She tilted her head, trying to understand why she wanted to be near someone who’d broken her heart. But first loves were the ones that couldn’t be let go. Every poet and writer was right. First loves defined the person you became. They became memorable.
Breathing in deeply, she removed the blanket and moved into his arms, shifting before pressing her back into his chest. The tilt of her head allowed his chin to perfectly rest on her shoulder. After a moment of being still, Callum wrapped his arms around her. Just the feel of him holding her caused an immediate pang in her heart.
He turned her left hand over. “Your dad said we were terrible liars and I was a bad influence. He always knew when I snuck you out. As long as I got you home, he was okay with us. He said you were happy being with me,” he murmured.
She closed her eyes to stop the tears from flowing at the memory of her father and savoured this moment. Her time with Callum had seemed limited and she’d wanted to keep it, never having admitted that to him. This was a form of closure. Sometime soon, she’d find the goodbye that he’d neglected to give her. One she hoped had an explanation.
Callum’s fingertips trailed along her index finger and over her promise ring before tracing circles along her palm. Over and over again, he continued. She was slipping from her stance, her heart heating and throbbing. Peyton kept her eyes closed tight, enjoying the sensation of being lost in him.
“I was happy being yours, Peyton. I really was. I promised your father that I’d never hurt you and I failed him… I failed you and I failed us.”
The tracing stopped, and Peyton opened her eyes.
Callum rested their hands on her stomach, and she didn’t take her eyes away from the dresser that leant against the wall. The way his breathing hit her skin caused her to shiver unwillingly. Her attempts to conceal her shiver had been a lost cause.
“Are you cold?” he asked, wrapping her tight in his arms.
She ignored his question, resting her head against the side of his face. She was getting too lost in this moment with him. But she couldn’t pry herself away. She wanted his body against hers, like old times. Seventeen-year-old Peyton was winning. And she was a na?ve girl caught up in the illusion of forever.
“Why am I letting you in my bed…or my life, Callum?” she asked, studying his large hands against hers.
He sighed. “I don’t even know. I’m surprised that you haven’t fought me like you did in the forest. That bump must be more serious than I thought.”
She was surprised at the honest chuckle that escaped her. The aching thumps in her head didn’t deter her from smiling. It all felt too familiar, and for tonight, she’d enjoy this. She’d forget it like she’d forget the storm.
Closing her eyes, she turned and moulded herself to his body. With a deep inhale, she breathed in his familiar smell, but this time, it was mixed with the hint of rain and candle wax. The scent of him, combined with her exhaustion, and sleep was winning. No longer wanting to fight against her tiredness, Peyton placed her hand on his chest. Then he hugged her tighter. Relaxing the muscles of her body, Peyton lay listening to the sound of his fast heartbeat and breathing.
Nuzzling into Callum’s hard and warm body, Peyton sighed and gave sleep its inevitable victory. Her fingers grazed his chest as she breathed in deeply, finding a familiar comfort and security in his arms. “What is this between us, Callum?” she asked, slipping into unconsciousness.
Somewhere far away, she felt a squeeze of her hand and then heard a voice whispering, “A sometimes moment.”
Bang!
Peyton gasped as she sat up from her sleep. She looked around her room, disorientated. When a sudden pain hit her head, she quickly placed her hand over her forehead to relieve it, but it was pointless. It came in thumps, one after the other.
Another bang led her to find that her bedroom door was open.
“What happened last night?” she groaned.
After throwing the blanket off her body, she slipped out of bed and walked over to the door. When she noticed that the curtains had been pushed aside slightly, her feet automatically took her to the window. Peyton moved the curtains farther apart and saw cherry blossoms falling from the tree as branches swayed with the wind. She stared at the way the light broke through and touched the petals of the pink flower.
“Good morning, Peyton.”
Oh God, it wasn’t a horrible dream.
Closing her eyes, Peyton sighed before she turned around to see him by the bedroom door. His eyes were a bright grey, but they couldn’t mask the hint of regret she saw—one that deserved to be there. In the light, he was beautiful. Last night, the darkness had kept him in the shadows, allowing her some sort of shield from him. But now, visibility was clear. She officially hated last night’s storm…and Mrs West’s cat, Mr Lucky.
Peyton leant against the windowsill and looked at Callum. Her eyes travelled down to see him holding a plate.
“What do you have there?” she asked.