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“You’re gorgeous,” she insisted. “That’s a fact. One day, you’ll recognize beauty doesn’t come in one model. But that’s really beside the point, isn’t it?”
“What is the point?” I was a pretty smart girl, but I was definitely flying blind when it came to sex parties, random hookups, and Callum Rose.
“Well, how did you leave it?” she asked.
I shrugged. “He put me in his car and sent me home.”
“Hmmm…” She tapped her chin. “Did you tell him about the emails?”
“Of course not.”
She snorted. “Of course not. And are you going to?”
I blew out a long breath. “I don’t want to.”
She leveled me with a hard stare. “That’s not really fair to him, honey. You have him at a disadvantage. If you had been two anonymous pen pals, neither of you would know if you crossed paths. But that’s not the case here. If you’re going to continue—”
“I can’t see that happening.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” I held out my arms, gesturing to the toys, the boy, and finally, myself. “Because of who I am and who he is.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re starting to piss me off.” It was true. When Jenny got mad, her Queens accent thrived. “You were you and he was himself last night. That didn’t stop either of you. So, tell the man who you really are. Be fair. Maybe he’ll surprise you.”
“I know I should.” I rubbed my forehead with my fingertips. “But it’ll open a whole can of worms I’m not ready for, you know?”
She patted my hand, sympathy melting in her soft brown eyes. “I know, baby. I really do.”
Ezra pulled my attention away to show me his masterpiece, putting the conversation to an end. He’d had ahappy little accidentwith his paint water, so I had to stop fantasizing about my rock star crush and clean up the mess my little boy had made. If that wasn’t a reality check, I didn’t know what was.
Sundays were my shopping day. During Ezra’s naptime, I bought our groceries for the week, using the solo trip to grab a little peace and quiet for myself. Jenny was always urging me to go out and basically get a damn life, but that wasn’t me. I’d barely had one before my kid, not a chance I was going to make a big change now.
On the way home, I dawdled, peering into storefronts and pushing my wire cart filled with reusable shopping bags.
I stopped in front of a Krav Maga studio. I’d walked by it a hundred times, but never really looked in. Something about the pristine window and swirly script of the sign caught my attention.
There was a group of mostly men and a couple women gathered in a semicircle on a blue mat, watching a sparring match between two men in black uniforms with padded helmets on their heads. They were grappling and kicking, tossing elbows and trying to drag each other down to the mat. I winced every time an elbow connected, but I couldn’t seem to look away.
What kind of crazy person would have willingly signed up for something like this? Not me, that was for sure. I didn’t like pain, like most sane people.
When one man pinned the other down with his arm wrapped around his opponent’s throat and his legs around his middle, my breath caught like I was the one being choked. I glanced at the people watching the fight, wondering if anyone else was concerned about the two people trying to kill each other. But no, they all seemed enthralled.
At least, that was what I thought, until I reached the end of the semicircle and found I was being watched. Callum Rose stood on the mat with his arms folded over his chest, his hair swept back in a low bun, dressed in the same black uniform the men currently fighting wore.
He wasn’t watching the fight, though. My throat squeezed when our eyes connected through the glass.
His stare pinned me in place, even with the blast of cold wind that seemed to sneak between the fibers of my coat to torment my bare skin. I thought about leaving, but he held up a finger, bent to grab a gym bag from between his feet, and strode for the door.
Callum pushed outside and slung the bag across his chest. “Hello.”
“Um…hi.” I pushed my hair off my face with my gloved hands. “Don’t let me take you away from your murder-fight thing. I was walking home and stopped to watch and you’re here.”
He bowed his head. “Iamhere.” He crossed his arms, and his eyes bounced from my cart to me. “I was gettin’ ready to leave anyway.”
My stomach was doing somersaults, more than it ever had in his presence. I was babbling like a ninny and making a fool of myself. I needed him to go back inside and pretend he never saw me. It didn’t seem like he was taking the psychic messages I was sending him, so I probably needed to speak before things got too awkward.
“All done murder-fighting?” I pushed out.
