Images from that night haunt me. The rain-soaked roads, the red lights and the sound of metal hitting metal invade my thoughts. I panicked and drove off like a coward at Talia’s instruction.
Every time she looks at me with trust in her eyes, every time she lets me touch her, I feel that truth burn a little hotter beneath my skin.
She shifts again, eyelids fluttering open, and when she sees me watching her, her whole face softens. “Morning,” she murmurs, her voice still wrapped in sleep.
I brush a strand of hair from her cheek. “Morning, beautiful.” She blushes instantly. I swear I’d spend the rest of my life chasing that look on her face.
Her phone buzzes on the bedside table. She reaches for it, yawning, but I already know what she’s about to see. Talia’s latest obsession with dragging Rose into the spotlight has taken a turn overnight with thinly-veiled digs, half-truths, and pictures meant to stir shit that isn’t even there.
Rose’s brows pinch the moment she unlocks her screen.
I sit up, putting my hand on her thigh. “Before you read anything, remember PR has got this handled. You don’t need to worry. They said they’d monitor everything, and they meant it.”
“I know,” she whispers, though there’s still a crease between her brows. “It’s not that I’m scared of the posts. I just don’t get why she’s doing this. I mean I’m not the reason you two split up.”
“Because she lost,” I say simply, tipping her chin up. “Because you’re the one I want. Because you’re the one I choose.”
Her breath stutters, and she leans into my hand. That’s all it takes for want to kick hard in my chest. It’s a physical ache that’s sharp and immediate. I slide my hand behind her back and pull her onto my lap.
She gasps softly, hands splaying over my shoulders. “Callum…”
“I’m not letting her or anyone else make you feel small,” I say, my voice raw with need. “And I don’t want you worrying about her for a second. I want you thinking about me.”
“Just you?” she asks, pretending innocence but already shifting against me in a way that makes my pulse punch.
“Yeah,” I murmur against her throat. “Just me.”
Her fingers curl in my hair, tugging, and the sound she makes when I nip at her pulse nearly knocks the air out of my lungs.
She whispers, “Kiss me,” and the last thread of restraint snaps.
I flip her beneath me, her gasp breaking into a breathless laugh as I slide down her body, kissing, tasting, memorising every inch. She arches when my mouth finds the inside of her thigh, one hand gripping the sheets, the other fisting in my hair. I look up at her from between her legs and the expression on her face is open and needy, trusting, and it hits me harder than any hit I’ve taken on the ice.
“Callum… please.” The way she says my name ruins me.
I drag my mouth over her slowly, teasing her until she’s trembling, begging, nearly crying with how badly she wants it. When she finally comes apart under my tongue, gripping my shoulders like she might fly away without me holding her down, it feels as though my heart is going to burst out of my chest.
I kiss my way back up her body, slow and deliberate, like I’m worshipping her. Maybe I am. When I slide into her, she wraps around me as though she was made for me, she’s pulling me deeper, closer, needing me the way I need her.
It’s slow and messy and desperate. Her nails rake down my back, her lips find mine over and over, and when she comes again with a broken moan, I follow, burying my face in her neck, because if I look at her while I fall apart, I might actually tell her everything.
And I can’t lose her. Not now. Not when she feels like home.
She strokes her fingers through my hair when we’re done, both of us breathless and clinging to each other, afraid to let go. “You okay?” she whispers.
Better than okay. Terrified. Hopelessly in love. Hiding a truth that could break her. I cup her cheek and kiss her softly. “Never better.”
Her stomach growls and she covers her face, laughing, as I press a kiss to her shoulder before I pull back. “I need to tell you something,” I say before I can stop myself.
She lowers her hands, eyes wide. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing bad,” I lie, because the truth is a wrecking ball aimed right at us. “I’m going to start looking for a new flat. I don’t want to stay in the team one anymore. I want a clean slate. Somewhere I choose for myself. I’m only here because I didn’t have an option when I walked out of Talia’s flat.”
Her whole expression melts. “You don’t have to do that because of me.”
“I’m doing it because of me,” I say, brushing my thumb along her jaw. “Because I want something different now. Better. That’s the direction I’m going.”
She swallows, her eyes shining in that way that tells me she feels everything I do, even if neither of us has said the words yet.
