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I stride away from his apartment, my footsteps echoing too loudly in the quiet night. I don’t even know where I’m going, but I can’t stay there, not with the way my heart’s still racing, not with the embarrassment burning hot under my skin.
The worst part is, a tiny, traitorous slice of my soul had fluttered at his words, at the idea of being close to him in a way I’ve only dared to imagine. But despite it all, that’s never the way I wanted things to change between us.
Not on a whim, not on a misguided offer of charity sex. Not after all this time apart.
Back when we were close, I’d always thought Callum knew me better than anyone, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe this time apart has turned us into real strangers. The kind who can’t reconnect over one simple night together.
The kind who can no longer tell where the lines are drawn.
As the cool air finally calms the heat in my cheeks and I have the good sense to head back to the field to retrieve my car, I realize I’m not just walking away from Callum’s apartment. Once and for all, I’m walking away from those little girl dreams of him and me.
Because the Callum who just sat next to me on the couch isn’t the Callum I grew up with, and I don’t know if I can reconcile the two. I’m not sure that I want to.
CHAPTERTHREE
CALLUM
THREE YEARS AGO
“Your hair is so soft, Li. So fucking pretty.”
“Shh, just get in the bed,” she urges, half laughing at my clearly drunken state.
I stumble slightly, catching myself against the bed frame. “You really love me, don’t you? Even when I’m completely wasted?”
“Of course I do.”
My gaze softens, and a bittersweet smile curves my lips. “Love you, too. So much. More than a normal amount, I think, like an unhealthy amount.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I dunno, I’m so tired,” I mumble, my energy fading as I collapse onto the bed.
She pulls the covers over me, tucking me in like a little kid who just had a nightmare. “Go to sleep, then. I’ll still be here in the morning.”
NOW
The bed feels foreign tonight, like it’s made of stones and thorns and everything I’ve ever done wrong in my life. I toss and turn, trying to find a position where the weight of regret doesn’t press so heavily on my chest.
It’s no use. Every time I close my eyes, I picture Lila’s hurt expression, hear the door slam shut behind her. And just when I finally got her back, too.
I knew I fucked up the second the words left my mouth. I just ... I couldn’t help myself. I jumped at the chance of being with her in whatever way she needed.
And, as per usual, my mouth spoke before my mind could rationalize things. Before I could recognize what the offer truly meant for both of us. It came out sounding an awful lot like a proposition, and a half-assed one at that. A quickie for a girl who deserves a hell of a lot more.
When the alarm blares its unwelcome wake-up call, I’ve barely slept. I drag myself out of bed, muscles aching from yesterday’s game and a night spent fighting the ghosts in my head.
The memory of Lila’s quick exit burns at the back of my eyelids. It fucking hurts. But, I suppose, nothing could hurt more than the silent way she slipped out of my life over the past few years.
I try to shake it off as I get ready for practice. It’s another day, another chance to get back on track, I tell myself. But the truth is, it feels a lot like I’m running on a treadmill that’s about to fling me off any second.
So, naturally, practice is a fucking disaster.
The ball might as well be a grenade the way I’m handling it—fumbling, hesitating, second-guessing. It’s unlike me. I’m the guy who’s always in control, always one step ahead of the game.
Today, I’m tripping over my own feet.
“Pick it up, Galloway!” Coach Martinez’s voice cuts through the morning chill. It should get me going, light a fire under my ass. Instead, it just adds to the noise inside my head.
