Текст книги "Sometimes Moments"

Автор книги: Len Webster

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

“I can’t wait till we leave this place, Pey. Just wait until we start a life together out there. No matter where we are or where we go, you’ve claimed me. My life makes sense when I’m with you.”

Peyton rolled onto her back as she let memories of him keep her awake. She brought her fingers to her lips, missing the way that he felt against her. It had been a rookie mistake to kiss him, but inside her, something had snapped. She’d hated the way that he’d blamed himself for Jay’s behaviour and her actions. There had been no logic, just the desperate need to take all the self-blame away from him.

“We just can’t let it happen again, Peyton.”

And it couldn’t. It was bad enough that he was back; kissing him made it all the more complicated. He’d said that he could only offer her now and sometimes, nothing close to forever. The tension had been so thick when they’d returned to the hotel; she was almost drowning in it.

Peyton let her hand fall back onto the pillow and kept her eyes on the pendant light as she continued to replay today in her head. A day that made her question what tomorrow would bring. After what had seemed like forever, the tension had started to dissipate. Somehow, they’d found a comfortable moment when they’d discussed the wedding. With some adjustments to her original plan, the dance floor by the lake was feasible. All it needed was redesigning, and Callum offered to do just that. The moment she said, “Okay,” to him, he picked up the design, said he had to leave, and walked out.

The moment the bell rang to signal his departure, Peyton was thankful. She couldn’t take being so close to him, hating the fantasies of what could have been that bubbled up every time she looked at him. She was finally alone to breathe. But each time she thought about them kissing on the pier, she ended up more frustrated than before.

After being left alone with her thoughts, Peyton realised that she didn’t want to hear from him after he left. She didn’t want to hear about how he had found love and found happiness. She didn’t want to hear about how another woman had ended up with the man Peyton had always seen as her happily ever after. But she knew deep down that she wanted to hear about this woman and thank her for making Callum happy. That’s what her heart wanted.

Peyton turned on her side and stared at her phone on the bedside table. Taking a deep breath, she picked it up and rolled on her back again. With a firm grasp, she held the phone in front of her face and unlocked it. Then she found Callum’s number, not even sure if it was the same as it was four years ago. She swore she felt and heard her heartbeat pound in her eardrums as she opened the screen to type a new text message.

She let out a breath of air as she hovered her thumbs over the touchscreen. She knew she shouldn’t do it, but she was fighting an internal battle of want and need. The same battle between protecting her heart and freeing it. But the fight with herself didn’t take long as her thumbs began to type for her.

Peyton: Are you awake?

She pressed send and immediately regretted it, wishing she could recall it back. She prayed that she had the wrong number. A second after pressing send, though, she got a reply.

Callum: Peyton?

She looked at his message. She knew she shouldn’t reply, but she wanted to speak to him in any form she could get. To say she was confused hardly described what and how she felt.

Peyton: It’s me.

Callum: How’d you know I still have this number?

Pure luck and hope.

Peyton: I thought I’d tempt Fate.

Callum: To answer your earlier question: Wide awake.

What am I doing?

Peyton placed her phone on the pillow next to her. Then, almost immediately, it lit up with every message he sent her, the vibrations alerting her. Realising her error in messaging him, Peyton reached over and powered the phone screen down. With a deep breath in, she closed her eyes before she exhaled. The uncomfortable thumps of her heart were relentless. Limits were needed. And they needed to be established quickly.

Three vibration alerts occurred before they stopped. She opened her eyes and rested her hands on her stomach, twiddling her thumbs. Her heart didn’t calm, which annoyed her further. She was breaking—and at a more rapid rate than she believed possible. She chalked it up to loneliness, but she knew there was more. She wanted to be loved, enough to make her escape into some alternate reality of the current—and sad—life that she lived.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Peyton quickly sat up. Three. She looked at the window to see a silhouette and held her breath for what came next.

Tap. Tap.

Pause.

Tap.

That was it. She swallowed hard, purely to give herself a second. Then she reached over and turned on the bedside lamp. Not taking her eyes off the curtains, she removed the blanket and got out of bed. Slowly—to buy more time—she walked to the window. Once she reached it, she heard and felt her heart pick up. Excited and anxious. Her stomach clenched as a million different emotions filled her, making her head spin. She drew back the sheer curtains to see Callum’s hands on the glass. With the light from the moon and the lamp, she was able to see his eyes. His lips curved up before his eyes looked up at the lock and then back at her.

If she let him in, that wall was gone. Any stance was over and any hate she held would slowly fizzle out until he left in due course.

Callum moved closer, his eyes never leaving her as he breathed against the window, creating condensation on it. Then he placed a finger on the glass and began to slide it, creating a message for her. Her eyebrows furrowed at the sight. When he removed his finger, Peyton stared at it. It was a symbol.

?

She stared at the question mark as it slowly faded away. Without even giving it another thought, Peyton reached up and unlatched the window. Callum was the one who lifted it open until it locked into place. Then he put his hand on the windowsill and smiled.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, hating the nervousness in her voice.

“Making sure that you’re okay. You didn’t answer my messages,” he replied smoothly—unlike herself.

Peyton shrugged, not knowing what to say.

He tilted his head at her before asking, “Are you okay?”

She shrugged again.

“Can’t sleep?”

Peyton shook her head and said, “No,” at the same time.

“Me, either.” He paused. “Can I come in?”

She leant forward, staring him down. “You know, some people use the front door.”

He let out a low laugh. “When have I ever used the front door?”

Peyton’s shoulders loosened, not having realised just how tense she really was. “You have a point. Come in.” She took a step back, giving him room to get inside. He made it look easy, as he had when he was seventeen, too.

When he stood in her bedroom, Callum turned around and closed the window. The second his eyes met hers, he took her hand and her heart quickened its pace. Her breathing wasn’t quite cooperating, but it was manageable. Just.

“What are you doing?” she asked, a little breathless.

Damn.

“You can’t sleep,” he said before he pulled her close enough to wrap his arms around her waist. “And honestly, I can’t either.”

Peyton looked up at him, intrigued at the way he gazed at her. “I’m not going to get any sleep if you stay here.”

“Right here?” he asked.

Peyton nodded.

Callum’s hands made their way up her arms and then back down until he threaded his fingers with hers. She told herself all the reasons why she should take a step back and put distance between them, but before she could really debate, Callum led her towards the bed, the back of her legs hitting the mattress. Her breathing became shallow and an inconvenience as she looked to his eyes for answers to the question she hadn’t asked.

He guided her down until she sat on top of the blanket. Then he crouched down and held her hands more firmly.

“Peyton, do you remember when I said that I couldn’t give you forever?” he asked. The sadness in his voice broke her heart. An impossible thing was happening.

She gave him a sad smile. “I remember. I was there.”

“I stand by that. And the reason why I can’t sleep is because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Oh, God.

He squeezed her hand. “I shouldn’t, but I can’t. And frankly, it’s not something that’s just happened since I came back. I haven’t stopped thinking about you for the last four and a half years, Peyton.”

Words that should have made her heart rejoice actually pierced her deeper than before. The fragments broke away, hoping to be found someday. It wasn’t satisfying at all for her.

“What I’m saying is that I stand by what I said about saying goodbye to you after Oliver’s wedding. I can’t give you marriage or any of that. That’s not my intention, and well, I’m not capable of it. I know that I sound harsh, but I don’t want to mislead you. The only thing I can offer you is now, for as long as I can,” he said.

And there it was—a now, not a forever. It was what she had asked of him and it pained her that it was all she’d really get.

“What does ‘now’ consist of?” she asked in a little voice.

Callum let go of her hands and stood up, wrapping his arms around her head and pressing her ear to his chest. She listened to his heartbeat. The uneven and erratic beats filled her with sadness and even more confusion.

“Enough to let me hold you like this,” he stated.

And then those broken walls turned into ashes. She was officially a goner. A tear ran down her cheek, which was followed by another one. No forevers. It was agreed upon the moment Peyton wrapped her arms around his waist and held him tighter, afraid of their impending goodbye.

“I should hate you,” she whispered as she closed her eyes tight, memorising the sequence of his heartbeat.

“You should and you will.”

“I’m tired of hating you. What good would it do when it won’t bring my parents back? I can’t tell them how right they were when it came to you. I don’t even think I hate you anymore, Callum. I’m just angry that I wasn’t enough to make you stay.”

He tensed underneath her. Then Peyton felt his warm hands rest on her cheeks before he pulled her back and bent his knees to face her. She was shocked to see the tears in his eyes.

“I hate that, for the last four years, I’ve made you feel like you weren’t enough for me, Peyton. It wasn’t that at all. You were more than enough. No answer I give you is worth you forgiving me. No damn answer.” His thumb brushed the tears away.

The door to be truthful was finally open.

She looked him straight in the eye. “Did you cheat on me, Callum?”

When he didn’t answer right away, her heart gave way. Falling, burning, and faltering. The breaths she inhaled added coldness to the heat, intensifying the pain rather than extinguishing it. She wasn’t sure how to react if he said that he had. A slap in the face wouldn’t be satisfying. She thought a knee in the crotch might be enough.

Callum closed his eyes and breathed out heavily. “Would it be easier when we say goodbye if you thought I did?”

Thought. Not that he had. But it didn’t matter. Goodbye was still looming. The reason back then didn’t matter anymore. It was here and right now that mattered.

“No,” she replied, her voice had strained. The concept that he could have been with another girl killed her inside.

He gave her a tight smile. “Then no. I didn’t cheat on you, Peyton. You were all I saw. I was lost in all that you were. There was no chance that I wanted someone else when I had you. I was faithful until the end.”

Until the end.

Peyton believed him.

She moved away from Callum and sat back in the middle of her bed, letting her legs dangle over the edge of the bed. He hesitated a moment before he unzipped the hoodie he was wearing and let it fall to the floor. Then he took off his shoes, leaving them by the bed, before he climbed on the bed and Peyton patted her lap. She knew he understood what she meant the moment he positioned his feet near her pillows and lay his head in her lap. He looked up at her as she ran her fingers through his hair.

“Sometimes,” she said as she continued to glide her fingers through his locks.

“Yes?” Callum stopped her left hand and held it in his.

She made a small smile. All so familiar.

“I wish you had cheated on me…that someone else had gotten in the way of us. That it wasn’t me who had changed your heart. That you had fallen in love with someone who wasn’t me. I’d rather know you fell in love with someone else than know that I didn’t make you happy. That I couldn’t make you love me.”

Truth.

She let her free hand fall to his jaw and softly trailed her fingers down. “Your leaving hurt me. Not because I lost the person I loved, but because I also lost my best friend. I had to figure out a life without you. And I missed you. A lot. Nobody got me the way you did. Not Jay and not even Graham.”

Then she paused and brushed the wetness that had escaped from the side of his eye. “I’ve missed you, Callum. You were the part of me I loved the most about myself.”

Callum let her hand go and sat up. Just as she was about to ask him what he was doing, he placed his hand on her shoulder and pushed her back on the pillows. He moved her so she was lying on her side before he settled next to her. Once he pulled her hair away from the side of her face, he moved in close, his mouth near her ear.

She was losing control. And she didn’t care. She was giving it up…for sometimes moments. And she knew this was one of them. For her, it would be.

“I’ve missed you, Pey. I’ve missed you so damn much that I got your name tattooed on me. The cherry blossoms that wrap around my arm are symbolic of you. It was the only way I could feel close to you,” he whispered in her ear.

She thought his heartbeat was her favourite sound he made. But it was actually the way he whispered and the way it made her heart ache and beat freely.

“Callum, we need a safe word,” she said, looking at the Polaroid of them on the bedside table.

“Why?” he asked as he settled his chin on the top of her head.

“When this becomes too much. When we step over the concept of now. When one of us can’t get over forever. Or when one of us can’t take it anymore.”

“Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious—that’s our safe word,” he said softly. “Close your eyes and let me hold you now, for as long as I can.”

His voice sounded beautiful, and she let her eyelids fall. As she listened to his breathing until it finally settled, Peyton kept her eyes close. With one last sigh, he held her tight against his body before relaxing. After listening to each inhale and exhale Callum made, Peyton slowly opened her eyes. With a turn of her head, she was able to confirm that he was asleep.

This is when I know he loves me.

When he holds me in his sleep.

When he’s exposed and vulnerable.

When he can’t hide behind his fears and excuses.

When I know that there’s still hope…

That he can love me again.

A tear fell before Peyton whispered to herself, “Super-cali-fragi-listic-expi-ali-docious.”

A fter the bed dipped, a cool breeze fluttered over and settled on her arm and the side of her face. An arm wrapped over her, and she moved, her eyes slowly opening. A groan left her as she turned her head.

“It’s me,” Callum whispered, and she smiled, still half asleep.

She lay her head back down and closed her eyes. “You should go home, Callum. I don’t want you to get sick,” she said.

“Turn around for me,” he instructed.

Peyton turned in his arms, her forehead against his chest as he held her tight against him.

“You’re still burning up, Pey.”

She snuggled into him. “I haven’t been able to stay awake. Dad might take me to the hospital if I still can’t stand tomorrow. Is Mrs West’s cat still lying next to me? I’m too weak to make him move. Is Mr Lucky comfortable?”

Callum chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “There’s no cat here, Peyton.”

She raised her head, her eyes slowly opening. “Are you sure? He was by my feet just before.”

“Mr Lucky isn’t in your room. Close your eyes and get some sleep. We might have to take you to the hospital tomorrow, Peyton. You’re burning up. I’ll go get you a cold rag,” he said, his hold on her loosening.

She gripped his shirt. “No. I’m freezing. Just hold me. Make sure you let Mr Lucky out the window when he wants to leave.”

He laughed lightly. “Okay, I’ll be sure to let him out. Goodnight, Peyton.”

Peyton’s head fell and she slowly let go of his shirt. “Goodnight, Mr Lucky.”

Somewhere far away, she heard his beautiful laugh. Her head weighed too much to process another thought and her eyelids were too heavy to open. His hands rubbed circles on her back and her body no longer felt like her own.

Like a dream, she heard someone whisper, “I love you, Peyton.”

“I love you, too, Mr Lucky. But I think that I’m in love with Callum. He’ll let you out soon. Be a good kitty.”

Blink.

Breathe in.

Blink.

Breathe out.

Blink twice.

And repeat.

All night, Peyton repeated the cycle of blinks and breaths. The way Callum held her through the night reminded her of when she was sick. That night, she’d been delirious, not really sure what was actual reality and what was the result of an extreme case of the flu. She had dreamed that Callum had said that he loved her, but she knew it was a dream. He never said anything when she woke.

Peyton spent the night staring at the Polaroid of them on her bedside table as Callum slept next to her. The need to say the safe word consumed her. She knew she was on the road to self-destruction. Taking a deep breath, Peyton turned in his arms until she was face to face with him. His mouth and brows were relaxed. When he was asleep, he seemed free and looked every inch the seventeen-year-old she’d loved. The thought caused heat to succumb her chest.

The reality was that the person she’d once loved no longer remained. Instead, he was a shell. He seemed lost, without a home. She wanted to touch him, have her fingers trail down the side of his face. See if he reacted the same way that he had when she used to do it under the cherry blossom tree outside her window. But she refrained from doing so.

Say it, Peyton. Say the word that will make him leave. End this now, her conscience screamed

Peyton squeezed her eyelids together. She knew that the right thing to do was wake him up and tell him to go home. She wasn’t sure she could recover this time if he hurt her. She didn’t have her parents.

“Why are you crying, Peyton?”

Peyton slowly lifted her lids, the tears she didn’t realise she had dragged out sliding down the side of her face. The concern in Callum’s eyes was hard to miss. She didn’t wipe them away. Instead, two more tears fell before Peyton stared down at his chest.

“Peyton?” Callum asked softly.

Her eyes locked with his, and Callum’s hand grazed against her stomach before he brought his fingers close to her face and brushed her hair back. She didn’t say anything as he stroked her hair and then placed his palm on her hip, heating the skin underneath her pyjamas.

The corner of his lips deepened slightly, and his moves were a mix of familiar and unknown. He used to stroke back her hair plenty of times, but this time, the control on his face had her walls building. It wasn’t the same. They weren’t the same. She couldn’t have the same.

Peyton shook her head. “I’m not sure,” she replied and sat up.

She kept her eyes on the dresser opposite from where they lay and against the wall, unsure of what to do. Being lost in the past was risking her present and her future. ‘For now’ was too much of a risk. ‘For now’ wasn’t what she deserved, and she shouldn’t have asked for it.

The bed shifted, and Callum’s hand was on her left shoulder. When she turned her head to look at him, remorse had filled his eyes, like he knew exactly what she was thinking. Another hand was placed on her right shoulder, his eyes never leaving hers. Then he sighed and pushed her back on the bed, his hands flat on the mattress by her head. Once he threw his leg over her body, he hovered over Peyton.

“You want to use the safe word, don’t you?” His eyes darkened and her heart throbbed violently in her chest.

“Yes,” she breathed out.

The features of his face hardened and his nose flared. “I told you that I didn’t want anything from you, Peyton. You wanted this. You wanted now.”

A whimpered escaped her lips. “I wanted forever,” she confessed in a small voice. “I stupidly wanted forever from you.”

Callum’s arms tensed, and from the corner of her eye, she could see him fist the sheet under her. “I can’t give you forever. Use it. Use the safe word, Peyton.”

Do it, Peyton.

She blinked once, in time with the beat her heart made. Callum stared at her, waiting for her to say the word from one of her favourite movies. For a moment, she thought he’d cry. His mouth pressed together firmly and his eyes shone.

Peyton closed her eyes, mentally counting to three before staring at him. Then she took a deep breath and breathed out, “Super—”

Callum’s lips crashing into hers stifled the rest of the safe word, almost taking it away from her. Peyton’s hands reached up and held onto his waist as she kissed him back. She closed her eyes as Callum’s mouth put more pressure on hers. Over and over, his lips worked with hers. It wasn’t slow. It was fast and desperate. A kiss that screamed, “Let me keep you!” to Peyton.

His body tensed under her hands and she pulled him onto her. The pure weight of him caused her to moan. A sob was made somewhere between his mouth moulding over hers and his body falling on top of her. It wasn’t a sob she made. Then something warm and wet hit her cheek and she opened her eyes.

The movement of her lips were slowed as she watched tears run from his closed eyes and down Callum’s face, unaware that she was watching. Her heart throbbed and heated within her chest. She stopped returning his kisses as his lips continued to glide over hers.

“Callum, stop,” she said.

And his lips did.

His arms tensed harder to the point where his veins protruded under his skin. Then he took a deep breath and rested his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed. When another tear hit her, she couldn’t understand why a second sob escaped him.

“I don’t want this for you, Peyton. You don’t deserve this. This is why I made you promise to not let me kiss you.”

The break in his voice had Peyton removing her hands from the side of his body, letting them fall onto the mattress. The cracks in her heart deepened at the desperation in Callum’s voice.

“Then say it,” she whispered.

Callum opened his eyes and moved his forehead from hers, staring down at her. “Say it?”

Peyton nodded. “Call it. Say the safe word.”

He winced. “I can’t. I can’t say that word,” he said, shaking his head.

Peyton reached up and wiped the wet tears from his cheeks. “You can say it, Callum. You know how to walk away. You’ve done this before.”

“I’m not calling it, Peyton. Not on this bed. This bed holds everything for me. I’m not ending it here,” Callum said.

She recognised the anger in his voice.

Callum looked her in the eye. “Not on this bed. Never on this bed.” He didn’t let her say a word as he got off the bed and walked to the door. But then he paused and hung his head low. “I’m sorry, Peyton. You don’t understand how much that bed means to me,” he said sadly before he opened the door and left her room and then the house.

Peyton let her head fall back as she stared at the ceiling and listened to the sound of the water rushing out of the tap. She forced her eyes shut and tried to forget the image of him crying. Tried to forget the desperation. Tried to forget the apology and regret. But forgetting wasn’t happening. It continuously burned holes through her chest.

Never on this bed.

She slowly opened her eyes and looked down at the bubbled water of the tub.

“Why my bed?” she thought out loud and turned off the tap. “Why didn’t he use the safe word?”

Why didn’t I use it?

Peyton’s hands covered her face. “Because I didn’t want to use it. I couldn’t.”

She quickly placed her hands on either side of the porcelain tub and submerged herself under the hot water in an attempt to drown herself. Death was an easier solution…if she weren’t so afraid of dying. Instead, she started counting.

One.

You.

Two.

Still.

Three.

Love.

Four.

Him.

Peyton jerked out from under the water, gasping. Once her breathing settled, she wiped her face of the bubbles then shook her head. She was still in love with him. The concept was one she didn’t welcome. She couldn’t.

“Oh, God,” she cried. “No. Anyone. Love anyone but him.”

The sound of a new text message had her looking over the tub to her phone on the tiled floor. Reaching over, she picked it up, water settling on the screen as she unlocked her phone.

Callum: I need to see you. Meet me tonight.

Peyton: Why?

Callum: Because you want to see me, too.

Her breath caught and she swallowed hard. No denying it. She wanted to see him. Wanted an explanation for the tears. She wanted a lot of explanations from Callum Reid.

Peyton: Where?

Callum: You know where, Peyton.

Peyton hugged her thick jacket tighter as she walked over the hill and to the lake. The sun had already set and the temperature was dropping. After her morning bath, she’d pulled out the box from under her bed. It was a box of things he had left behind and little things they’d collected together. She’d gone through the contents for the first time in over four years. She’d come across a small, dried branch of pink cherry blossoms. It was the same branch he’d broken off for her the first time they’d sat under the tree outside her window. She’d kept it and cherished it until it had found its way into the box under her bed.

Her phone vibrated, so Peyton took it out of her pocket as she walked on the hotel grounds. She read the new message from Callum.

Callum: I’ll be here waiting for you. Whenever you’re ready.

She stopped just outside the path that took her into the woods and to their circle of trees. A place in this world that she both loved and hated. A place where she felt secure and insecure. A place where he never reciprocated her love.

Peyton: I should turn back.

Callum: You should. But I don’t want you to.

Peyton: What do you want?

Callum: To be with you.

She stared at his message and swallowed hard.

Callum: And to not be with you.

Her heart plunged.

Callum: But I want to be with you. I’ve always wanted to be with you. But I couldn’t and shouldn’t. You’re smart, Peyton. It would be stupid to be with me tonight.

Peyton looked back and stared in the direction of her street and then at the path. Then she glanced down at her phone and typed.

Peyton: I’m stupid.

Peyton: And I’m foolish.

Peyton: But foremost, I am stupid.

Once the message sent, she locked her phone and returned it to her pocket. The darkened forest that met her was one she stared at for a moment before she took a step towards it.

It didn’t take long until Peyton found the circular rock, and she walked down the short incline, avoiding loose rocks and fresh mud, to see orange flashing. Slowly, she trekked through the dense foliage until she broke into the circle of trees. She stepped forward, dry leaves rustling under her foot, and Callum turned his head to her. He sat on a checker blanket, staring at the small makeshift fire that burned brightly enough to illuminate his face.

He gave her a tight smile as the vibrant red and orange of the flames reflected on his skin. She didn’t say anything as she made her way over and sat on the blanket next to him. She crossed her legs as she appreciated the warmth from the fire. Peyton didn’t look at him. Instead, she took in her surroundings. This moment resembled the night she’d lost her virginity to him. The stars were brighter now than before, but there was no fog. Last time, they hadn’t had a fire—they’d had lanterns.

The memories played heavy on her heart and Peyton shook her head to rid them. That had been the last time that he’d held her before he’d broken her heart.

“I’m sorry about this morning, Peyton,” Callum quietly said.

She turned her head to see him staring intently at the fire like he had the night he’d kissed her. Another memory. Another moment.

Peyton clenched her jaw before she spoke. “You cried, Callum.”

He flinched. “You don’t know the truth, Peyton.”

It was her turn to flinch. “Then give me the truth.”

Callum slowly turned his head until his eyes met hers. “You don’t want it,” he replied.

Her heart burst in frustration. “I want it as much as I wanted you.”

He closed his eyes for a second before he maneuvered his body so that he faced her properly. Then he looked down at his hands before meeting her eyes, the pain returning to his grey ones. Peyton leaned forward, never breaking eye contact, and gripped his shirt tight within her grasps. After a deep breath, she pulled his face close to hers, their lips almost touching.

“Why did you cry, Callum?” she asked.

She noticed his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. “Because you don’t deserve to have me in your life. I will hurt you.”

The air in Peyton’s lungs was drawn out and she was reminded just how temporary his stay is. Every inch of his face was filled with pain. Her heart wanted more, but it also wanted now. Callum couldn’t offer past his stay, but he had promised now. And in some screwed-up way, she wanted what she could have in this exact minute. In this moment, she would let her heart win.

“Then I look forward to it,” she stated, and she felt Callum flinch underneath her fingers.

My name is Peyton Spencer, and I am by far the stupidest woman on this Earth.

She nodded at her thought and ignored the way Callum’s eyes were fixated on her lips. His breathing became heavy pants, and she held his shirt tighter.

“Tell me no, Peyton. Goddammit, tell me no,” he begged desperately.

Her eyes met his before she whispered, “Yes,” and brought his lips to hers.

Her head screamed at how irresponsible she was being, but she couldn’t help herself. There was an undeniable draw to him. It had been there for as long as she could remember. Stupidity and heart were winning. Whatever she could have now, she’d rather take. No matter if a broken heart was what lay ahead of her.