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“I promised I’d stay.” His cheeks were red and scrubbed clean, his hair freshly pulled back. He’d thrown a black hoodie over his uniform, and a duffel bag was clutched in his tight fist. “I came to see you, you know. Why would I leave?”

Exhaling, he shook his head. His hand dragged down my arm to thread our fingers together, then he pushed out the door into the cold. Callum was lost in his head, pulling me along in the direction of the grocery store.

His strides were long, eating up a block in no time. I took four steps for each of his, basically jogging to keep up with him. It wasn’t fun. My chest ached from sucking in the icy air, and Callum had no awareness of my struggle.

“Hey, slow down. My legs are half the length of yours.” I tapped his arm at the same time I stumbled over my own feet. He caught me in an instant, dropping his duffel to wrap me in his hold. He buried his face in my hair as he embraced me.

“I’m sorry, Wren. I wasn’t thinkin’.”

“Hey.” I cupped his cheeks with both of my hands, bringing his face closer to mine. “I’m fine, I’m just short. I know I should’ve stayed where I said I would, but I wasn’t leaving. I promise.”

Blue eyes burned into mine, old sorrow and new desire blending so thoroughly, it was hard to tell one from the other.

“Wren,” he murmured a moment before his mouth was on mine. There was nothing slow or tentative about the way Callum Rose kissed me. He took my head in his hands, tilting it to the side, and speared his tongue into my mouth. I whimpered, not because he was forceful, but from his desperation leaking into me. I felt his frustration with me and his fear I’d walk away again.

“You taste as delicious as you smell.” His lips skimmed mine, nipping and sucking like we were in the privacy of his home, not on a sidewalk in Queens on a Sunday afternoon. “I’m not letting you go now.”

On instinct, I bit his bottom lip, and he growled, holding me even tighter against him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I breathed.

“Come to my place.” His hands skimmed down my back. If I were any taller, he’d probably be palming my butt. “Come, Wren.”

Someone honked and yelled something in Spanish. I had an idea of what they were saying, and my cheeks burned, but Callum didn’t even flinch.

“I can’t.”

“Why?” he demanded.

“It’s too fast, Callum.” I pushed up on my toes and kissed the corner of his downturned mouth. “Can’t we just take a walk?”

He kissed me again, this time slower, his tongue dancing with mine instead of dominating it. I’d kissed exactly three people in my life, and I barely remembered the second one. I would never forget this kiss. Not only because it was with Callum, but also because I felt it all the way to my toes. He took over not just my mouth, but my entire being. That was why it was hard to pull away, but I did.

Slowly.

Reluctantly.

“We’re going to end up on your fan websites. All your groupies are going to want to claw my eyes out.”

He pecked my nose before pulling back. “Good. I want everyone to know you’re mine.” He took my hand in his and picked up his duffel. “Let’s go for a walk. I’ve been waitin’ for this for a long, long time.”

This time, he tempered his pace to match mine, and since I was a foot and a half shorter than him, he had to goreallyslow.

“How long have you been practicing Krav Maga?” I asked.

“Three years, officially. I had an uncle who was in the army in Israel and was trained in it. He and I sparred a lot growin’ up. He beat the shit out of me until I got bigger, then I beat the shit out of him.”

“Your family’s Israeli?”

“No.” His small smile seemed indulgent. “He wasn’t blood related. I had a lot of aunts and uncles. I can’t even tell you who was a real relative.”

“On your commune?”

He chuckled. “No, I didn’t live on a commune. We were travelers, remember? Caravaners who followed fairs and carnivals, performing and thievin’.”

Callum had told me a little about how he’d grown up, and some I’d learned through Googling The Traveling Roses. They were a group of ten or fifteen adults and an unknown number of kids who sang folk songs and lived off the grid. The adults took care of each other’s kids like family. The article had made them seem like they were living a whimsical, alternative lifestyle, but Callum’s depiction had hinted at something much darker.

“Do you know if they’re still traveling and thieving?”

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