by Sarah Skye
Her gorgeous mouth is curved down in a frown. “I needed time, Calder. I—”
I hold up a hand to silence her. “Sorry, love, but hush. I’m not done. It wasn’t a question I wanted an answer to, because the truth is it doesn’t fucking matter. It doesn’t change things for me. It doesn’t do a damn thing but make me even more sure.”
“Sure?” Her voice trembles, those eyes too bright yet again. “I know, Calder. I—”
“Hush and let me do this,” I chuckle, letting my hands slip to her waist. She tenses, but she doesn’t step away. “I’m sorry, darling. So very sorry for what I did, for how I acted. I swear on anything you want me to that I will never pull a caveman move like that again. It wasn’t anything to do with thinking you didn’t know what you needed. It wasn’t to do with thinking you couldn’t tell him to fuck off all on your own or doubting your strength.”
I take a deep breath. Saying it in a speech was easy. Saying it in this tiny closet is a whole other matter. But I’m past ready to say these words to Lily Maldonado.
“It was everything to do with loving you so damn much that seeing that scumbag trying to pressure you snapped something in my brain. I know, I know, I won’t let it happen again, but I’m new at this. And I-” I break off with a self-deprecating laugh and touch my forehead to hers. “I am so deeply in love with you. I just hope you can forgive me. I trust you, Lily. I hope you’ll trust me when I say I will let you fight all your battles moving forward if you want. But I’ll be much better off if we move forward together.”
Her hands flutter up and rest on my chest, but all I get is wide-eyed silence for so long that I finally clear my throat. “Right, so now would be a good moment for you to say something, maybe.”
28
Lily
I’m speechless. As I stand here, crammed in the coat closet with Calder, my hands pressed on his chest and my eyes locked with his, I don’t know what to say.
He’s said everything I’ve ever wanted him to… but it makes no sense anymore. Because it goes in direct opposition of what he said yesterday when I overheard him at Billy’s Sports Bar.
I open my mouth and try to speak. Nothing but a stuttered noise comes out. Calder’s eyes widen, then he swallows. As the seconds pass, his grip on my waist loosens.
“Lily. Love. Please. I’m dying here.” A sad-sounding chuckle falls from his lips. His blue-green eyes gleam with worry. “Say something. Anything.”
“Sorry, I just….”
The corner of his mouth quirks up and the slightest bit of worry melts from his face. “What did I say about saying sorry?”
I let out the smallest laugh. “Okay. I take back the sorry.”
For a second we both just smile at each other. And then I swallow and say it all.
“Hearing you say that—hearing you say you love me—is… everything. It’s all I wanted to hear.”
Calder claps a hand to his chest and groans. “Then what’s with the long silence? Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Because you’re doing a bang-up job of it.”
Smiling, I grab both his wrists and lower them to his sides. I raise an eyebrow at him. “Hush, and let me say this.”
He flashes a smirk at how I’ve borrowed his phrase.
“I’m just thrown because you said you didn’t love me.”
That smirk drops into a frown. “What? I never said that.”
“You did,” I say gently. “At the sports bar yesterday.”
My throat tightens at the memory of his words, but I swallow and press on.
“I was walking up to the booth where you were sitting, but then I heard you on the phone. I heard what you said about not being the kind of guy who falls in love… about how pointless relationships are.”
His brow shoots to his hairline. “Lily, I—”
“Please.” I gently squeeze his wrists. “Just let me get this out, okay?”
Pursing his lips, he starts to nod. But then he shakes his head. “No. Fuck that. I’m bloody sick and tired of letting this misunderstanding screw us up.”
Now I’m the one frowning. “What misunderstanding? I heard what you said.”
That gentle smile I love so much tugs at his lips. “Maybe so, but you only heard one side of the conversation.”
A bulb goes off in my head. Shit. He’s right.
“I was talking to my sister, getting advice from her about how to make things right with you. She could tell how wrecked I was over you. So I laid it all out for her. I told her how crazy I am about you, how I couldn’t get you out of my head after that first class together, how I did a pisspoor job of faking a relationship because my feelings for you were and still are very, very real. I told her how you make me happier than I’ve ever been, and how I fucked it all up that night with Marco and didn’t know how to fix it. I needed her help to make this right with you because as a man who hasn’t really been in love in my life, I had no idea what I was doing. I was going out of my mind without you.”
My heart pounds and my mouth parts open as I try to breathe. It all makes sense now.
“So yes, Professor. You’re half right. I was never the kind of guy to fall in love or to ever want to be in a relationship. Until I met you.”
A long pause hangs in the air between us.
Calder clears his throat. “So—”
I grab him by the lapels of his jacket and pull his mouth to mine. And then I kiss him until my mouth aches. When we break, our chests are heaving. We’re sucking all the air out of this closet.
“Bloody hell,” he says with a laugh while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Okay,” I say through a sigh, my hands still on his chest. “I’m done with all these misunderstandings, so I’m going to say everything I need to say right now.” I take a breath. “First of all, I’m so, so sorry I stood you up yesterday. You’re right. I shouldn’t have made that judgment based on only hearing your end of the conversation. Second, I won’t do that ever again—I won’t ever jump to conclusions and run away. I promise I will stay and work things out with you. Even if that means we fight like crazy… because I’d rather fight with you than lose you.”
I take a breath. “And third, I’m sorry for how I iced you out when you punched Marco. Yes, I needed time to process what happened, but I shouldn’t have cut off communication with you like that. I’ll never be okay with violence, but...I understand why you reacted that way. You were reacting out of protectiveness for me.”
He nods and tucks a chunk of my hair behind my ear.
“And even though I can take care of myself, I like that you feel protective of me.”
The look in his eyes softens even more. “You’ve got my whole heart, love. I can’t help it.”
“No more cold-cocking douchebags, okay?”
He smirks. “Okay.”
“And fourth.”
“There’s a fourth?” he chuckles.
“It’s a good one, I promise.”
A smile lingers on his lips.
“Fourth is this: I am completely in love with you, Calder Ross. And I’ve been in love with you since the first time you rocked my world in your bed.”
His eyes widen, and that sexy smirk of his reappears.
“That probably sounds… creepy.”
“It does not,” he says, his voice soft. “It’s bloody hot, Professor.”
He cups my cheek with his hand. I close my eyes and hum. It feels so, so good to have his hands on me like this again. Then he pulls me to his mouth. Once again we’re a breathless tangle of tongues and gasps.
We stop and rest our foreheads against each other.
“Fifth,” he growls. “No more faking for us. Ever again. Everything we do from this point on will be real and true. I can’t exist any other way with you.”
“I can’t fake anything with you, Calder. Not when I love you this much.”
I fight the cringe inside of me. I don’t think I’ve ever sounded so cheesy.
But Calder slip
s his hands around my waist and pulls me tight against him. When he looks at me, I’m breathless. His whole heart is in his gemstone eyes. Instantly, that cringe feeling disappears. He feels the same way about me. My heart pounds a new rhythm as we stand here, together, in this moment, two people completely and utterly in love.
“Neither can I, love.”
29
Epilogue
10 Months Later
Calder
I’m a Highlander. It’s a very noble thing, full of pride and ancient tradition. I don’t flinch at danger or blood. A warrior like me is always ready for battle.
But even though I’m shirtless and driving with the windows down on a cool October evening, my palms are sweating. When Lily left the house, I was sprawled on the sofa in my sweats and hoodie. Ten minutes later, I had my kilt buckled, my hair sorted, and my sporran most definitely full. Then, I raced out to my car so I could get there on time. Thank god she’s the kind of sensible person who drives no more than 5 miles over the speed limit. That means I can flood the engine and absolutely floor it, which takes just a hint of edge off my nerves.
It’s not that I’m nervous, per se. It’s just that I want this to be perfect so badly that I have literally torn the cuticle off my thumb from planning it.
My phone rings on the Bluetooth, jolting me out of intense focus. Adrenaline shoots my gut when I see the caller is “Professor.”
“Everything alright, love?” I say when I tap the dash.
“Yeah. I don’t know, I just wanted to hear your voice.”
I laugh. “You heard my voice not half an hour ago.”
“Are you suggesting I shouldn’t have asked for what I want?” Her tone is saucy, but I can hear her smile.
“Now, Professor, you know I’d never do such a thing. I take it back. Shall I read to you, then, so you can continue to hear my voice?”
Her musical laugh breaks through. “No, and I know it’s silly. Just, I don’t know. I’m excited to be going out with the girls, but part of me just kind of wants to be snuggling you on our couch—like we do basically every night.”
“Mm, aye, before we go do a very different kind of snuggling on the bed.”
“Exactly,” she grumbles.
Another laugh rumbles in my chest. “Don’t you worry, love. There will be plenty of time to paint and drink with the girls, then be worshipped until late into the night, I promise.”
“I knew there was a reason I needed to hear your voice.”
“Because you love me.”
She giggles again. “Because I love you. And not just for your body. Or your tongue. Or your…”
“Sense of humor?”
“I was going to say kilt.”
We both laugh at that, and then Lily says, “Are you driving too? It sounds like you’re in the car.”
Shit. Just when this silly banter had started to relax me and make me believe this was a good idea, I’m on the verge of spoiling it all. “Eh, thought I’d go to Billy’s and watch the replay of the match since you’re out. Cry into a pint that the most beautiful girl in the world isn’t beside me, but better than crying at home, now innit?”
“Sounds like a good night. Enjoy—but, um, I want you to be home before me. Please. Is it okay that I—ugh, I’m still working on the bold thing, I guess.”
“Try again then.”
She clears her throat. “Enjoy your night, Calder, but I want you to be home and ready to throw me on the bed when I text you. Got it?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“God, I love you,” she says through her giggles. “Okay, see you later.”
“Hopefully sooner.” Now, I can tease about it. She has no idea, and dammit, I think this is the perfect plan.
Lily hangs up as I pull into the shopping center and park beside the restaurant two shops down from my destination. My car is noticeable; best to avoid being seen.
Morgan is on the corner, just apart from the outdoor diners, and she beams when she sees me. “Hurry, she’ll be here soon!” she shouts.
And so I adjust my kilt and break into a jog. The patrons drop their forks and jaws at the sight of a shirtless highlander running down this little strip mall, but I just grin and wink as I go past. Ladies blush, men chuckle, and I am so damn ready to make this happen.
30
Epilogue
Lily
"So. How's life with your hunky model boyfriend?" Morgan's question comes out in a huffy breath.
I squint at her as she settles in next to me at the sketch table, wondering why it sounds like she went for a jog instead of a quick trip to the bathroom to wash her hands like she said.
I’m about to ask her why she’s so out of breath when an image of Calder lounging on our sofa in sweats, looking scruffy and delicious, flashes in my mind. I’m instantly distracted.
Life with Calder Ross has been a fantasy come true. Sure, we argue and disagree like any other couple. It turns out that Calder doesn’t care about making the bed or unloading the dishwasher right away like I do. He turns the volume on the TV way too loud. And it's near constant shouting in the house every time his beloved soccer team plays. I can never remember the name, which drives him crazy when he’s screaming himself hoarse over whatever is going on.
But all of that is trivial. Because I’ve never been so happy. It doesn't matter if we're cuddled up on the couch watching Netflix. Or hunched over my potter's wheel as I'm trying to teach him how to sculpt properly while he's cracking jokes. Or I'm ogling him shamelessly whenever he lets me sit in on a photo shoot. Or we're enduring a long family dinner at my parents' house. Or we're Skyping with his parents and sister, and he's trying his best to translate their crazy thick Scottish accents for my American ears.
It's all bliss.
Joy surges at the center of my chest. "So happy," I whisper to myself.
Morgan smirks while shaking her head. "You're so smitten, it's sickening."
I chuckle, and she nudges me. It feels good to have my best friend back. I missed her good-natured teasing the months she was gone. Now that her grandma's recovered from surgery, Morgan and I are back to hanging out every other day.
I glance around the space. "Is it weird that we've never done a class like this before?"
"Yes. You're an art professor. I'm a model. This stuff is our bread and butter. I figured now is as good a time as any to try a wine and art class, on our first proper girls night since I've been back home."
Morgan checks her phone for the millionth time since we arrived. For a second, I wonder if there's something up with her grandma.
"Everything okay?" I ask.
"Yeah, fine. Just wondering if Harmony's ever going to show up."
I sip my glass of white wine, given to us by the woman who owns the studio. Strange, but she hasn't been back to check on us since dropping off our drinks. Even stranger, I suddenly notice, is the room is completely empty. We’re the only ones signed up for tonight’s class.
"Oh wait, she's about to walk in," Morgan says with yet another glance at her phone.
Never in a million years did I ever think I'd be friends with Harmony. But we are. And to my surprise, she's a pretty amazing friend. We're not besties—Morgan would kill me if I ever considered anyone other than her my best friend. But ever since she and Marco broke up, we've hung out a handful of times, and it's been a blast. We've clocked in two yoga classes and one bar crawl together. Even Morgan—who hated Harmony because of how she treated me as a kid—has warmed up to her.
Just then, Harmony walks in the door clad in skin-tight leather pants and a shimmery top, her long blonde hair styled into perfect barrel curls. Morgan and I, in our jeans and plain shirts, look slovenly in comparison.
"Sorry I'm late!" she announces with a wave of her arm. "My date ran a bit late."
She plops down on the other side of me and gives me a kiss on the cheek.
"With that hot chef?" Morgan asks, her eyes on her phone yet again.
Harmony bites her
lip as she smiles. "Yup. He cooked for me at his restaurant before the dinner service started. It was just us two in the whole place. He even lit candles."
"That's so sweet. And super romantic," I say. "He's so into you."
Harmony's peaches-and-cream complexion lights up bright pink. "I hope so."
I pat her arm and reassure her that he absolutely does. I've only seen them together once, when he stopped by to say hi to Harmony after his shift while we were out having a drink together. But even in that short interaction, I could tell the guy had serious heart eyes for Harmony. He looked at her like she was the only woman in the room.
Harmony twists around me to look at Morgan. "I'm so hooking you up with his sous chef. He's single and ridiculously handsome."
"I don't date restaurant guys,” she says sternly.
I recall just how heartbroken Morgan was a year ago when she found out that her restaurant owner ex-boyfriend of five years was cheating on her. Since then she's sworn off all guys in the industry.
Harmony's frowns. "Why not? He's, like, crazy hot. And tall. He's got muscles for days. And he volunteers at this after school program for elementary school kids on his days off.”
Morgan swallows, and I think I see a bit of her resolve melt away. I nudge her softly.
“No restaurant guys,” she says.
I know better than to argue with her, so I pat Harmony's hand. "I'll explain later. Are we seriously the only ones in this class? I thought it would be packed."
Harmony stutters just as Morgan clears her throat.
I twist my head from side to side, eyeing them both. "What is going on with you guys?"
Just then, the door to the studio creaks open. My jaw drops.
There stands Calder, dressed like he stepped out of a Scottish highlander romance.
I stammer as he takes his time walking up to me, his signature smirk plastered on his smug face. He's wearing nothing but a kilt, boots, and that little waist bag thing that I can never remember the name of. His bare, broad chest shines beneath the fluorescent lights.
