Page 18 of Neap & Spring

“Okay?” His voice is strained, his whole body trembling with the effort of holding still.

“Yes.” I roll my hips up to meet him. “Yes. God. Move, Callum. Please.”

“I love it when you say my name.” He surges forward with a rhythm that unravels me completely. I wrap my legs around him and he groans into my neck.

“Vivi, baby.” My name comes out wrecked. “Do you have any idea — God, you feel —”

“Don’t stop.”

“Never.”

The word lands somewhere deep inside me. I feel tears behind my eyes and I pull him closer so he can’t see my face.

The rhythm builds, less controlled now and more desperate. His hand slides between us, his thumb finding the spot that makes me gasp. I’m already so close, my whole body winds tight around him.

“You’re squeezing me so good, Vivi,” he breathes. “You good, perfect, stunning, girl. Let go for me. I’ve got you.”

I do. With his name on my lips, pleasure crashes through me in waves that leave me shaking. He follows moments later with one final thrust, my name torn from his throat, his body going rigid, and we hold on to each other while the world reassembles itself around us.

Afterward, we lie in his tiny bed, my back against his chest, his arm heavy across my waist. We’re both breathing heavily, the warmth of our bodies creating a cocoon against the world outside. The lamp still glows softly, casting shadows across the walls. Outside, footsteps fade as the night deepens.

His thumb moves in a slow circle against my stomach, barely touching me, but it feels electric, sending shivers through my body. I turn my head slightly, and he leans in, his breath ghosting against my ear.

“I meant what I said earlier. At the bar.”

I don’t say anything, just pull his arm a little tighter across me as if to anchor myself.

“Wherever you go” — his voice comes out low and serious — “however long it takes, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here. Just please find your way back.”

My heart stutters at his words, and the street outside grows completely silent.

“You’re it for me,” he says, and the weight of the admission hangs in the air. “I think you’ve been it for me since the first time I saw you.”

I close my eyes, feeling the low timber of his voice resonate down my spine. He’s always been it for me too.

But I don’t say it back. Instead, I bring his hand up and press my lips to his knuckles, kissing the scarred skin. It feels like a promise I don’t have the right to make but am making anyway.

I let myself have this moment, just for tonight. Just for the hours before the morning comes and London reasserts itself, pulling me forward the way it always does.

He falls asleep before I do, his breathing slowing and evening out, and I lie there in the dark listening to it. Memorizing it like it’s the last piece of something I’m afraid to lose.

I tell myself I’m not afraid of losing this.

I’ll never lose this.

CHAPTER SIX

Vivienne

I’m following Callum through his restaurant, and I think I might throw up.

He hasn’t said a word. Neither have I. The only sounds are his footsteps and mine and the distant clang of pans from somewhere ahead of us.

My mind keeps replaying how we got here as I follow him, trying to figure out where it all went wrong and pinpoint the exact moment I should have done something different.

I’d spent hours scrolling through the consultation file, the blue light making my eyes ache as I memorized every detail.

I knew the numbers by heart. On paper, the restaurant looked like it should be fine. Revenue was steady. The food costs were reasonable. Labor was managed well. The margins where they needed to be.