Callie saw a flash of lightning behind her eyes, felt the ground sway beneath her, and turned and melted back into the crowd before anyone could see her plummet from the tower.
∞∞∞
Noah stayed with his uncle and Wolf until he finished his drink, hardly hearing most of their excited chatter. This was it. The break he’d been waiting for that could finally take him out of academia and get him back to focusing on writing his own music. Why then wasn’t he as excited as he should be?
As Liv and Daemon took the floor for their first dance, Noah found Callie slumped in a white folding chair at their table, stretching her neck from side to side. Even tired and sore, she was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Could he really go six months without her?
Noah sat beside her and tapped his knee, determined to focus on the problems he could solve rather than the ones he had no answers for.
She raised an eyebrow. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Give me your feet,” he said.
Slowly she lifted her legs until her feet rested on his thigh. He undid the ankle strap of her heels, doing his best to hide the surge of dismay at the red, swollen skin beneath the buckles. He ran his thumb over that abused skin before pulling the shoes from her feet and setting them aside. She sighed in relief, sinking deeper into her chair and letting him pull her feet closer as he began gently massaging them.
“You shouldn’t have worn the heels,” he said, unable to help himself.
“Everyone was wearing heels,” she replied with a slight shrug, as if that made it okay that her feet were swollen. “I’m not putting those things back on, though.”
“Good.”
The DJ called over the speakers for the rest of the wedding party to join Liv and Daemon on the dance floor, but Noah held Callie’s feet firmly on his lap.
“Dance with me, Noah.”
He wanted to protest that she needed to rest, that she needed to be careful not to overdo it—but there was a melancholy in her tone that made his heart clench in his chest, so he let her pull her feet from his grasp, took her hand, and led her onto the dance floor.
By the time the band played the second verse ofThe Way You Look Tonight,he’d already forgotten about the other couples dancing around them. All that mattered was Callie, the slide of her dress beneath his hands, the heat of her pressed against him, the citrus and rain scent of her hair. He would adjust the plan, take Daemon’s advice and make sure they never went more than two weeks without seeing each other, fly back and forth as many times as it took—whatever he needed to do to keep holding her. He’d make this film and then he’d come home and make her his forever.
Noah pressed his lips to her ear and softly sang to her, doing his best not to think about how fragile his plan was, how easily he could lose her.
Callie pulled out of his arms, turning away from him and hiding her face. “I need a minute,” she said, her voice shaky, before she damn near ran from the tent.
Noah watched as she ran barefoot across the lawn and down the steps that led to the beach. He could feel the other guests’ eyes on him, his sister’s concerned frown boring into him from across the dance floor. With a muttered curse, he took off after Callie.
He found her standing on the edge of the ocean, the waves lapping at her bare toes, dampening the hem of her dress. The wind caught the few loose tendrils of hair around her face, lifting them in a frenzied dance. He approached slowly, picking his way across the rocks until they gave way to sand. The waves roared, their crash rivaled only by the blood pounding through his veins.
“My mom called a realtor,” Callie said, not turning to meet his eyes. “She’s really going to move.”
A bright burst of triumph shot through his chest, immediately followed by the profound sense that he was missing something. This was what Callie wanted. Why then did she look like she was about to cry?
“I thought that’s what you wanted,” he said.
“It is.” Callie glanced over her shoulder at him with a sad smile.
“Then what’s wrong?” he asked, stepping closer, his shoes sinking into the damp sand.
Callie looked back out at the ocean. “She’s all I have. She’s the only one who’s always there. Dad and Camille are always traveling—do you know he didn’t even remember my birthday this year? Or last. And Liv’s so busy between work and Daemon.”
“You have me.”
“Do I?”
“Yes.” He took her shoulders in his hands and turned her to face him, the sadness in her eyes slashing across his skin. “Of course, you do.”
“Even after tonight?”
He swallowed hard. He wanted to say yes, to reassure her. But he’d be going on the road with the documentary in just a few short days and he’d be gone for at least three months, maybe more. Even if he came home every couple of weeks, it wasn’t the same. How could he promise to be there for her when he was getting ready to leave?
