He finally obliged. And naked before him, I did my best not to sob. But as he shrugged off his jacket and undid his shirt, I saw the body he’d built while I was gone. I saw his carved chest and the lines of his abs a hundred times deeper than the last time I’d seen them. He looked so distinctly different and so strikingly beautiful it hurt. Ink coiled and lashed over his smooth skin, curling around his thick biceps and forearms. It was completely unfamiliar. Once upon a time, I’d been the only tattoo on his body.
“Lift your arm, Callum.” My voice trembled hard. I hated how it sounded, hated that it would only sound worse once I confirmed it. The tears spilled when I did.
While I’d turned the “C” on my rib to his full name, he’d had my “L” covered up completely. Turned it into a set of Roman numerals to effectively erase me. Eradicate any signs of me from his body. I proudly had the scar on my hip, the tattoo on my rib. Callum had nothing and he had nothing for me as I cried in front of him. For once, he was able to stand there, firmly unaffected by my despair. The back of my wrist tried shutting up the pathetic sounds coming out of my mouth. But it failed. It wasn’t just the ink now, it was everything – every hurt and ache and fruitless fight of the past six years hurling at me like rocks. The pain of the needle all those years ago was nothing compared to what I felt now.
“Lake,” Callum finally started but I didn’t want to hear it.
“I need to go to sleep,” I exhaled fast.
I was sinking into that quicksand again, returning to that dark place where it was true – where I was worthless. A burden and a curse who loved people more than they ever loved me. As I followed Callum to my room, I tried to tell myself to sleep it off. That I was fine and I somehow had the strength in my fractured heart to do this – to stay not just in New York but in the home of the man who’d gladly forgotten me when I only lived because of his memory.
Chapter Seven
Callum
Heads up Theo’s looking for her.
Logan’s 7AM text made for a sufficiently rude awakening. I’d fallen asleep just a half hour before, having tossed and turned all night like a restless grab bag of guilt, fury and irritation. I hated seeing her cry. I hated that I was the reason for her tears. I loathed myself for being an unfeeling prick yet I indulged myself in jerking off to the memory of how she stripped down naked for me. From head to toe, Lake was the most beautiful thing I’d ever laid eyes on and I couldn’t stop wondering who’d been lucky enough to touch her in the years she was gone. I wondered if he had treated her right and I knew that whatever job he’d done with pleasing her, I could’ve done it a thousand times better. It took hours for my blood to stop rushing, for my cock and my mind to come down enough to get some rest.
But then Logan’s text came and I was wide-awake and seething. I jumped out of bed, suddenly compelled to make sure Lake was still safely tucked in her bed in my guest room. My heart jumped damned near out of my chest when I opened the door to see her bed empty. But then I heard the water running downstairs in the kitchen.
I found Lake there in the T-shirt I’d given her to sleep in. I watched from the top of the stairs as she stood before my glass-front fridge, staring at the contents that I had neatly lined up like inanimate soldiers. She kept grabbing the handle of the door only to let it go, over and over without opening the fridge though I knew she was desperate to eat. She used to bounce on her toes and sigh when she was hungry. Apparently, she still did.
“You’re kidding me, right?” I finally asked, making her jump. She spun around and looked all over before finding me at the top of the steps. Her morning hair was so fucking sexy it was annoying.
“What?”
I got down there and started the espresso machine. “Take what you want. Since when were you apologetic about that?”
Falling quiet, she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I don’t live here, Callum. This isn’t my home. My grandma and your mother raised me so I do know what manners are and I’m pretty sure you don’t just go taking things that aren’t yours.”
“That’s rich coming from you.”
Her shoulders slumped. I expected her to retort with something smart but she said nothing. I was almost disappointed.
“Lake. I’m giving you permission to eat whatever you want in my kitchen.”
“Thank you.”
The quiet relief with which she spun around and opened my fridge actually depressed me. Drinking my coffee, I watched, predicting she’d go straight for the Fage. She did. Peeled it and gave one clean lick of the yogurt stuck to the top before tossing the wrapper in the trash. Some things never change.
“What?” She frowned when I smirked.
I ignored her question. I grabbed my coffee then slid a spoon across the table. “To counter what you said before, you do live here.”
“Right. But it’s not my home.”
“And why do you say that.”
She paused, looking at me with true confusion. “I… don’t pay rent here?”
“Neither do I. I own.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s great, Callum, and not my point. I mean I live here in the same way I’d live in a hotel on vacation. I would be staying there, it would be my home base for that time, but it wouldn’t be my home. The same way this is not my home.”
I laughed without smiling. “So you have intentions of leaving.” I took a drink. “Again.”
She was instantly defensive. “No, I – ”
“If you’re not going anywhere else, you’re not living with anyone else. I’m the closest person to you in this city and this is as permanent of a situation as you’re going to have. You’re moving in and you’ll be living with me. Unless you have other preferences, that’s what I’ve decided.” My morning had been sleepless but not unproductive. I leaned against the counter and studied the way she slowly wet her lips. “Would you like to consider this your home?”
She didn’t answer right away, playing with the neck of her T-shirt. Rather, my T-shirt. My favorite one that she was actively stretching the collar of but I let her do it. “Yes,” she finally muttered. “More than anything.”
“Then it’s settled,” I said. She nodded but sucked in her bottom lip, which meant she was being quiet about something. I rolled my eyes. “Lake, whatever you’re thinking, just say it, for Christ’s sake.”
She exhaled hard and put her food down. “Fine. What is this?”
“Yogurt.”
“Not that, Callum.” I laughed inwardly, taking too much pleasure in the way her voice sounded between her gritted teeth. “This. Me living here. This being my home. We have a history I can’t exactly put into words but I would go as far as to say that we were romantic so, what, are we together right now? Am I going to be sleeping in that room and listening to you bring other girls home and fuck them down the hall from me or are we trying to do something here? The two of us?”
I took a moment, soaking in the sudden heat that flushed her gorgeous face. I hadn’t expected for her to snap back as quickly and truthfully as she did but I liked it. It was the Lake I knew and it made me want to grab her and suck her bottom lip into my mouth. It also made me wish I had some sort of clean-cut answer for her. But there was none. “I hadn’t put much planning into that aspect.”
She shot daggers. “Christ, Callum, talk to me like I’m a person, not a business pitch. I know you grew up and got all fancy while I was gone but I’m still me. I do recall proving that to you yesterday.”
I glared but otherwise didn’t show my irritation at her accusing tone. “I answered you as truthfully as I could, Lake,” I replied. “Plain and simple, I didn’t think about it. What I thought about was making sure you had a good, comfortable place to stay. I thought about what a piece of shit I felt like for making you cry. I thought about how fucking beautiful you were and how much I missed every inch of you. That it was probably pointless for me to try and ignore you or resist you.” I took a sick satisfaction in how instantly quiet she went, how she shrunk back when I stepped forward. I spoke slowly, evenly, watching my every word sink into her skin. “Trust me. I’m still pissed at you. I still hate with all my heart that you’re keeping these secrets about why you left and where you went. But it’s physically impossible for me not to care about you when I know you’re back and close enough to me that I can touch you if I want, so this is where we’re at, Lake. You’re living here, I know you’re safe, I know you’re provided for and I’m ‘actively trying’ like you asked me to. I’m trying to get us back to us but I don’t know exactly how that works and unless I’m mistaken, neither do you, so I’d venture a guess and say that this is called taking it a day at a time.”