He regarded me for a moment before saying, "You wouldn't be thinking this hard if you didn't want the show to go on." He nodded, pleased with his assessment, and winked at me. "It's gonna last."
Because there were small miracles in this big world, the driver pulled to a stop at McKendrick's sprawling mansion. Another five minutes and I would've spilled the whole mess I'd made with Cal. Wanting him but not wanting him on my calendar because he'd never slide into that slot. Wanting him but not wanting the deep, all-encompassing relationship he offered. The one he craved. Wanting him and not being able to send him away, forcing him to do it instead.
That part was the worst of it. Cal's adoration was a drug to which I was already addicted. Even if I knew it was wrong, even if I knew I couldn't keep it, even if I knew it wouldn't last. And that was why I had to give him the scissors and force him to cut the cord.
"It looks like we're here," I sang. "My assistant will pick you up for your appearances tomorrow. Sleep tight."
The driver opened McKendrick's door and he stepped out. "It's gonna last," he called to me. "I'm gonna dust off my dance moves for you, lady."
It was toolate to change the sheets or start a load of laundry when I got home, and without that part of the back-from-business-travel protocol in place, I forgot to shower before flopping into bed. I scanned my calendar from under the covers, looking only for critical events and deadlines.
I noticed Harry's name later in the week. Deleted it. I promised myself I'd shoot him a text in the morning. I had a policy against texting after midnight. Even if I was texting to cancel on him, a one a.m. text screamed "thinking about you while in bed!" and I didn't want to go there. Instead, I set my phone in its charging cradle and burrowed under my blankets.
The next morning, it took me a solid minute to figure out where I was when I woke up. That sumbitch McKendrick. Fucking up all my systems.
I threw on a workout top and a pair of running tights that seemed mostly clean, didn't bother fixing the ponytail I'd slept in, and left the house without tying my shoelaces. I was groggy as hell and cursed myself for my strict adherence to routine. It was a good problem but it was still a problem. Once I got into a habit, breaking it was damn near impossible.
Thank god I'd never tried hard drugs.
As I maneuvered into a parking spot near the trailhead, I found myself staring at Cal's SUV. It was such a shock, I nearly backed into the car behind me. I'd spent the past few days convincing myself he wasn't coming. Of course he wasn't.
And yet here he was.
I stole a moment to fix my hair and run some tinted balm over my lips but that was the best I could do. "This is going to be great," I announced to my empty vehicle. "A nice morning. A good walk. Maybe a conversation with a man-brick. All good. It doesn't matter that I have nothing planned because I promised myself he wouldn't come here after that shit show in front of his apartment but it's going to be great. No worries."
Blowing out a breath, I forced myself out of the car and onto the trail. I found him just beyond the park gates, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared out at the pond. If I was in the business of staging advertising photo shoots, the picture in front of me would've sold a million pairs of track pants, running shoes, form-fitting shirts, anything. Anything, this portrait of quiet strength would've sold it.
As I neared, Cal glanced over his shoulder. A smile pulled at his lips and he turned, but he didn't approach me. No, that was on me. He'd done his part. He came and now it was up to me.
"Hi," I said, stepping closer to him.
"Hi," he answered.
I started to wave but that gesture morphed into me opening my arms and wrapping them around Cal. Yep, I hugged him. I was hugging him. I was letting him hug me back.
That wasn't true. It wasn't a hug. It was an embrace like long-lost lovers and sex with your pants on. It was fingertips digging into skin, digging,digging. It was sucking in a lungful of manly pine trees and needing another hit. It was sighing at the feel of his hands on my waist, his chest under my cheek, his lips on my hair. It was the best thing I'd experienced in days and I could stay right here, just like this.
And that was why I broke out of his hold and rubbed my palms together. I was plenty warm but I needed something to do, somewhere to put all this energy. "It's good to see you," I said, hazarding a glance at him.
"I could say the same to you," Cal replied with a chuckle. "How was Los Angeles? Did everything go as planned? Did you slay?"
I thought about his question for a moment, the automatic slide back into comfortable territory. "Let's walk," I said, pointing down the trail. "I had an issue with a client last night and didn't get home until much later than intended so I really need to get moving if this day has any hope of staying on track."
Cal nodded, gesturing for me to lead the way. Once we got into a brisk pace, he asked, "An issue with McKendrick?"
I barked out a humorless laugh. "Seems like I didn't clean things up as well as I thought I did if you heard about his night on the town."
"I wouldn't jump to that conclusion," he said easily. "I haven't looked at the news today. It was a guess."
We continued along, silent for several minutes. When I couldn't take it anymore, I jabbed my finger into the hard stone of his bicep and blurted out, "You don't like ice cream."
Cal stopped but I didn't realize it until I glanced over and found him ten feet behind me. "Did you figure that out right now?" he asked. "Or did you know that night?"
I pivoted, traveled back to him. "I knew that night," I said. "When you suggested we share but didn't eat one bite."
"Maybe I was being generous," he argued, his eyes hard. "Letting you have both since you clearly enjoyed them."
"Maybe you were," I replied. "But I don't think that's the case. I think you let me believe you liked ice cream because I'd already announced it as one of my favorite food groups."
