Callum clicks a button on a small device clipped to his sun visor, and the iron gate blocking the rest of the drive swings open smoothly. I look over at him in confusion, and he just has a coy grin plastered on his face.
I look back out of the windows, taking in the Sweet Bay Magnolias that line the long driveway. I wonder how beautiful they look in fullbloom. The grass is freshly cut, the smell permeating the air. The large fountain is the centerpiece of a large roundabout, with the driveway splitting to different buildings on the property. Water cascades from the top, sparkling in the moonlight. Then I see it. The most beautiful home I’d ever laid my eyes on.
It’s an old Victorian-style home, just like the home I’d envisioned for myself my entire life. Just like the home we’d talked about living in together years ago. The steeply pitched roofs, pointed arched windows, dark brick, and wrought iron accents pull me in, giving a Gothic Revival feel. The dark siding and dark green accents were not completely visible, but the gold hanging lanterns lit portions of the house, allowing me to see more as we got closer. Callum pulls the car gently around it and comes to a stop right in front of a stone staircase leading to the front door.
Callum quickly jumps out of the car and hurries around to my side, opening my door for me. He grabs my hand and leads me up the stairs, the dark brick matching the vibe of the house. He fishes a set of keys out of his pocket. He unlocks the heavy, dark wooden door with beveled glass panels, flanked by more gas lanterns, and an antique brass knocker matching the handle.
He pauses for a moment before opening the door, looking back at me with a hopeful expression. The foyer is stunning. I peer up at the antique brass chandelier set in between a double staircase leading up to a second-floor hallway connecting both ends of the home. There are dark hardwood floors, velvety wallpaper with damask patterns covering the walls, and ornate crown molding wrapping around the entire room.
I turn to Callum, who is now leaning against the front door frame, his hands in his pockets and a bright smile on his face. But there’s hesitance in his eyes.
It makes me ask, “Is this yours?”
He straightens and walks over to me as I look around, taking the space in once again.This is stunning.He steps into my space, causing my insides to tighten, not in fear, but in desire. I wanted him to be standing this close to me. Closer, even.
“Ours.”
“Ours? But when… how… I don’t…” I trail off.
“Well, ours if you’d like to stay here with me. I know you must be ready to get out from under Cormac,” he says, a timid smile on his face. “And, I know that living alone might not be the safest option, or even what you want, considering…”
He looks at me meaningfully, and I nod. I understand his meaning perfectly.
“It’s time for me to fly the nest too, you know,” he says a little too casually, breaking eye contact with me and strolling around the foyer. “I’ve been living at my parents’ estate long enough. So, now that we’re… friends… I figured that maybe we could, you know, be roommates—”
I slam my lips into his, cutting him off and making him take a small step back to catch his balance. His hands find my hips, and I can feel the smile on his lips. A chuckle rumbles deeply in his chest before he wraps his arms around me completely.My skin tingling at every point of contact.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says, pulling back to look down at me.He tucks a stray hair behind my ear.
I’m so surprised that I just hold his face in my hands, staring into those blue eyes I’ve missed so much. After all these years, he still knows me so well. He knows that I want independence from my father. I know that I’m still too shaken up to live on my own. And he did all of this… for me. I feel another wave of shame wash over me as I remember how he tried so hard to explain himself nine years ago. But I just ignored him. I let him go because of my pride.
It’s all too much. A shadow of concern passes over Callum’s features, and he places a gentle palm on both my cheeks.
“Hey, hey, hey. None of that right now, okay?”
“But, I lost nine years with you.”
“Look, Maeve,” he says, gesturing behind him at the beautiful home. “Let’s not focus on the past, not right now. Okay? We have tomorrow, and every day after, so let’s just be in this moment now.”
He kisses me on the forehead and grabs my hand, leading me up the stairs past multiple rooms so quickly that I don’t have time to see inside. Just blurs of rich wood and high ceilings. He pauses in front of the only closed door in the hall, excitement and expectation radiating from him. But suddenly, a series of flashbacks wash over me like a tidal wave, rapid and unexpected. The smell of cheap beer in the air. A closed door. A darkened bedroom. Nessa straddling Callum’s lap.
I shake my head, trying to clear the images away. I don’t want Callum to notice my reaction and start asking questions. He grabs my shoulders and places me in front of the solid wooden door.
“Close your eyes,” he whispers into my ear.
I smile and obey, then I hear the door swing open. Callum gently guides me forward into the room with another whisper, “Not yet.”
He closes the door behind us, then says, “Okay, open.”
Holy. Shit.
Bookcases cover every single wall, floor to ceiling. The shelves are ebony-stained wood with a satin sheen, and carved crown moldings encircle the space. There are fluted columns and corbels, and a rolling ladder on a brass rail that goes all the way around the room. I’m standing in the middle of the space, turning in a circle slowly, but I stop when I’m facing the French doors. They’re covered in intricate, wrought iron floral details from the top to the bottom of the glass, and beyond them, I can see a spacious balcony overlooking the sweeping back lawn.
I turn the cool brass handle and step out onto the balcony. I smile as I realize that it faces west, which means I could sit out here and watch the sunsets.
I walk to the railing and look down at a lush, beautiful garden. There are boxwood hedges, wrought iron fencing, and climbing ivy. There are gravel paths winding through rose bushes and night-blooming flowers. Gas-lamp lanterns cast low, warm light along the paths. I feel my breath catch.
I turn to see Callum standing in the middle of the room, hands in his pockets, looking apprehensive. He’s biting the inside of his cheek with a tight smile. I walk over to him slowly.
