“That’s not it,” I rush to explain. “It’s just… You handle everything so effortlessly. I don’t want to be the one who drags you down with my mess.”
For a second, I think he’s going to snap, but when he speaks, his voice is calm. I should know better.
“Bree, you’re not a burden. You’re never a mess to me. Don’t shut me out. Don’t think I’m too…whateverto care.”
He reaches over and his fingers brush mine, and god, I needed that. The second our skin touches, that familiar warmth spreads through me, silencing the chaos in my mind. He tightens his grip on my hand. “I wantallof you. Good, bad, and everything in between.”
I take a shaky breath. “I don’t usually let people in like that,” I confess. “I kind of just…deal with it myself.”
“Not anymore, you don’t,” he says firmly. “If you’re scared, tell me. If you’re sad, angry, hell, if you hate my guts,tell me.”
I don’t stand a chance against this man. He’s out here saying all the right things, holding my hand like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever touched and looking at me like I hung the damn moon.
I should probably say something deep and meaningful to match, but my brain? Useless. All thanks to that ridiculous accent that turns my insides to mush.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Aye?”
“Yes,aye.” I smirk.
He exhales slowly, his voice dropping lower. “I’m terrified, too, Sunshine. Don’t think for a second I’m not. I just wanted to make you smile one more time before I have to watch you walk away.”
Oh, come on. That’s not fair. How am I supposed to keep it together when he says things like that? I’m seconds away from throwing myself at him and ugly crying into his shirt.
And then, as if he can sense I’m teetering on the edge, he tilts his head, his lips twitching. “So, did we just have our first fight?” he asks. “Is this where we kiss and make up?”
The tension around us splinters, cracking wide enough for something softer to slip through, and I let out a laugh. “Yeah, yeah. I guess so.”
twenty
CALLAN
The sound of gloves hitting heavy bags, the rhythmic pounding of feet against the canvas, it’s all music to my ears. The gym’s air is thick with sweat and leather, and it’s exactly the kind of atmosphere I need right now. A place to work out the chaos and focus on nothing but the next punch.
Goddamn it.I’m an idiot. She’s right. I suck at feelings. I can handle chaos, but emotions? That’s the part I’ve never quite figured out how to fix or finesse, and now I’m sitting here with the echo of her footsteps fading into the airport, and this fucking ache behind my ribs that won’t let up.
Because she’s gone. I know it’s just for now but still. I let her walk away without being the guy she needed me to be.
It’s not just that I miss her already. It’s that I wanted her to know she could lean on me. That I’d show up. That I’d stand in the damn storm if it meant shielding her for even one second. But I didn’t say that.
Instead, I gave her half of what she deserved. Played it cool when everything in me wanted to grab her hand and tell her she’s not alone anymore.
I want to be better for her because this isn’t just some passing fling for me. This is her. Bree. And she’s got this way of laughing and looking at me like I might actually be worth something.
I drag in a breath that scarcely fills my lungs. Still tight. Still heavy. Letting her go without telling her how much she matters? That’s a mistake I can feel down to my damn bones.
I need to drown out these thoughts.
Adrenaline’s the answer. That rush, that raw energy that pushes everything else out of my mind. I just need to chase it. I need to move and get out of my head before it consumes me completely.
Drew, the owner of the gym and an old friend who’s seen me at both my best and worst, spots me the second I walk in, a shit-eating grin already plastered on his face. “Long time, no see, killer.” He tosses me a pair of gloves from the shelf.
I catch them without missing a beat, slipping them on and letting my fingers curl into the padding. “Yeah, I’ve been busy trying not to make an arse of myself,” I mutter, already moving toward the bag. I don’t need to say much more. My body remembers the rhythm, and I’m itching to get into it.
He just raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained by my tone. “You know the drill, man. Don’t half arse it. The bag isn’t gonna hit back.”
I roll my neck, giving it a few cracks for good measure. “You know, Drew, Ireallywish it would. Might make this a bit more interesting.”
