by Lulu Pratt
It just wasn’t that simple.
I was starting to realize that no matter what I did, Carter and Abigail were going to get married. I couldn’t stop it no matter what I did. I had to accept it and try to make my peace with it or risk losing my best friend forever.
Callie had been a good friend to Abigail, and by extension, a good friend to Carter. She was making his dream come true too. I had been a dick to her as much as I had to everyone else, and I was starting to think I owed her an apology. She had come to shit all over me at the bar, but she’d had a reason, and I finally had my head out of my ass enough to realize what I’d been doing. She hadn’t deserved any of what I had done. None of this had been her fault.
I wanted to talk to her.
I went to her offices on Monday. I expected that was where she would be, but when I arrived, the offices were closed. The posted hours on her door told me she was closed Mondays and Tuesdays unless she was there by appointment. Fuck.
I pulled out my phone and dialed her number, pressing the phone to my ear. I waited for her to answer, hoping she would even though she had no good reason to want to talk to me. Surprisingly, she answered.
“I don’t have a lot of time to talk,” she said, which told me she had known it was me.
“I won’t be long,” I said. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to meet up for a drink tonight to chat. I want to get a few things off my chest.”
Callie hesitated for a moment before she agreed. I was surprised but glad. I had expected to have to beg a lot more before she agreed to see me. I didn’t mind having to grovel a little, but I was relieved I didn’t have to. I arranged with her to go to a restaurant she knew. I had no idea what restaurants were around town. I would meet her there at eight. To pick her up felt too much like a date, and it wasn’t what this would be.
As much as I was interested in her, as much as I was attracted to her, this was about apologizing.
The restaurant Callie had chosen was a nice place, easy to find and nothing too dressy. I didn’t feel uncomfortable.
I was taken to a table in the back where Callie was already seated, drinking a glass of water. She looked weary when she saw me and stood up to greet me. I held out my hand, not expecting her to accept a hug. She took my hand and squeezed it before we sat down again.
“Do you want to order something to drink?” Callie asked and lifted her hand to flag a waitress. When the waitress arrived, I ordered a whiskey. I needed something to back me up.
“Are you eating?” Callie asked.
I shook my head. I had too much to get off my chest.
We made small talk for a short while, talking about the weather, about how close it was to the wedding, about the plans that were still left to be made.
“I’m sure you didn’t come here to talk about the wedding plans,” Callie said after I’d finished my first glass of whiskey and ordered another. She ordered wine, and I felt better that I wasn’t drinking alone anymore.
“I didn’t,” I said. “I came to apologize for my behavior since we met. I was rude and inappropriate, and I’m sorry about that.”
Callie looked at me like she wasn’t sure what I was playing at.
“You’re apologizing for it now? What changed?”
I pulled up my shoulders. “I realized it doesn’t matter what I do. Carter is going to marry that woman.”
“Abigail.”
“Abigail. Sorry. I’m here because I realized I can’t do anything to stop this. I’m giving up.”
Callie shook her head. “I don’t understand,” she said.
“I’m here to say I’m sorry because I know I was wrong.”
“That’s not what I don’t understand. I get that. What I don’t understand is why you’re so set against them getting married. I know it’s fast, and I was a little uncomfortable with that too. But you must have seen how good they are together. They really do love each other.”
I nodded, turning my glass around and around on the table.
“They are in love. But you see, this isn’t the first time Carter was so in love. This isn’t the first time for any of this. He was married before.”
Callie gasped. “What happened?” she asked.
I swallowed hard, struggling to spit out the words.
“She died. She was in a terrible car accident, and she didn’t make it through. Their wedding anniversary would have been this past Saturday. Their wedding date is so close to the previous one. It’s getting to me.”
I took a deep breath. I struggled to keep a handle on my emotions, but I would get through this. It was important that someone knew. Carter was ignoring it. John was pretending everything was fine. I was the only one who seemed to still be in mourning of everything that had been lost. Someone else ought to know.
“That’s why you were so upset on Saturday,” Callie said, putting two and two together. I had been a mess that day, barely able to hold a normal conversation while everyone had celebrated the coming wedding like it was the best thing that had ever happened. But I had seen the best thing that had ever happened. I’d been there, and I’d witnessed it firsthand.
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Callie said. “That’s so tragic.” She looked genuinely sorry about it, and I appreciated her sympathy.
We sat in silence for a moment, and I knew she was digesting the information.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Callie said, breaking the silence, “Why does this affect you so much? I know Carter’s your best friend, and naturally, you feel his pain, but why are you so opposed to the match and so affected by his tragic past?”
I took another deep breath and blew it out with a shudder. This was the moment of truth. This was where I had to put my pain into something someone else could hold in their hand. The bitter truth was like a pebble in my mouth, and if I wasn’t careful, I would choke on it.
“Carter’s deceased wife was my little sister, Jenna.”
I saw the facts hit Callie like a physical punch. I saw her face change as she put everything I had said and done into perspective, as she tasted my pain. A lump rose in my throat, and I felt like a fool for wanting to cry about it, for being in public and not having a handle on my emotions. I took deep breaths again and again.
“Grayson, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
I shook my head. “Not a lot of people do. The few who do know pretend that it never happened. They’re so set on moving forward, they’re forgetting what happened. That hurts almost more than Carter remarrying, that he’s found someone to love again when Jenna was perfect. In every way.”
Callie nodded and swallowed hard as if she felt like crying too. She reached across the table and took my hand, squeezing it. The physical touch, the warmth of her sympathy, was something I hadn’t felt in a long time.
“I can’t begin to understand your pain,” Callie said. I looked up at her, and her eyes were drowning deep, filled with something I imagined to be compassion.
“But I am here for you if you want to talk about anything. I understand why you’ve acted the way you did now. I don’t think it was right, but I get it. And I can be here for you.”
“Why?” I asked.
She pulled up her shoulders. “Because I was in an accident a while ago too. I was lucky to be alive. I think about that every day, about what it means to be alive.”
“A car accident?” I asked.
Callie nodded. “Since then, I’ve been trying to touch the lives of the people I meet when I can. I was spared for a reason, you know?”
I nodded. “I wish I could be so noble about it.”
“We’re not in the same boat. But I’d like to be there for you. I’m sorry you’re hurting.”
No one had said that to me since Jenna had died. Everyone had said that they were sorry for my loss. Everyone had told me how sorry they were she was gone. But no one had told me they were sorry I was hurting. After a while, the pain had become something I was used to, but the loneliness that came with losi
ng a sister was something not even Carter had been able to understand.
“It’s easy for Carter to marry again. He’s replacing Jenna in a way. It will never be the same, obviously, but he’s filling that emptiness again. But I can never do that. I can never get another sister.”
Callie leaned forward and hugged me. It was so unexpected, it caught me off guard. I closed my arms around her body and held tightly onto her. She was alive and well, and I had to hold onto it as tightly as I could. My emotions raged inside me, and I felt like they were going to rip me apart. I didn’t know how to keep it all in, how to handle it without a release.
As if Callie knew what I was thinking, she moved her face to mine, her lips inches from mine, almost an offering.
And I took it. I kissed her. My hands slid up to her hair, and my tongue slipped into her mouth, and I needed to be with her. I wanted her so badly. My dick was suddenly hard in my pants, my body aching for her.
I broke the kiss, and I was breathing hard as if I had been running. I swallowed hard.
“Do you want to come back to my place?” Callie asked.
I nodded. At that moment, I loved her. I loved her for trying to save me. I loved her for knowing what I needed. I loved her for giving me an escape from the bitterness that ate away at my insides until I was only a shell of what I used to be.
Chapter 17
Callie
I unlocked the door to my apartment, and Grayson followed closely behind me. I was hyperaware of him at my back, the energy between us charged and so strong, it almost hummed in my ears. We had talked about heart-wrenching things at the restaurant, but this was about sex, about a release, about finding a channel for all that pent-up emotion before Grayson exploded.
I was starting to understand him. He used me as an escape from his feelings. Somewhere at the back of my mind, I thought I should have been upset that he was using me as a space to get rid of his emotional baggage, but oddly, I was okay with that. Deep down, I believed it was more than just that for him, that he wouldn’t have done it with anyone and that I was the one person he felt he could open up to without getting hurt.
It was flattering. And hot as hell. Grayson was still an Adonis, so fucking hot. I melted when he looked at me the way he had looked at me at the restaurant. I wanted to be his savior.
The door was barely closed before Grayson was on top of me. He pushed me against the front door, pinning my body with his the way he had at the club, and I gasped. The memory, the familiarity of the hard cock he ground into me, making me wet. He kissed me, and I moaned into his mouth. Grayson’s hand went to my throat, holding me but not hurting me. I was aware of his strength, that he could crush me if he wanted to, that he was fully in control. And I wanted it. I wanted him to take me any way he wanted. I wanted him to use me to get rid of all the pain and fear and despair he obviously felt. I wanted to be the person who made him feel better.
Grayson kissed me again, his tongue sliding into my mouth, exploring me, probing. He slid both hands to my breasts and massaged me, pinching my nipples so it was just this side of pain, making every fiber in my body tremble with desire.
Grayson moved his hands to my arms and moved them up, sliding his hands to my wrists and pinning them above my head. He held my wrists with one hand so he could explore my body with the other, and he kissed my neck while he ran his hand down my body. I shivered with anticipation. He could have me. He could take all of me.
Grayson’s hand moved down, his hand slipping between my waistband and my skin. His fingers pushed into my panties and I widened my stance. His fingers found my slit, sliding right to my entrance where my lust had pooled and I was dripping wet. Grayson finger-fucked me, and I cried out. He alternated the onslaught with his fingers circling my clit. I was pressed up against the door, his hand still pinning my arms up. I could have broken free if I really wanted to, but who wanted to break away from a man who made me feel like I was going to go up in flames?
The orgasm started at my core and rocked my body. I cried out, and Grayson rubbed me harder and faster on my clit instead of letting up, lengthening my orgasm, stretching it out so I was consumed by pleasure.
I barely had time to recover before Grayson let go of my wrists and pulled my shirt up and over my head. I undid my pants and worked them down my legs. Stepping out of them, I was in my underwear, ready for him to ogle.
And he did. Grayson stared at me like he had never seen a woman undressed before. I was sure he had been with a lot of women, but he made me feel like I was the only one. He traced the lace cup of my bra, his fingers like feathers on my skin. He ran his hands down my body, following my curves, slow and sensual.
Grayson stepped back and pulled off his shirt, and I let my eyes wander his body too. He was as muscular as I’d expected, his body beautifully sculpted. His abs were perfect, and I reached out to touch him.
The moment my fingertips touched his skin, Grayson put his hands on my arms and spun me around, moving me to the couch. He was demanding and gentle, all at the same time. He laid me down on the couch and spread my legs with his hands. I took deep breaths, trying to keep it together. Grayson breathed in deeply.
“God, you’re so hot for me,” he said. “Your scent is like a drug.”
I blushed. I had never had a man comment on my scent, but I was immensely turned on. I could smell my own scent with my legs open. We hadn’t even done anything other than fool around, and the whole room smelled like sex already.
Grayson peeled my thong off, working it down my legs. He kissed the smooth skin on my legs as he went along. I hadn’t thought we would be doing this in a million years — I had been pissed at him when I had agreed to meet him — but I was ready for sex, and I had nothing to be shy about.
Grayson spread my legs again and lowered his face to my pussy. He blew on my lips, and I shivered. I was so aroused. Grayson licked my pussy with a flat tongue, running up from my entrance to my pubic bone, and I cried out. He stuck his tongue into my slit and started flicking it over my clit, and I shivered, sensitive after my orgasm. Grayson didn’t let up, and the discomfort turned into pleasure again.
While Grayson worked his tongue over my clit, he pushed two fingers into my entrance and slid them slowly in and out. I moaned and whimpered, squirming against his mouth. He closed his lips over my clit and sucked on it, making me jerk and spasm. I was so close to another orgasm, I begged him for release. But Grayson wasn’t going to give it to me. When he glanced up from my pussy, his lips still closed around my clit and his eyes full of mischief, I knew he was going to torture me for that orgasm.
And he did. As soon as I was close to orgasming, Grayson stopped, moving his mouth away and ceasing to pump his fingers into me. When I calmed down, he resumed, and I became more and more desperate for a release.
“God, Grayson, please,” I begged, and he chuckled.
“Please what?” he asked.
“Please, make me come again. Fuck, I need it so badly.”
Grayson’s face changed, hunger taking over. He took my hand and pulled me up. I yelped. It had been unexpected. Grayson picked me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He walked me to my bedroom and dropped me on the bed. He kicked off his jeans, and I tugged my bra off. Grayson’s eyes were on my breasts while he undressed. When we were both naked, he leaned forward, but instead of climbing between my legs, he grabbed my ankles and pulled me closer to him. I yelped again. He flipped me over so my ass was pointing at him and my legs were on the floor. I pushed up until I was standing, bracing my hands on the bed.
Grayson massaged my ass with his hands. His hard cock pushed against me, and I felt his slick pre-cum on my skin. Before he took me, he rolled on a condom. His tip found my entrance and he pushed into me. I cried out when he did, the size of him splitting me open once more. Grayson put his hands on my hips and held onto me as he started rocking back and forth, sliding his cock in and out of me. He fucked me from behind, and my breasts swayed back and forth as he rode me ha
rder and harder. My moans turned to cries, which turned to screams as he rammed into me, splitting me in half, forcing every thought out of my mind until I could only focus on how good he felt inside me.
I orgasmed again, and my body tightened around his cock. I shuddered, collapsing my arms. Grayson slowed down while I orgasmed, and I appreciated the break. He was pushing me to my breaking point, and it was fantastic, but he seemed to know when I needed a breather.
While he stroked slowly in and out of me, Grayson leaned forward and reached around me, his hands finding my breasts. He fondled me, rolling my hard nipples between his fingers, tugging at them, squeezing and massaging. I moaned and sighed, glowing with sexual bliss.
Grayson pulled out of me. It was unexpected. He seemed to like the element of surprise. He flipped me over onto my back, and my thighs fell open for him. He crawled onto the bed and pushed into me again without ceremony, his body positioned over mine, his face so close to me, I could see the three small freckles beneath his left eye. He kissed me, slowly moving his hips so he slid in and out of me. I gasped and sighed with every stroke, moving my hips with his. This time, it wasn’t about getting off, fucking me hard, getting a release. Grayson did something that felt a lot like making love, but it was a long shot to assume that was what it was.
I could justify it by my own feelings. I hadn’t thought I would fall for someone like him, but it had been below the surface for a while now. Tonight, I let go of all my inhibitions. I let my guard down, and I let myself feel what I had been wary to admit to before. For a short while, Grayson and I carved out space in a reality where we would never be together, and in that bubble, it was just us and no one else. It was us and what we could be together.
Grayson picked up his pace, and it broke the spell. The feeling of ecstasy that washed over me stopped me from caring about what it had meant or where it had gone, and I concentrated on the feel of his cock ramming into me, claiming me again and again. I cried out as Grayson fucked me harder and harder. His strokes shortened, and I felt another orgasm building. It was the third. I had never managed so many with a man before, but Grayson wasn’t just any man.