“Then he should have been there when she buried Cindy and Stuart,” Jay growled and shrugged his father’s hand off his shoulder. He took a step and put his face as close to Callum’s as possible—to the point where their foreheads were almost touching. “You hurt her or even make her cry, you answer to me. Don’t think that I’m afraid to hurt a city boy like you. Don’t think for a minute that you’re one of us. You spoilt son of a bitch left behind something special. You weren’t there to see her cry. You weren’t there when she found out they’d died.”
Peyton winced. She had never seen Jay so forceful or terrifying. But she knew that he was protecting her. He had been there when she’d found out that her parents had died. They had been walking down Main Street when Sergeant Downs parked his police car next to them and told her the news. Hit and run. Her parents had died instantly an hour outside of the town’s limits.
“Stop it, Jay,” Peyton said sternly.
His eyes locked on hers and she shook her head at him—a warning to lay it to bed. It was the single worst moment in her life and he was digging it back up for the whole pub to hear. Peyton hadn’t just lost her parents. The town had lost their friends.
Peyton stepped towards her table and collected her work. She was stacking the files when she heard Jay say her name. That’s when she stuck her hand up at him to stop him from saying any more.
“You’ve said enough, Jay. I don’t need your protection or for you to make a statement on my behalf. Leave it. And you, Callum, are leaving with me before Jay does something that I’m going to hate him for.” Peyton reached over and took Callum’s wrist in her hand.
He tensed under her touch, but she ignored him, dragging him away.
As she walked towards the pub doors, she heard Jay say, “Don’t you fall in love with him, Peyton. Don’t you do that to me.”
With a heavy sigh, Peyton placed her work papers on her desk and slipped out of her jacket, resting it on her the chair. She searched through the bundle of papers until she came across the Reynolds’ menu. Smoothing it out, she separated it from the other documents.
“I remember when this place used to be so…”
Callum’s voice stopped, and she turned around to see him looking around the office. It was far different than what he’d known when he was seventeen.
“Alive?” Peyton deadpanned.
She noticed his quick flinch at her words and smiled to herself.
“Not the word I was going for,” Callum said as he walked towards the bookcase.
“Well, things die. The heart of this place died along with my parents.” Her eyes followed his movements as he inspected the wall before facing her.
“It’s gone,” Callum breathed.
The way his mouth formed a frown had her feeling guilty.
Turning to her left, she looked out at the lake. Since his return, she’d spoken more about her parents than she had at any other time in the last four years. The burning sensation in her eyes had her trying to blink it away.
“I had to take it down. I couldn’t see their faces every day,” Peyton explained. When the burning left her, she faced him.
“I’m sorry,” he said softy.
Peyton tensed. “For what?”
“Everything. I was a kid, Peyton. I was seventeen. I didn’t know what I was doing. I just knew that I had to leave. I couldn’t stay.”
He couldn’t stay. Peyton let that simmer in her thoughts. Couldn’t and wouldn’t were two different words with two different meanings. Just like Callum. He used different words that didn’t match their actual meaning.
“How do you know Oscar?” Peyton asked, dodging the question of the past and reaching for the menu.
When he didn’t reply straight away, she glanced at him with a ‘go on’ expression on her face.
“He was one of the first people I met once I got to the city. We went to high school together and then uni… Where’s the staff…the guests? Where is everyone?”
Peyton placed the menu down and walked around her desk, sitting in the large leather chair. “The hotel’s under a blackout period. No guests or staff for two weeks until I figure out how I want to run and own it.”
“It’s funny,” Callum said before he reached the desk and leant forward until his face was close to hers. “This is the most we’ve spoken since I got back. You haven’t told me to fuck myself or get the fuck off your property.” He gave her a smirk but his eyes were laced with regret, almost like he was sad to see her.
Her eyes squinted. “Go fuck yourself, Callum, and get off my property,” she slowly drawled out.
“Like the time you told me that you didn’t want me to kiss you—nothing but a lie. I know you, Peyton. When you drag out your sentences like that, it’s a challenge. But that’s not what I want with you.” Callum pulled back and stood straight, his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
Before Peyton could even speak, he stopped her when he let out a deep sigh. Then he pulled his hand out of his pocket, combing his fingers through his hair.
“How long have you and Jay been together?”
She flinched in her seat. They had all grown up together. Jay and his friends were a few years older, but when Jay had graduated high school, he’d stayed behind. And when Callum had left, she and Jay had gotten closer, just like how she and Graham had.
“I’m not with Jay,” she bit back more defensively than she would have liked.
“Seems like he’s in love with you, Peyton.”