I faltered, sucking in a painful breath.
Hehadmade love to me.
I didn’t imagine that.
Why?
Why did he do that if I meant nothing?
I hated him.
He was a shagging, messed-up, broken wee fuck boy, and I was better?—
I stumbled as I reached the landing.
Callan sat slumped at my front door, his elbows to his knees, his head bowed in his hands.
My pulse raced.
He lifted his head and the anguish in his gaze threatened to take me down. “Did you sleep with him?” he asked, his voice rough around the words.
Indignation straightened my back as I slowly moved toward him. “Jealous?”
Callan’s huff of laughter was bitter and hoarse. “Jealous?” he whispered.
That’s when I saw the sheen in his eyes.
Tears.
Oh my God.
My legs shook.
“It’s more than jealousy, Beth,” he hissed. He pressed a fist to his stomach. “I feel like my fucking guts are being ripped out.”
With my legs ready to buckle and hope ballooning too big and overwhelming in my chest, I lowered to my knees before him, uncaring if my dress got dirty.
Our eyes held, his pleading.
“I didn’t sleep with him. I didn’t even kiss him.”
Callan squeezed his eyes shut as he rested his head back against my door and a tear leaked free.
“Callan?”
“You … you terrify me.” He finally opened his eyes. “You have me in the palms of your fucking hands.”
Relief bubbled up and over, my tears springing free. I swiped at them as I promised, “You have me in yours.”
“Do I?”
“You know you do.”
“Why did you go on a date?”
“Because in order to get through the past week, I’ve been walking through life like I was on Novocain. It was Erstwhile. I wanted a business meeting with him, and he asked me to thisbenefit instead. I said yes. Then I saw you … and I remembered my heart was broken. So I asked Iain to bring me home.”
Callan cursed and reached out to take my hand. My fingers instinctually curled around his. It felt so good. Like a piece of me clicking back into place.
