Chapter 16
sixteen
brEE
Holy hell, this is the nicest bathroom I’ve ever been in.
The walls and floor are covered in dark marble, giving it this ridiculously luxurious vibe, and the floating vanity with its huge, backlit round mirror looks like something straight out of a magazine.
Then there’s the walk-in, frameless shower that’s practically begging me to use it.
Honestly, it puts every spa I’ve ever been in to shame.
By the time I tear myself away from my new favorite place in the flat, the scent of herbs and spices hits my senses. It’s enough to make my stomach growl as I follow the aroma down the hall.
“What is that mouthwatering smell?” I call out, rounding the corner into the kitchen.
Callan is standing at the counter, unpacking paper bags stuffed full of takeout containers. He glances over his shoulder, his signature smirk already creeping onto his face. “I hope you like Thai,” he says casually. “I grabbed a bit of everything. Didn’t know what you’d be in the mood for.”
A container of pad thai lands on the counter, followed by a bowl of green curry that looks like it could put all other curries to shame.
“There’s more in the other bag. I just haven’t opened it yet.”
“More, huh? You’re really going all out. Is this your clever way of ensuring I’m too full to leave?”
He shoots me an exasperated look, but I catch the corner of his mouth twitching. I’m not fooled. He’s pretending to be annoyed, but I can see right through it.
“I’m just teasing,” I add quickly, waving him off before he can say anything. “You’re in luck. I love Thai. This is all great.”
His shoulders relax slightly. For a guy who wears unbothered like a badge of honor, it’s kind of sweet that he’s so tuned in.
I grab a little bit of everything from the spread, my plate quickly turning into what could only be described as a sampler platter of dreams. The second I take my first bite, it’s like my taste buds have been hit with spicy, tangy fireworks. Someone definitely worked a little magic in that kitchen.
I pause, trying not to look like a complete savage as I bring my hand to my lips, fighting the urge to talk with my mouth full.
“Mm, wow,” I manage after swallowing. “This might be some of the best Thai I’ve ever had.”
“Hell yeah, it is,” he says. “I always order from this place when I’m in Edinburgh.” He takes a bite of his own, nodding like it’s the same level of life-changing every time. “They’ve got everything. Sweet, spicy, savory. They know exactly what I need.”
“High maintenance, are you?”
“Nah,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “I just have standards.”
I snort. “Sure, let’s call it that.”
He chuckles, shaking his head as he digs back into his food, and I can’t help but smile. This feels easy, natural, like it’s the most normal thing in the world to be sitting here sharing food and teasing each other.
“So, are you always this generous with your takeout orders?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Only when I’m trying to impress someone.”
My heart skips a beat, and I immediately tell myself to relax. It’s just Callan being Callan. Confident, playful, and probably just saying it to get a reaction. Still, the way he says it, like it’s a fact he’s not even trying to hide, sends warmth rushing to my cheeks.
I should laugh it off, but my brain has already decided to run a marathon.
“Well…it’s working.”
“Good.” His voice drops an octave. “Because I’ve got a few more tricks up my sleeve.”
And just like that, my pulse kicks into overdrive.
“Damn it, Callan,” I mutter, pacing the room as I glance over my shoulder for what feels like the hundredth time. “I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight.”
We’re supposed to be winding down, but there’s no way my brain is shutting off.
My nerves are fried from the creepy stories and that eerie history lesson during the tour.
Even though it’s over, the unsettling vibe lingers.
I swear there’s a bizarre, heavy pressure behind me, like someone is standing there breathing down my neck. And not in the way I’d prefer.
Callan, of course, grins like he’s having the time of his life. “Well, at least you won’t be alone. Didn’t the guide mention something about nocturnal visitors who like to hang around people who can’t sleep? Maybe you’ll get lucky.”
He pauses for dramatic effect, clearly reveling in the chaos he’s causing. Then, just when I think he can’t make it worse, he adds with a wink, “Or, you know, we could always leave the light on. I hear ghosts are terrified of lamps.”
“Hilarious,” I deadpan, though I’m fighting the urge to laugh because his smug delivery is infuriatingly perfect. “Well, you’re the one who has to deal with me now.”
“You’re telling me that outgoing, outrageous, little Miss Sunshine is afraid of ghosts?”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t completely hide the nervous laugh that escapes me. “I’m not afraid of ghosts,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel. “I just…respect them. And tonight, they’re definitely earning my respect.”
He laughs that deep, teasing chuckle that makes my stomach do flips. “So, you’re telling me that if a ghost knocked on the door right now, you wouldn’t be like, ‘Hey, come on in, I’ve got snacks!’”
I glare at him, even though my heart is racing in that ridiculous way it does when I’m caught somewhere between wanting to slap him and kiss him senseless.
“I’d offer them some cookies,” I say. “But only if they promise to stop whispering in my ear. And maybe stay on the other side of the room, please.”
“You’re something else.” He smirks. “Have I mentioned that I’d like to keep you around? Because if I haven’t, I definitely would.”
Great, now I’m internally swooning. Perfect.
I force myself to sound unaffected, but inside, I’m a total mess. Pull it together, Bree. “Oh, you’d like to keep me around, huh?” I tease, trying to keep my voice light. “And here I thought I was just a temporary distraction.”
He doesn’t miss a beat. He leans in a fraction closer, making sure every word hits exactly where he wants them to. His eyes lock onto mine, suddenly serious, and it makes my breath hitch in my throat.
“You’re far more than that, Sunshine. I hope you know that by now.”
And just like that, I forget how to form a coherent thought. What is it about this man that makes everything happen in slow motion? He’s got this way of turning everything into something too real, and now I’m stuck between wanting to melt into it and run for the hills.
I’ve spent so long keeping everything at arm’s length, and here he is, crashing through every wall I’ve built with nothing but a few words.
“Callan, I…” My words get stuck in my throat, tangled up in everything I’m too scared to say. What can I even say? That I’m falling for him harder than I ever thought possible? That the thought of leaving in a few days is tearing me apart?
The words don’t come, not the ones I need, anyway. Not even close. So, I do what I’ve done more than once around him. I lean in, my lips finding his, hoping that this kiss will do what my voice can’t.
His hands grip my hips, pulling me closer, and I can feel every inch of him.
His lips are soft but insistent, and when his tongue meets mine, it’s slow and careful, like he’s making sure I feel it.
Really feel it. And I do. Every second. Every move.
This is everything I can’t say, everything I’m terrified of admitting, wrapped up in one small moment of intimacy and the way he holds me.
I could try to make sense of it. I could tell myself it’s just chemistry or a distraction, but with his lips on mine, I know that’s not true.
I melt into him as the kiss deepens, turning desperate and urgent, like we both know we don’t have time to waste.
His hands traipse down my back, slipping under my ass.
In one smooth motion, he lifts me effortlessly.
The sudden closeness, and the strength in his grip, sends a jolt of electricity through me.
My pulse spikes, racing to keep up with everything he’s making me feel.
My legs wrap instinctively around his waist, my body responding to his every move and every shift. There’s no space between us and absolutely no hesitation. Just heat and everything I’ve been fighting to keep locked up letting loose in the form of a kiss that says everything.
He carries me to his bed, not breaking the kiss for a second. My hands grip his shoulders as he moves, his body pressing against mine in all the right ways.
When we finally reach the edge of the bed, he lays me down gently, almost as if he’s afraid I’ll break, unsure of how far to push, of what I want and what I need.
There’s a tenderness in the way he moves, like he’s reading me and waiting for my cue.
His body covers mine, all heat and muscle, his hard length pressing against my thigh.
My breath hitches, and I fight the sudden, uncomfortable surge of panic bubbling up from my stomach.
I’ve dreamed about him above me and how it might feel to have him this close. Now that it’s real, it’s almost overwhelming. His body is warm and hard, pressing me into the bed, and for a brief, terrifying second, it feels like I’m trapped.
Not by him. He’s not doing anything wrong, but by the sudden rush of panic clawing up my throat, fast and ruthless.
No, no, no. God damn it, not again.
My mind scrambles, trying to reconcile the fantasy with the reality. I want this. I want him. Still, my body doesn’t trust that I’m safe yet.
Why am I scared?
Because I’ve only ever been with one person.
Because that person was supposed to protect me, and he didn’t.
And now, even though Callan’s touch is careful and his eyes are kind, my body still hesitates.