I tap her nose, then slide my hands into my pockets. “You’re cute when you’re mad. Like one of those fluffy red pandas.”
“Your mouth is gonna get you in trouble one of these days.”
I take one measured step toward her. “Why don’t you ask me what else this mouth can do, Callie baby?”
She rolls her eyes and chews on the inside of her cheek. “You’re insufferable.”
“What’s that? I’m adorable? That’s so sweet.”
She walks away in a huff, and I’m not too proud to admit that I take her in from every angle until she’s safely behind closed doors. She’s a goddamn temptation. Moving her here might’ve been a grave mistake on my part.
Tripp releases Callie’s car from the flatbed and tosses me the keys. “Good to go.”
“Thanks, man.”
We exchange numbers with the empty promise to join him for a drink sometime. I send him on his way with an extra tip, but there’s no way in hell I’m taking him up on that.Those memories and the people associated with them can stay in the past where they belong. I have no desire to relive them.
Chapter 9
Arm’s Reach
? No Complaints - Noah Kahan
Callie
Pickles aregreat until you’re in one.
How the hell did I get myself into this situation? One minute I’m sleeping in my car, and the next I’m moving in with Jaxon fucking Hayes.
I leave him behind to deal with the tow and head inside. The whole place smells like him, mixed with a subtle undercurrent of earth and cedar. The interior is beautiful, with slanted wood paneled ceilings and warm decorative accents. To the left of the entry, there’s a large metal staircase leading to an upstairs loft. I feel tiny standing beneath the high ceilings.
Straight ahead is an expansive living area with a large stone fireplace that immediately draws the eye. A brown leather sectional sits across from the floor-to-ceiling windows, and an oversized armchair and ottoman are angled toward the fire. I trail my fingers along the bank of bookshelves. Some of thespines are cracked from repeated use, while others are in pristine condition.
I pick up one particularly well-loved copy of The Hobbit, scanning the annotated pages. His handwriting is neater than I expected. I replace the book on the shelf and peer out the window. I can vividly picture myself here on a perfect rainy day with a steaming cup of tea and a smutty romance novel.
Something foreign stirs in my chest—something I refuse to give voice to. I can’t stay here forever. Nothing is permanent, not for me. I’d like to think there’s a simple life waiting for me at the end of all of the hardship, but hope is fleeting, and I’ve learned to temper my expectations.
The vision dissolves as reality sinks in. I won’t be living here alone. I have a roommate now, and I have no idea how to share a space with someone. Does he expect me to clean up after him? I guess it’s the least I could do if I’m not paying rent. And what about groceries? Oh god, what if Jaxon wants to bring someone home? My thoughts spiral until I’m drowning.
I rush back to the porch and suck in a lungful of fresh air as I sink onto the top step. A fresh wave of sadness and uncertainty hits me for the first time since the fire. It’s like my mind is only now catching up to everything I’ve been through.
I don’t cry.
Inevercry.
Not anymore. Tears are a sign of weakness.
I glance out over the serene moonlit landscape as the distant sound of a horse’s whinny reaches my ears. A calm settles over me. There’s a comforting stillness here—something I’ve never had the privilege to experience before now.
For as long as I can remember, survival has always come at the expense of comfort. I made a home wherever I could find it. Eventually, I got used to the crappy low-rise apartment withlittle more than a street view and a small patch of grass near the parking lot. I thought I was finally getting my fresh start.
Then I lost that, too.
My throat constricts against the sudden onslaught of emotion. For the first time in… I don't know how long… something settles within me. I can breathe here, completely unencumbered.
I don’t deserve it, but I won’t take a single moment for granted. Maybe someday I'll finally be able to stop running. But for now, Whispering Oaks Ranch is my home, however temporary.
Jaxon
