.

“Why are you being so stubborn, Birdie?” he deadpans. “Just let me help you.”

I narrow my eyes at him and cross my arms over my chest.

“You know what? It’s kind of offensive that you don’t think I can do it myself. It’s literally as simple as flipping a switch.”

He arches a brow.

“It’s offensive that I’m offering to help out?”

“No, it’s offensive that you think I can’t flip a damn switch on an air vent, all because I’m a woman or some shit.”

He chuckles and rolls his eyes.

“Okay, now you’re just putting words in my mouth,” he retorts. “I did not say that.”

“You might as well have.”

He clicks his tongue before flashing me a smug grin.

“Are we having our first adult fight, Birdie Wren?”

Damn him.

I hate that he’s trying to Birdie Wren me right now when I’m trying to make a point. He knows it’s my weakness.

“We will be if you don’t let me open my own goddamn vents.”

His brows shoot up to his forehead as his smile grows wider.

“Damn, you’ve gotten feistier with age,” he quips. “I have to admit, it kind of turns me on.”

If he only knew how turned on I am right now. That I’m two seconds away from jumping his bones.

“Go home, Callum,” I roll my eyes and bend down to pick up his bag before sliding it up his arm. “You’ve already helped me enough, and I feel bad that I’m cutting into your work day. I’m a big girl. Trust me, I’ll be just fine.”

He lets out a deep laugh as I press my palms to his chest and slowly start to walk him back toward the front door.

“Okay, okay.” He tosses his arms up in the air in defeat. “Excuse me for wanting to help.”

“I’m appreciative of your help, Cal,” I say, stopping right in front of the door. “I really am. Thank you for coming by. It would have been a lot more embarrassing if maintenance had to tell me I just needed to open the vents.”

A hint of jealousy flashes through Callum’s eyes as he drags his gaze up and down my body.

“Do me a favor,” he starts. “Always call me before you let a stranger inside your apartment. Just the thought of another man seeing you like this…” he flexes his jaw at the thought. “Just… Call me first, okay?”

His expression morphs from playful to serious. It’s evident that the thought of me alone with another man has him spiraling. It kills me to see how quickly fear and anxiety took over his emotions. At first, I thought about taunting him because there’s no competition when it comes to Callum. But after everything we’ve been through, I would never want to make him feel how he looks right now. Broken.

“Okay,” I nod. “You’ll be the first person I call.”

“Good.” He exhales a pent-up breath.

“Okay,” I smile softly. “Thanks again, Cal. I really appreciate you coming over.”

When I reach behind him to open the door, he stops me by wrapping his fingers around my wrist. My skin burns beneath his grip. Begging for more.

“Wait,” he rushes out. “When will I see you again?”

“I work the rest of the weekend. But I can send you my schedule when I get to the hospital in the morning. I should have some evenings free next week.”

“By next week, do you mean Monday or Tuesday?”

“I don’t know,” I chuckle. “I need to check my schedule in the morning.”

“But I’ll see you in a few days, right?”

My stomach dances with butterflies at his persistence.

“Sure,” I smile.

“Because I don’t want to wait another week to see you, Birdie,” he rasps. “I can’t wait another seven days to see you.”

I can’t wait another seven days to see you.

I fear that the icy parts of my heart are starting to melt, defrosting for the same man responsible for putting it in the freezer.

“You won’t have to,” I assure him. “I promise.”

“Okay,” he nods. “I’ll see you soon, Birdie.”

“See you soon, Cal.”

Before he releases my wrist, he brings my hand to his lips and places a featherlight kiss to my knuckles.

Each time he touches me, the idea of taking things slow seems more impractical.

My head is telling me to guard my heart. But my heart is screaming for me to see if his lips taste the same.

I guess only time will tell which one will win.