Chapter 13 Callie #3
I tried to make sense of Wesley’s place here, and the kid calling him Mr. Ryan. His name wasn’t on the manager card, but perhaps it was outdated.
“I wasn’t aware she was staying in Rose Ridge,” Wes said to the kid, but he was staring at me.
My slow-ass brain finally connected the dots, and I felt a tiny wince flash across my features.
“You’re the new owner?”
The kid was looking between us like he wasn’t sure what to do.
The silence stretched, his comment hanging in the air, my question going unanswered.
Finally, the kid coughed. “So should I give her the application info?”
Wes finally looked away from me and gave his attention to his employee.
“No, that won’t be necessary.”
Hurt wound around my chest and squeezed. It was irrational and stupid, because I wasn’t planning to stay in Rose Ridge, regardless, but still, the door I had so excitedly assumed was an opportunity just slammed in my face, and it hurt.
Without saying another word, I exited the tattoo shop and stormed down the street, letting Wes catch up.
I was hungry, and I still wanted my grown-up conversation with the man, so I ventured toward the restaurant with the red awnings.
While I walked, I worked to fortify my emotions and heart.
No more fawning over Wesley’s words that kept throwing me for a loop, or his looks, or the way he kept touching me.
I wanted a real conversation so I could sell the property, learn what he was hiding, and get the hell out of here.
Skirting the building, I found the front door that had cute lettering outlining the bistro name.
Clara’s.
The hostess gave me a thin but polite smile while she reached for a menu, then her face broke into something entirely different as she gazed over my shoulder.
Her blue eyes lit up, her red lips widened, and her nails raked through her long black hair.
I knew without seeing that Wes had just walked in.
The way people in this town reacted to him was annoying as fuck.
“Hey, Jules, two please.” His voice echoed through the small foyer, and Max whined again, pushing his nose into my side.
Poor guy. It wasn’t his fault the idiot had a hold of him, yet I’d ditched him twice already.
I tried to gently tug the leash from Wes, but he only glared at me and held firm.
“Sure, uh…outside, I’m assuming?” Jules asked with a soft laugh, sliding another menu behind the first.
Wes nodded, and we followed her outside. We were seated at a table for two. Max found a bowl of water, where he drank the thing dry then plopped down next to me with a groan.
“Do you want your usual drink, Wes?” Jules asked, leaning over the table. Her cleavage was conveniently on display, and it seemed like she’d popped the top button of her shirt sometime between when I walked in and now.
“Yeah, thanks, and can we have the brisket special, two plates, and an order of onion rings?”
Jules glanced at me briefly, as though she didn’t want to bring attention or awareness that I was actually here, then she gave us a quick nod before walking off.
I grabbed the cutlery and began untying the little string. “So, you come here often?”
Wes lifted the glass bottle of water and began pouring us each a cup while he smirked.
“Red, she loves this place. I come here with her and Brooks and whatever date they usually set me up on. They’ve been trying to get me to be a little more human and a lot less pissed off. They say I work too much and don’t have a personal life.”
That made me smile. Red and Brooks were adorable, and the image of Wes wedged around one of these small tables with those two and some date while they all awkwardly talked was simply hilarious.
You couldn’t take Brooks anywhere, and if you added in Red, and an awkward situation, you had pure mayhem.
“What?” Wes asked, smiling at me over the brim of his cup.
“Just picturing that. I bet it was a bit much to have them set you up on dates. Did any of them stick?”
He smiled, and all that sunshine I had been missing suddenly came back, making my heart skip a beat.
“No. Red and Brooks would argue over the dumbest shit in front of the poor girls, and it always made them uncomfortable. They also never got a word in edgewise to ask me any questions. I had one girl ask me for my number afterward, just to see if I wanted to hook up.”
It wasn’t my business to know how that ended but I still asked.
“Did you say yes?”
His eyes found mine and it felt like a rock had landed in my stomach. I had fucked other people over the span of time we were broken up, it would only make sense that he had as well. Still, the idea of him with anyone else nearly sucked all the air from my lungs.
“Do you really want to know, Callie? I sure as fuck don’t want to know a single thing about anyone you’ve been with. I don’t want to know if you have someone waiting for you in DC, or if you got engaged or married. I don’t even want to know if you had some stranger kiss you on New Year’s.”
I sipped my water to help loosen the knot in my throat, letting his words wash over me and help me reassess what I wanted to say next, but it was pointless. My brain and heart were flipping me the bird tonight and saying whatever the fuck they wanted to say.
“Why? If you more than got over me like you said you did, then why would it bother you to hear about any of that?”
Wes leaned in closer, leveling me with a glare.
“Because as far as I’m concerned, they all belonged to me.
Every kiss. Every moan. Every touch. Whatever you chose to do over the past seven years was all owed to me.
You robbed me of an entire life, Callie.
Forgive me if I don’t want to hear about some guy named Craig who showed up at your apartment at midnight, only to show up at your doorstep two more nights after that. ”
Wait a second… My spine straightened as goosebumps moved down my arms.
“Or some fucker named Joe who picked you up at a farmers’ market and took you to his place, where you stayed until midnight. I certainly don’t want to know about some asshole with a cowboy hat who found you at a rodeo and thought he had the right to fuck you in the bed of his truck.”
Oh my God.
Tears burned the backs of my eyes as my nose flared.
How had he…
“Wes…” My voice cracked right as Jules showed up with our onion rings, breaking the moment. I ducked my face to hide my emotions. The tears were clouding my vision at this point, and his confession had muddied my thoughts.
Once she left, I glared up at him, my jaw tight and my face stern.
“How did you—?” was all I could choke out, but what I wanted to ask was if he’d had me followed, because he’d just recounted—with terrifying accuracy—every single sexual encounter I’d had in the past seven years.
It wasn’t much, just enough to shatter my self respect and heart.
Every time I slept with someone, it was a way to convince myself that I was over Wes, and each time I’d compare them to him.
Each time, they came up short, and I’d emotionally disconnect.
I wondered if Wes knew about any of the ones who had continued to text me, who wanted more from me, but I just didn’t have it in me to give.
Wes glared, and after a few tense seconds he rasped, “The better question is how could you?”
I felt like I’d been slapped.
“What do you mean? We were broken up…it had been years, Wes.”
His jaw moved like he was chewing glass, and suddenly there was a sheen to his gaze.
“You left me, Callie. You ended things with me. I was good to you, never gave you a fucking reason to leave. Yet, you moved on.”
Scoffing, I tossed my napkin down on the table.
“And what, Wes? You’re so fucking perfect that you never did?
” Because fuck that, I knew he had. There was no way he’d become the leader of my father’s club without fucking someone at some point.
I grew up seeing sex and nudity and learning it was just a part of life, and if anything, nothing to make a huge deal over.
It wasn’t until Wes that I realized it could mean more.
Suddenly Wes was leaning so far over the table, he was practically nose to nose with me and it made it that much more intense when he ground out, “No.”
His gaze slowly moved over my face, landing on my lips as he explained.
“I never could touch anyone after you. You were my first, and fuck, if you ended up being my only…there would never be another after what we had.”
My chest was so tight it felt hard to breathe. My breath was a heavy cloud, hanging in my chest, useless and lacking any oxygen.
Tears trailed my face, and suddenly the reason I had clung so tightly to seven years ago for leaving the love of my life just didn’t seem very substantial anymore.
I missed him. I loved him. It never stopped, yet the distance was a divider in our lives and had tossed us on opposite sides of the world with no way back to one another.
I stared at him, he stared back, and when our food arrived, we ate in complete silence.
What could I say to him? He’d not touched another person during our time apart, and I had.
Why did that make me want to throw up? Suddenly the food didn’t have taste, and I just stared at the plate, pushing the meat around in slow, pathetic strokes.
Not only was I the villain who ended us, but I was the one who moved on, too.
I hated myself, and there was no cure for it, but still, the rustling in my heart echoed of betrayal from his lack of action.
Why hadn’t he come after me? He never tried to reclaim me, and that spoke louder than moving on physically ever would.
Wes paid the check, and then we were on our way back to the property.
We hadn’t spoken of what I’d read in the library or anything else.
I wasn’t sure how to bring it up at this point.
Wes had admitted why he never wanted to move on physically from me, but I believed with all my heart he’d moved on emotionally.