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“Callie,” says Raleigh, coming to kneel down next to me. He’s got tears in his eyes. “Callie, baby. Talk to me.”
I just shake my head.
I hate grief. It’s horrible and messy and painful and there’s no controlling it. It comes and goes as it pleases. I never in a million years thought I’d have reason to grieve Weston Thorpe.
Raleigh holds me while I cry. It takes a while. We hold each other, and when that’s not enough, he picks me up and carries me back to my bedroom. It’s dark out now, pale moonlight washing over the room. Raleigh doesn’t bother with the blinds. He tells me he needs to see me. We don’t talk about West. We don’t talk about the tears, or who is crying, or why. We make love in the dark, seeing each other through the first wave of loss. And in the morning, again, but with the light of the sun and more anger than tears.
It takes a few days before either of us are able to actually talk about it, but by then there doesn’t seem to be anything left to say. I’m in love with two men; one of them loves me back. Raleigh has told me in every way but one, and I’ve never been so grateful to another person as I will to him for the rest of my life for helping hold me together.
Sully turns up at my door a few days later, banging his way through the kitchen the way he’s done since we were kids.
“Hey Cal,” he calls.
I yank my shirt back down and run a hand through my hair, heading for the kitchen before Sully comes to find me.
“Hey you,” I say. “Long time, no see.” I kiss him on the cheek, stepping back to take the extreme side-eye he gives me, feeling my own roll in response. He looks over my shoulder, surprise lighting his features.
“Hello,” says Raleigh coming into the kitchen behind me. I’m relieved to see he’s got his pants back on at least. “I’m Raleigh.”
Sully shakes his hand, not bothering to disguise his grin.
“Sullivan Hale,” he says. “I’m Callie’s cousin.”
“Nice to meet you,” says Raleigh. “I’m just on my way out. Callie, I’ll see you later.” Raleigh kisses me on the cheek, lingering a moment too long. “Right. Going now. Be seeing you.”
“I’ll bet you will,” murmurs Sully, his amusement plain as Raleigh heads back out to his car. “You’ve been holding out on me,” he says, arching a brow.
I scoff, turning to grab a drink from the refrigerator. Handing Sully a beer, we make ourselves comfortable at the kitchen table.
“How are you?” I ask. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Never mind about me,” he says. “I came to check on you.”
“I’m fine.” It’s mostly true. If you stretch the definition.
“Right.” Sully arches that brow at me again. “Finn mentioned you had a falling out. Something to do with West Thorpe.”
“Mentioned it, did he?” I glare at Sully.
“He did. And he might have said some other things.” Sully takes a long pull from his beer. “Let’s just say I was a little surprised to see you here making out with somebody else.”
I flush and turn my glare to the tabletop.
“Hey.” Sully kicks me lightly under the table. “Talk to me, Cal. If any of those bastards are being mean to you, I’ll kick their asses.”
That draws a smile from me, the first real one I’ve managed all week.
“If anybody needs their ass kicked, it’s Finn,” I say.
“You’re supposed to say that. You’re his sister.”
“Maybe,” I concede. “But it’s true.”
Sully does that trick, the one West is so good at. He waits me out.
“West and I… kind of got involved.”
“Okay.”
