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“If it makes you feel better, I wish I could take the one time I had sex back, too, Reed.”

“Does it make me an asshole if I tell you that I don’t like to think of you with anyone else?” I ask.

“No,” she responds. “I feel the same way when it comes to you.”

“So, we’ve both made mistakes,” I breathe, trying to come to terms with the chaos in my head.

“Yeah, I guess so. There’s nothing we can do but put it behind us and move forward together.”

“At least you don’t have to see your mistake anymore,” I mumble, feeling sorry for myself.

“What do you mean?” she asks, her brow crinkled as she watches me, her hands lying on my shoulders.

“I still see Chas in town, although I usually go the other way to prevent talking to her because seeing her just brings back what an idiot I was all over again,” I explain. “The guy you slept with is in New Hampshire, so it’s not like you have to see him again if you’re uncomfortable. You don’t have a daily reminder.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess so,” she says, looking confused.

It makes me a bastard, but I don’t want to see some son of a bitch she sleeps with every day. I mean I will and can, but it sure won’t mean that I like it. Where Callie is concerned, I’m way too possessive.

“I don’t think any of it matters, Reed,” she says. “You remember what we said, right? A new start. The past doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Yeah, I remember. I’ve been thinking that before you and I go that next step, I should get tested.” I feel her tense up and her eyes go wider as she looks at me.

“I… you didn’t wear a condom?” she asks, her voice tight.

“Fuck, I don’t know, Callie. I can’t remember shit. I didn’t find one, which doesn’t mean anything. I could have thrown it out of the truck. I didn’t look—”

“Uh…Maybe it would be best if we didn’t talk about the details,” she says, and I can see the pain on her face and hear it in her voice.

“Will you go with me?” I ask, and I know I’m pressing my luck, but I can’t seem to stop myself.

“With you?”

“To the clinic. Is that asking too much?”

Shit. What is wrong with me? Even going to the damn clinic makes my heart beat erratically and small beads of sweat pop out over my skin.

“If you want me there, I’ll be there,” she says, and I let go of a breath that I didn’t even know I was holding.

“I always want you with me, Bluebird.”

“Then, I guess we should probably hold off on the next step until you get the all clear,” she says and I nod.

“I think it will help me put everything in the past, Callie.”

Finally, I see her smile.

“Then, that’s what we will do, because I want that woman as far in our past as we can get her,” she grumbles and I kiss her, needing to reassure myself that somehow, despite fucking up so royally, I still have Callie in my arms, and she still cares about me.

That we have a future.

30 Callie

“Well, this is a surprise. You’re looking good, Callie.”

I give Mitch a weak smile, before looking down. I notice I’m wringing my hands together and I stop that instantly. I don’t want to be here. Shit, I feel like I’m going behind Reed’s back, which is crazy. Still, I know I need to approach this. I don’t really think I have a choice after talking to Reed last night.

“Thanks,” I laugh, willing myself to relax.

“I didn’t even know you knew where I lived,” he says, and I can tell he’s studying me.

“Reed told me,” I admit, although that’s kind of a lie. Reed let it slip one night that he was living in a rental until across from Joe’s bar. It was said in passing, mostly because he was pissed that Mitch didn’t even try to help their mother anymore, but I made note of it.

Probably because I knew that someday I’d have to talk to him about this.

I can see this flicker of emotion move over Mitch’s face. I shouldn’t feel guilty, but I do—which is insane. It’s not like Mitch and I have a relationship, or even had one. It was a one-night kind of thing and what we shared was revenge sex if it was anything.

Well, that and just plain stupid.

“Reed? You hooking up with my brother, Callie?” he asks and there’s an edge to his voice that makes me feel even more uncomfortable than I already am.

“It’s not like that, Mitch. I…I was wondering if we could talk?”

“Sure,” he says, scrubbing his hand against his jaw, scratching the neatly trimmed beard that he’s grown. He steps back to wave me inside. I stare at him, unsure of what I’m doing. His hair is a lighter color than his brother’s and is really disheveled. His brown eyes are nowhere near as intense, but beautiful just the same. His body is more defined, and he has ink covering the entirety of both arms and across his chest. He’s very different from Reed, who doesn’t have ink at all. He’s talking about it, wanting something small on his arm, but he’s been putting money toward getting his own place and a good vehicle first.

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