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“Because you were important to me. You meant everything. And...you’re a rock star. Holy granola, don’t you get that? You’re a beautiful, talented rock star coveted by women everywhere you go.”
Letting my hand fall from her chin, I waved her off, dismissing all but her first two sentences. “Why are you using past tense?”
“Um…” She tucked her hair twice. “Because it’s been three and a half years since we’ve spoken. I’ll treasure what we had forever, but we’re not best friends anymore. Too much has happened to call us that. I don’t even know if we were back then. We never said it.”
“We were.”
Her lips parted in an O. “Okay. We were.”
At least we agreed on one thing. At least I knew I wasn’t fully crazy and our relationship had actually had value to her. A dark corner of my mind had always whispered words on a screen didn’t equate to anything more than what they were. They weren’t a connection. They weren’t feelings. They weren’t real. But I knew that wasn’t true. Nothing had ever been as real as Wren Anderson.
“You’re still important to me.”
“Thank you,” she said.
I laughed under my breath. “You’re welcome.”
“Did you know who I was at the party?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She nodded, her nostrils flaring a bit. “But you let me be with Adam.”
“At the party, I didn’t know what I wanted with you yet. But Adam’s not gonna have you. As far as I’m concerned, no one else is.”
Her hand drifted from her chest to her forehead, cupping it as her head bowed.
“Are you sayingyou’regoing to have me?” Her voice had gone tiny and meek.
“Yes.” No sense in beating around the bush and pretending those weren’t my intentions. Wren was mine. She’d been mine since she first wrote to me, even if neither of us had known it at the time.
“I don’t know you, Callum. I’m not...I can’t…”
I dragged her hand from her face and lifted her chin. “Don’t shrink.”
Her mouth twitched. “That’s really strange to hear you say in person with your Alabama accent. The voice I had in my head wasn’t anything like this.”
I wasn’t amused like she was. I didn’t find humor in her telling me she didn’t know me. There was nothing funny about having the image of Adam’s lips touching hers forever burned into my memories.
That wasn’t her fault. It was mine. I’d let that go too far, but I wouldn’t make that mistake again.
“Come here.” I laid my hands on my thighs, showing her where I wanted her.
Her pale brows furrowed. “What? I just got through telling you I don’t know you anymore and now you want me to sit in your lap?”
“Yes.” I held my hand out for her. She didn’t budge. “Come here, Wren.”
“Okay.”
Slowly, she crawled across the wide cushion separating us. I could have scooped her up and taken her once she was within reach, but the unpracticed sway of her round, wide hips froze me in place. How could she have thought I would be disappointed that she was my little bird?
She kneeled beside me. “I’m here.”
“No.” My arm circled her waist and tugged her until she was sprawled against me. “Now you’re here. Sit.”
“I’m not a dog.” Her lips were quirking again. She obviously wasn’t offended by my abrupt orders.
“I know that. You’re a little bird.”
