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.
Callum’s tongue found hers and they discovered a rhythm of strokes begging of desperation and control. A moan escaped her, but she didn’t care. The last time she was ever this close to anyone was when she was seventeen. In this exact same spot.
Peyton lay back on the blanket, bringing him down with her, and he settled between her thighs. They both sighed at the contact of their bodies. Every thought she managed was placed in a dark room in her mind and locked. She needed this. She needed the pain to go away. And Callum’s mouth on hers was relief.
“Oh, God,” she softly moaned the moment he moved against her. Then she arched her back, moving her lips away from his as she experienced the small burst of pleasure.
Callum’s mouth went to her neck and slowly trailed up and down, ghosting his lips along her skin. The image of him crying wouldn’t leave her and she hoped this intimate act between them would drowned it out. After Peyton found the hem of his shirt, he propped himself up and looked into her eyes. She noticed a glint to those confusing grey pools. The control was either gone or broken. One or the other. He was reluctant and she was offering. And she knew that he needed direction.
“Tell me you don’t want this, Peyton. Tell me no,” he said between heavy pants.
Peyton, tell him no. You have some pride.
When she rested her body weight on her elbows, Callum moved back onto the blanket. She swallowed hard as she removed her thick coat, the desire and interest consuming Callum’s eyes.
Make him realise his mistake of walking away.
Peyton stood up, her eyes still on his. And as her fingers reached the hem of her shirt, she said, “Four years ago, you ruined me in this spot. You broke my heart. You made love to me here. Callum…”
His eyes saddened at her reminder of their first and last time together. “Yes, Peyton.”
She ignored the way his name sounded to her heart and bent forward, placing her hands on his cheeks. Then she looked him hard in the eye and whispered, “Fuck me.”
He flinched and his nose flared. He blinked once and looked her over. This wasn’t about love. It was about releasing the tension and feeling pleasure for the first time in a long time. He couldn’t give her love.
Callum held onto her hips and brought her down to his lap. The moment she straddled him, his eyelids tightly scrunched together and he swore under his breath.
“Fuck me, Callum,” she pleaded once more.
His eyes opened quickly just in time to see her pull the shirt off her body and throw it on the ground next to the blanket.