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As the door swung wide, Cal stood, in all his masculine glory, sweaty, shirtless and in nothing but a pair of low-slung shorts. He held a box in one hand and waited on the other side of the threshold.
“Hey,” I said, licking my lips and trying not to stare at his defined chest and amazing tattoos. “Just get done exercising?” It was a stupid question. Between the sheen of sweat and heavy breaths of his chest, he appeared to have come straight to my room after whatever kind of workout he’d just finished.
His blue eyes landed on mine and he nodded. “Yeah, exercising isn’t what it used to be.”
The statement hit my chest and spread over my skin like warm water. Because that single statement brought back some potent memories. Like the time I’d been with him at the fire house. Straddling his lap while he lifted weights. Stealing kisses between reps. My entire body ached from the recollection.
“Can I come in?” he asked.
It would be smart to say no. To tell him distance was best. Instead, I nodded. Smart didn’t outweigh the want to be near him.
He took a few long strides and didn’t stop until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. His scent was intoxicating. Spicy and woodsy and all man. I wanted to taste every inch of his salty skin and do a different kind of marathon, but that was not where we were anymore. The light and fun time in our relationship had passed. We didn’t even have a relationship anymore. And that fact knocked on something already broken deep in my chest.
“I see you’re still hiding out in here,” he said, setting the box on the bed next to me.
“I’m not hiding.”
He grinned. “You’re not a good liar, Kitten.”
Second man to say that to me today. Not cool.
“Did you want something?”
“Yes,” he said with a serious edge. “I want something very much actually.” Those aqua eyes bore into mine and just the intensity from his stare made my blood heat.
“Cal…” I whispered. Which made him close his eyes for a moment and take a deep breath, as if warding off some kind of pain.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to hear you say my name, be close to you, and know you’re
so far away?”
There was rawness behind every syllable. “Yes,” I answered honestly. “I know exactly how that feels.”
“Then, tell me,” he asked. “Tell me everything. Be mad, say whatever you need to say. Please, I’m right here and I want to hear it. Whatever needs to happen so we can—”
“Move on?” I interrupted.
“Yes,” he whispered. “Move on.”
“Funny thing about that,” I said around a shuddering voice. “There are some things that are impossible to move on from.” He hung his head and our conversation from all those weeks ago hit hard. “You were the one who told me that moving on from something that causes so much joy or pain is impossible.”
“So, move then, Kitten. Please, just move toward me.”
“I don’t think I can.” The truth punched my stomach so hard it made me want to retch.
“Then, do something, make me pay, anything.”
I shook my head and did the one thing I tried from the beginning to never do, I reached out for him. Cupping his face in my hands, I stared at the man I loved so much, but couldn’t have. “I don’t want to be mad anymore.”
“No,” he said sternly. “Give me anger. Hate. Anything. But don’t give up on us.”
I looked at the big strong man before me and realized how different he was. In every way. Not just from Jack, but from all men. Jack had my anger, even some hate, and he thrived on it. There was hope in it. Jack knew it. And so did Cal.
How and what I felt for Cal was complex. Not better or worse—if there was such a thing.
“What I feel for you isn’t vicious. It’s…devastating.”
He looked like I’d just punched him in the face. “No,” he said again, his male dominance rising to the surface. “No, Lana. I fucked up. But that doesn’t mean what we have isn’t real. I love you, God damn it.”
