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I thought you didn’t want a relationship.
I thought I needed space to think about what was going on between us and to know where we stand. But the longer I’ve gone without speaking to him, the more I wonder if this is the right thing to do.
“Why haven’t you called?” I say to my phone, wishing it would ring and Callen’s name would flash across the screen.
Wait. Did I even give him my number?
I panic, pulling up my recent calls, and my thumb hovers over the send button. I stare at it for a few minutes before shoving it into my pocket.
I haven’t done a thing besides stay holed up in my hotel room, pacing the floor, wondering what possessed me to walk out of Callen’s house without a second thought. Now that I think about it, it sounds so stupid that I need to cling to this plan I’ve set out for my life.
I want to believe that he had feelings for me, that he really wanted to help me live my life to the fullest, but then why hasn’t he called? I haven’t heard a peep from him, and it’s killing me. I’ve lost count of the number of times I picked up my phone to call him, but I always stop myself. The little voice in my mind telling me that if he wanted to talk to me, he would call.
Besides, I don’t know what I’m going to say to him if he calls. “I’m sorry” doesn’t seem to cover everything that I’m feeling. I should have listened to what he said instead of getting offended, even though I knew he was only trying to help.
“Where the hell are my friends when I need them?” My voice echoes off the walls of the almost-empty room as I pull my phone from my pocket and open the contacts.
I’ve called Rory and Charlotte, looking for someone to help me figure a way out of this mess. Even after talking Rory off the ledge, I’m still no closer to an answer. Although I’m beyond excited that Rory dumped Brandon and found her own Prince Charming while hiding away in Ireland, that doesn’t help me with the mess I’m in with Callen.
I should apologize.
My thumb hovers over his name as I try for the millionth time to come up with the right words to tell him everything running through my head.
“He would have called by now if he was serious.” I push up off the bed and begin pacing in front of it.
It’s a vicious cycle. I lie across the bed, talking to myself but thankfully not answering myself. Then I get up and start pacing, still in awe at the fact I haven’t worn a path in the floor, before finally lying back down on the bed and looking at my phone every three seconds, willing him to call.
I know in my heart that he’s waiting for me to be ready to open my heart to him fully, the same as he’s done to me, but making a change like that is easier said than done. My heart and head need to agree before I can even think about having this conversation with him, and they have yet to do so.
I believe every word he said to me. Callen loves me, and he’s told me so a million times—not with words, but with action. But how long are those feelings going to last? We barely know each other, and there is no guarantee.
And that’s what I’m afraid of.
I’ve made him wait a week to decide if I’m going to give this—whatever is going on between us—a chance. How long is he really going to wait? I wonder if he already had someone else warming his bed the moment I stepped foot out the door.
He isn’t like that.
“Enough.” I stomp my foot, chastising myself again for letting my mind wander just as my phone vibrates in my hand.
I jump, almost dropping it in the process.
“Hello?” I say breathlessly.
“What the hell have you done?” My eyes widen in surprise as soon as Maya’s voice comes across the line.
I purposely called everyone but Maya. So one of two things has happened. Either Charlotte and Rory ratted me out, or Maya’s psychic. I’m leaning more toward number one, but then again Maya knows things before anyone else.
“Hey, Maya,” I mumble, trying to maintain my composure.
After everything that’s happened the past few days, the last thing I want to do is talk to Maya. She’ll blow everything out of proportion, not to mention getting a big head. All three of us found love on these wild adventures she made us go on. All that success is going to go right to her head.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?” I ask.
“Who's Callen?” she asks immediately.
I curse silently, wondering how in the world she found out about him, let alone his name.
“Rory,” I groan, dropping onto the edge of the bed. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything to her. She’s never kept any of our secrets.”
