Chapter 7
seven
CALLAN
We’ve been riding to the airport in silence, but it’s buzzing with all the things we’re not saying.
I know why, though, and I get it. I do. With every minute that passes, I chew on the inside of my cheek, wanting to ask anyway. Just to make sure she’s really okay.
“Excited to get home?”
The words are out before I can stop them, and the second they’re hanging in the air, I cringe. Really, Callan? That’s what you go with? You might as well have asked if she’s looking forward to a root canal.
She doesn’t snap, though. Just bounces her knee like she’s trying to shake something off while picking at her thumbnail. Her eyes are glued to the window. She looks a million miles away.
“Honestly? Not really,” she says quietly. “This was a nice break from reality.”
I sigh, mentally kicking myself. “Aye, I get that. I’m sure you’ll be back soon enough. Just say the word, and I’ll find some trouble for us to get into. Intentional trouble, mind you.”
She lets out a small laugh, and I swear, it’s like someone just took a giant weight off my shoulders. Seeing her all…sad? Yeah, no. It’s unsettling. It’s like watching a puppy get its tail stepped on. Just wrong on every level.
“Intentional trouble?” she asks, a hint of curiosity in her tone. “Is that a Callan specialty?”
“Only on the weekends.”
She raises an eyebrow, a little playfulness creeping in. “I might just take you up on that.”
I blink, surprised at how much that catches me off guard. She actually looks like she’s considering it.
I clear my throat. “So, uh, where are you staying when you get home?”
I catch the smirk she’s trying to hide out of the corner of my eye. “Worried about me?”
“Actually,” I admit without hesitation, “I am.”
She meets my gaze. “I’ll be okay, Callan. I’ve been staying with my parents for a while. I’m going to start looking at places in the next couple weeks.”
I nod slowly, but it’s not enough.
“Still,” I murmur, “you don’t have to play it all cool with me. Doesn’t hurt to make sure you’re actually safe, aye?”
Her shoulders tense, her fingers toying with the seam of her jeans like they’re suddenly fascinating. “I know,” she says, quieter this time. “But I’ll be fine. I’ve got it figured out.”
I want to call her on it. Tell her she’s allowed to not be strong for five bloody minutes, but her guard’s inching higher.
So I pull back. “All right,” I say with a small nod. “Just…if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”
She gives me a small smile, lips curving just right. “I know, Callan.”
“Good,” I say, keeping my voice casual. “But seriously, don’t go getting into trouble without me.”
There’s a challenge in her eyes. “That’s a promise I might hold you to.”
We keep the conversation light, but in the back of my mind, I’m counting down the minutes. Every damn second with her has been better than the last, and this ride to the airport feels way too damn short.
I shift the truck into park, kill the engine, and hop out before she can reach for the door. It’s not like I need to, but there’s this pull, this need to help her down, to hold her hand in mine one more time.
“Thank you, kind sir,” she teases.
“Anytime, milady,” I reply, giving a mocking bow, but my gaze lingers on her a beat longer than usual.
I take her bag, my hand brushing hers when I pass it to her. I maybe did that on purpose, but I’m not about to admit that out loud.
“Well, this is where I leave you, lass.”
She nods, but there’s disappointment in her expression. Or am I just reading too much into it?
“Callan, I…” she starts, then hesitates, biting her lip. I’m not sure what it is about the way she does it, but it hits me right in the gut. The little movement makes my thoughts scatter.
Her eyes meet mine, and for a second, the world holds its breath. “Thank you. For everything.”
I shrug, trying to play it cool, but I probably look like I’m overthinking the hell out of the whole thing. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Wouldn’t have it any other way? What the hell was that? Might as well have flat-out admitted I’ve got feelings for her. Great. This whole situation is way more complicated than I was prepared for.
So, I do what I always do. I force a smile. “Besides, it’s not like I had anything better to do, right?”
Great. Nailed it. That was definitely worse.
She raises an eyebrow, and I catch the little flicker in the corner of her mouth, that almost smile, and my heart skips a beat.
It’s like watching the sun peek through the clouds.
I want to see her really smile. I know it’s not my place to ask for it, but I can’t help the thought of being the one to make her smile again, after everything she’s been through. If I could do that, it’d be worth it.
“Well,” she says softly. “I appreciate it. More than you know.”
She leaves me with a small wave, and I watch her walk toward the entrance, her blonde hair catching the light with every step. The air is heavier, almost charged. Then she glances over her shoulder, and our eyes lock.
For a second, everything else…stops.
I force myself to look away. Don’t read too much into it.
She’s walking away. It’s like any other goodbye.
Doesn’t matter that it feels different this time or that I don’t want to let go.
It’s only a trip to the airport. That’s all.
If I make it awkward, she’ll feel it. And I’m not about to make this harder than it needs to be.
I clear my throat, pushing those thoughts aside, and throw out the first thing that comes to mind.
“Bye, Sunshine! Don’t forget to wear sunscreen!”
She turns around and looks at me like I’ve completely lost my mind. I mean, c’mon, did she really think she’d get away without me trying to embarrass her or at least get a laugh?
“You’re practically glowing. At this rate, you might start attracting seagulls. Just looking out for you.”
A blush creeps across her cheeks, and I swear, it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. She sticks her tongue out at me, and I almost lose it right there.
“You’re ridiculous,” she says, but there’s amusement in her voice.
I grin, a rush of pride flooding in that comes from knowing I’ve gotten under her skin in the best way. She rolls her eyes, mutters something half-hearted, and I eat it up like it’s the best thing I’ve tasted all week.
My grin fades almost as fast as it comes. Because then it hits me.
I’m going to miss her.
That wasn’t part of the plan. I don’t do missing people. I don’t sit still long enough to let anyone get close. It’s easier that way. No roots, no complications. And yet here I am, standing still like a damn idiot, watching as she rolls that suitcase behind her that I suddenly want to set on fire.
I keep telling myself I’m just looking out for her. That pushing her to open up and trying to keep her safe is about her, not me. But maybe that’s bullshit. Maybe I want to save her because some part of me is desperate to believe I should.
And that’s the real kicker because when did she become the thing I don’t want to walk away from?