A light bulb goes off in my head, and I run back into the training centre, hurrying to the locker room and grabbing my kilt and boots out of my locker. I briefly consider changing right then and there, but there’s no way I’m jogging across the training centre in a kilt. Instead, I tuck it under my arm and sprint back to my car, where I take off my trainers, wiggle out of my joggers, and put the kilt and boots on. Then, I slam my foot on the gas pedal and drive to her place, pushing the speed limit.
Unfortunately, I hit all the red lights, get stuck behind a garbage truck, and have to let a group of old ladies shuffle past at a crosswalk, but I finally get there.
Her car is parked along the curb, tiny, black, and sad, as usual. I find a spot around the corner and take off running, boots pounding the pavement, kilt flapping in the wind. People give me side eyes and double takes, but I ignore them. I just hope—and pray—that this works.
The front doorof the building is open, so I zip inside and jog up the stairs to the second floor. Pausing on the landing, I take off my coat, straighten my white T-shirt that’s tucked under my kilt, and ring her doorbell.
When the door swings open, my chest tightens.
Her eyes seem smaller, the light in them dimmer than usual, and she’s holding a tub of ice cream. She blinks in confusion. “Callum?”
“Relationships aren’t my thing, Millie,” I blurt without introduction, and she frowns. I rush to add, “Butyouare. You’re more than I could ever deserve. You’re light, you’re joy, and I’d be a fool if I didn’t want everything with you.”
Her frown gradually transforms into a faint smile. “Really?”
I step closer. “Of course. You caught me off guard earlier. I didn’t know what to say, and to be honest, I still don’t. But I’m telling you now that I’m absolutely crazy for you. I can only hope that you’ll let me try to be worthy of you.”
Her smile widens, the light in her eyes flickering back to life as she sets the ice cream down on the entryway console table. “You already are. You’re all those things too, Callum—light, joy.”
I raise a brow. “I’m really not.”
“You are!” she insists, placing her hands on my chest. I cover them with mine. “You’re a good man, you care about people, and you’re dedicated. Okay, maybe you’re a little stubborn too, but I love that about you.”
I laugh, my heart soaring. “And I, about you. You’re definitely more stubborn than I am, Millie Templeton.”
“Well, maybe we can be stubborn together, then?”
“I can agree to that,” I say, pulling her against me. Her arms loop around my neck, and I lift her off the ground, kissing her with everything I’ve got—relief, joy, need. Her lips are soft and familiar. Perfect. Like home.
When we finally break apart, I rest my forehead against hers. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I got scared.”
“It’s okay,” she whispers.
After a moment, she steps back, eyeing me from head to toe. “I can’t say I’m mad about any of this.”
“You really like the kilt, don’t you?” I chuckle, tugging her close again.
She nods, a grin dancing on her lips. “It’s staying, right?”
“Oh yeah. I’ll wear it every day if I have to.”
“In that case,” she says, brushing a kiss against my lips, “you and I are going to be together for a long, long time.”
Chapter 26
Four months later
Millie
The quaint Italian restaurant smells just like it did on our first date—warm bread, garlic, and comfort. Only this time, my stomach is twisting, because I’m about to face my biggest challenge yet. Meeting Callum’s parents. We’ve been trying to meet up for a couple of months now, but something always came up. At last, they’ve made it to London.
The host leads us past trailing vines and tablecloths washed in golden candlelight to a big round table tucked in the corner. Callum squeezes my hand under the table when we sit, his thumb brushing reassuring circles against my palm, but my pulse still flutters.
“Ah, here they are,” he says, standing up.
A woman with dark hair swept into a neat bun and a warm smile is walking toward us. Beside her is a tall man with kind eyes and the same broad-shouldered build as Callum.
“This is my mum, Moira, and my dad, Douglas.” The soft lilt of Callum’s accent deepens just a touch.
