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"No, you didn't. How is it your fault, anyway?"
"Because I expected you to want me for more than sex, but you made it clear you didn't want that."
Playing the blame game won't fix anything. I brought Callum up here so I could tell him… I don't know what. The speech I had worked out in my head has suddenly evaporated. All I can do now is speak from the heart.
"I like you, Callum," I say. "You're a sweet, thoughtful, smart, sexy man. Being with you made me feel better than I have in years. And I'm not just talking about sex. Even during our therapy sessions, when I had to push you to open up, I felt something I hadn't experienced in a long time."
"What's that?"
"After years of holding everything inside and denying myself what I really needed…" I move closer, tipping my head back to gaze into his eyes. "You make me feel alive, Callum."
He stares at me.
Maybe I shouldn't have said that. It's too much too soon, isn't it?
Callum cradles my face in one hand. "You make me feel alive too."
"Oh. Good." Was that the dumbest thing I could've said? Probably not. But it felt pretty damn stupid.
"It's time I answered all your questions."
Did he actually say that? I didn't hallucinate it, right? Callum said he wants to open up to me at last, all the way. Excitement tingles over my skin, which is ridiculous. It's not like he asked me to marry him.
"Why don't we lie down on the bed?" I say. "You'll be more comfortable sharing everything with me if you're relaxed."
"You said 'we' should lie down."
"I know. Got a problem with that?"
"No." He sweeps me up in his arms and tosses me onto the bed. "Do we keep our clothes on?"
"Yes. This isn't sex therapy."
I scoot over to make room for him, then he lies down beside me. I cuddle up to him and rest my head in the hollow of his shoulder. He curls an arm around me.
"Whenever you're ready," I say. "We've got all the time in the world."
"Aye. As long as I'm in here with you, those lunatics out there won't harass me."
"Forget about everyone else. Just talk to me."
"You want to know why I resigned from the fire station."
"Anything you want to tell me, I want to know."
He absently strokes a finger up and down my arm and focuses on the ceiling. "I didn't save that elderly woman. My mate did. When we got into the bedroom, the fire was all around us, all around the bed. We had seconds to save that woman, and I froze."
"Had you been in a burning building before?"
"Aye. Been in all sorts of fires and always got the job done. I never froze." He scrubs a hand over his face. "Until that day."
"What changed?"
"Not sure." He groans and shuts his eyes. "My mate rescued her and shouted for me to follow him out. That beam did almost fall on my mate and the woman, and I did push them out of the way. But I tripped going down the stairs. That's how I injured my knee. The woman was sobbing, havering about 'the kittens in the living room.' While my mate carried the woman outside, I found the kittens and brought them outside."
He twists his features into a pained expression.
"Why are you scrunching up your face like that?" I ask. "You did a good thing."
