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I cannae stop myself from growling at the cheeky sod. "The day I marry you is the day I hack off my own leg."
He chuckles as I shut the door behind me.
A few minutes later, I'm walking out of the building to head for the walking path along the river. But I stop just as I reach the curb in front of the apartment complex. I let Kate run away without even talking to her about what happened between us. Though I know I can't touch her again, I do need to clear things up between us and make sure she knows I don't expect anything from her. Will she still be my therapist? I don't want her to hand me off to someone else, but I wouldn't blame her if she did.
I rush back into the parking garage, intending to drive to Kate's place. But as I climb into the car, I realize I don't know where she lives. Since she had given me her mobile number, I dial it and hope it's not a number she only checks when she's at work. I get her voice mail. Cannae leave a message. I disconnect the call and try to think of what to do. I need to see Kate—to explain, to apologize, to do whatever it takes to convince her not to dismiss me as her client. Maybe I can find her in an online phone directory. Can't be that many Kate Wagners in Inverness.
A quick search gets me her address.
Maybe I drive a wee bit too fast, but that doesn't mean anything. I'm enjoying the freedom, that's all. I haven't driven in almost a week thanks to my British nanny.
Fifteen minutes after I pulled out of the parking garage, I'm standing at the door to Kate's flat on the first floor of a quaint building. Evan's apartment is posh and modern, and it's located in a complex designed for holiday travelers, so it doesn't have the homiest ambiance. But Kate's building feels welcoming. After a few minutes of staring at the door to her flat, I finally ring the bell.
Thirty-seven seconds later, she opens the door. No, I wasn't counting. I just happened to look at my watch—for thirty-seven seconds. What a ruddy eejit I am.
Kate blinks rapidly, and her lips fall open. "Callum? What are you doing here? How did you even know where I live?"
"Phone directory. That's how I found out where you live." I wince and grasp the back of my neck. "Could I come in? To talk. I think we need to…straighten things out."
"Um…" She bites her lip. "Okay."
I follow her into the flat. It's not large, but the space feels like a home. And it's definitely occupied by a woman. The sofa has a floral pattern, just like the throw pillows. I also see flowers in a vase and family photos on a table in the corner. The coffee table in front of the sofa holds magazines about home decorating alongside journals dedicated to physical therapy and psychotherapy.
Kate sits in the puffy chair across from the sofa. She tucks her hands under her thighs and bites her lip again.
Christ, I've made her uncomfortable just by coming here.
I settle onto the sofa, perched on the edge, and clamp my hands over my knees. "Are you all right, Kate?"
"Sure, fine, yeah," she says with a panicked wee laugh.
"This is all my fault. I'm sorry. If I hadn't kissed you yesterday—"
"I wouldn't have climbed onto your lap this morning and unzipped your pants?" She squeezes her eyes shut, her whole face pinched. Then she blows out a breath and looks at me. "It wasn't anybody's fault. We both participated in the, um, event."
Now having a poke is an "event." Whatever she wants to call it, I'll go along.
"Do you regret it?" she asks.
"Well…" Should I lie? I came here to sort things with her and apologize, but suddenly, I realize the truth. "No. I don't regret anything except that we had to stop."
Chapter Nine
Kate
"What?" That's all I can manage to say. Is my mouth gaping open? Maybe I misunderstood what he said, because Callum could not have just announced he wishes we hadn't stopped screwing each other when Hugh walked into the apartment. "I'm confused. Are you saying you don't think it was a mistake for us to, um, do what we did?"
"Aye, that's what I'm saying."
"But we agreed we should never do that again."
"When did we agree on that? Donnae remember you saying anything when you ran out of my apartment."
Okay, he has a point. I fled like my hair was on fire. Well, parts of me were on fire, though not literally. I burned for Callum like I've never burned for any man, and I did not want to stop. The way he kisses drives me crazy, but to feel him inside had been so damn good that I never wanted it to end. Great sex is not a proper foundation for any kind of relationship. Of course, I can't be sure it would've been great. I shut my eyes and groan. It had been amazing, and if Hugh hadn't interrupted, I know I would've come harder than I ever have in my life. Which is insane. Because I don't even like Callum.
"Are you in pain?" he asks.
My lids pop open, and my gaze lands on his face. "Huh? No, I'm fine."
