by Erika Kelly
“So there you go. Find your shield and stand behind him.”
Oh, ouch. All at once she could see her mom’s attitude was anything but casual. “Why are you angry at me? So I need a few minutes to myself. It’s not easy for me to be around him.”
“Yes, Callie, I get that. We all get that. But it’s been six years. And if you’d just talk to him, you wouldn’t have to keep avoiding him.” Her mom blew out a frustrated breath. “Don’t you want to move on?”
The words stung. Move on? She’d done exactly that. With her undergrad and graduate degrees from NYU, she’d made her dream of living in New York City a reality. A few years from now, she’d—hopefully—become a museum curator.
She wanted to say, Look at me. There was none of the old Callie left. How could her mom not see that? “Are you kidding me? I have completely moved on. I’m a few months away from working at the MoCA. I have the best boyfriend in the world.” Who couldn’t be more different from Fin. “He and his parents have been wonderful to me. I love my life.” And, frankly, it hurt that her mom couldn’t see it.
“Yes, you’ve done a bang-up job of reinventing yourself. Congratulations. But I don’t know how you think you can start a new relationship when you haven’t closed out of the last one. You’ve got the degrees and clothes and bank account of an adult, so now act like one. Go out there and talk to Fin. Face the terrible decisions you both made so you can move on.”
Frustration and anger got her blood pumping. “I’m not an adult because I won’t talk to my ex-boyfriend? There’s nothing to talk about. He made his decision, and I made mine not to put up with his crap anymore.” It wasn’t like her mom could relate. She’d married her high school sweetheart. “Mom, he’s never going to change. This meme proves that. He’s always going to put his brothers before anyone else.” Before me. “Moving on means accepting Fin for who he is and not trying to change him. That’s closure.”
“Then why are you hiding in the laundry room at your brother’s rehearsal dinner?”
“Ellen?” The caterer leaned in. “We’re about to pass out the champagne. You want to give the heads-up to anyone giving toasts?”
“Sure.” Her mom nodded warmly, and then turned back to Callie. “Put your phone away and be here for your brother, okay?”
Callie ran her fingers over the heavy, jeweled bracelet Julian had given her for graduation. “Of course.” Heart pounding, she followed her mom out the back door. As she crossed the scarred wooden deck, she dropped her phone into her clutch, accepting that her mom was right.
Callie had lost touch with her brother; she barely even knew his bride. She wanted to get to know her four-year-old nephew and spend time with her parents without the constant worry that Fin might show up. It was time to put the past to rest and just…be home.
Stepping off the deck, she thought of Julian’s mother, the way she so fluidly and elegantly worked a room. Yes. Be Mrs. Reyes. She’d simply act like she was at an art gallery opening, and Fin was just someone in the room.
Well, someone she’d had sex with. A lot. In pretty raunchy ways. Oh, Lord.
Stop it.
Think about the meme. Because if Fin had bailed on Traci like that, then he hadn’t changed. And that emboldened her. Because it meant he could never hurt her again. She’d never give him the chance.
When she stepped onto the grass, she put her weight on her toes to keep her sharp heels from sinking into the dirt. She scanned the yard. The moment her gaze landed on Julian, the pressure on her chest lifted.
Urbane, polished, and charming, her boyfriend stood out among the other guests in their Western-wear and more casual attire. In his custom-made Brioni suit and crisp, white dress shirt, his hair slicked back off his handsome face, Julian looked like a model for a watch ad.
Callie made a bee-line for him. Weaving through round tables covered in white linens, she noticed the pink and lavender flower centerpieces with flickering candles were the only nod to décor. But with the Grand Tetons as a backdrop, what else did they need? The striking sight never grew old, especially now when twilight cast purple and peach shadows over the starkly rugged peaks.
With a smile in place, she glided past familiar faces. A jolt of anxiety zinged through her when she saw a wall of muscle blocking her boyfriend. Two of Fin’s brothers reached for champagne flutes on a wicker tray. Crap. The heel of her five-inch stiletto sank into the grass, breaking her stride. A cold sting of embarrassment shot through her, but she quickly corrected. Perspiration sprang out on her forehead. She stopped herself from patting it away so she didn’t mess up her foundation.
Fortunately, they’d moved on by the time she’d gotten there, revealing Julian’s companion.
Megan. Of course she’d known her friend would be at the wedding; she just would’ve preferred if their first reunion in years didn’t take place in front of her boyfriend. No one understood her better, though, so she had to hope her friend got why she’d fallen out of touch. “Megan. It’s so good to see you.”
But when she leaned in for a hug, her friend’s arms remained at her sides. “Hey.” She didn’t even smile.
Heat raced up Callie’s neck, enflaming her cheeks. Trying to cover for her embarrassment, she placed a hand on Julian’s biceps and channeled his mother. “I see you’ve met Megan.”
“Yes, I have.” Julian gave a gracious nod to her old friend. “We’ve been chatting about her yoga studio.”
“Well, it was nice to meet you.” But Megan’s flat tone said otherwise, and she turned to go.
Underneath the shock of her friend’s blatant rejection ran the horrifying awareness that Callie had earned it.
How in the world had she assumed Megan would understand what she’d gone through when Callie had never told her? “Megan, I—”
Her friend stopped and turned to her with a challenging expression.
Did she really want to have this conversation in front of Julian? Later tonight, she’d pull her aside and they could talk. But for now…For now, Callie needed to keep it together. “It’s great to see you. So you teach yoga? Where?”
When Megan didn’t immediately respond, Julian said, “Here. In Calamity.”
“That’s great.” But she couldn’t hide her surprise. Megan had always wanted to be in theatre.
“I keep trying to get Calliope to use my yogi, but she refuses,” Julian said.
Having grown up with obscene wealth, Julian had no understanding of her financial situation. Not only couldn’t Callie afford yoga classes, but she wasn’t about to sponge off her boyfriend. Crashing at his place is bad enough.
“Calliope?” Megan seemed surprised to hear Julian use her full name. No one did that.
“Yes.” Julian beamed a proud smile and wrapped an arm around her, tucking her in against him. His expensive cologne overwhelmed the scents of sage and mountain air. “Calliope and I met in the graduate program at NYU.” He gave her an adoring smile. “I fell in love with her the moment I saw her.”
Gratitude flooded her. She loved his unwavering devotion. But she had to fix things with Megan, so she reached for her friend’s forearm. “Hey, can we talk later? I’d love to catch up with you.”
“Behind you.” Megan gestured to a waiter offering them a tray of flutes.
“Ah, perfect.” Julian lifted two glasses and handed one to Megan and the other to Callie. He took a third one for himself before thanking the waiter. “I’m so pleased to meet Calliope’s friends and family. How long have you two known each other?”
“We met in elementary school.” Callie hadn’t told him anything about her past, so now wasn’t the time to reveal that she’d had no real friends until Megan. An introvert, she’d kept mostly to herself. Well, until she and Fin had gotten together—and then the whole world had split open. “She was my closest friend.”
Megan’s attention roamed the crowd, barely acknowledging her.
She’d try another tactic. “Do you remember that time we—”
“What’s with the hair, wild thing?” The all-too familiar deep, rough voice cracked through her like a thunderclap.
It might have been a while since she’d heard it, but her body responded like a rosebud starved for sunlight. Every cell bloomed and strained in his direction.
Her stomach lurched, and she did not want to turn around. She didn’t want to look at him. With fight or flight kicking in, it took every bit of strength she had not to run like he’d just tossed a lit match at her feet and set her on fire.
“Hey, Fin,” Megan said.
Brushing Callie’s arm as he reached across the small circle they made, Fin met Megan in the middle for a hug. His scent—that hint of sage and clean clothes, the essence of Fin—swirled around her, filling her senses and sending her crashing back in time. She had a matter of seconds to pull herself together and treat him like an acquaintance. Julian didn’t know about him, so she needed to just be normal, but turbulence scrambled her system, and her mind went blank.
And that pissed her off. She’d prepared for this moment. Hell, she’d rehearsed it. But living it, having him right here, she just…dammit. No matter how many nights she’d lain awake scripting this interaction, she couldn’t control her body’s reaction.
Come on. She gave herself an internal shake. He’s just a guy.
But when he pulled back, he turned his full attention on her and…Oh, my God.
For the first time in years, she looked Fin Bowie, in all his six feet two inches of rock-hard muscle, in the eyes. A tremble started from deep within, rising in velocity until her composure shook like a tree in a violent storm. Last time she’d seen him, he’d been a boy. A gorgeous, untamed, mischievous boy who’d kept her on edge for most of her life. His wild, free spirit made him impossible to nail down.
But the boy she’d loved so fiercely had nothing on the man who stood before her. With his overgrown dark hair and bright blue eyes, he was a shock of rugged, raw power next to her lean, elegant boyfriend.
Of course he’d worn jeans to a rehearsal dinner, the white button down shirt the only nod to the dressy occasion. Not like Julian’s pressed shirt, though. No, Fin’s looked like he’d swiped it off a pile of discarded clothes on the floor on his way out of the shower. He’d shoved the sleeves up to his elbows, exposing tanned, muscular forearms.
Julian would have carefully folded the cuff until it fell just below the elbow. And he would’ve spent a minute adjusting it in front of a mirror.
Fin didn’t own a mirror.
“Fin.” The way he tilted his head in confusion made her think she sounded more stuck-up than pleasant. Snap out of it right now. But she couldn’t—not when he looked at her as if he could see straight through her make-up and fancy clothes, right down to the trembling heart of her.
He reached for a lock of her hair and tugged it. “You iron it?”
Julian, always well-mannered, stepped back to include the new addition to the conversation. “Her hair?”
Fin tugged it again. “It’s brown.”
“That’s her natural color.” Julian’s smile remained fixed despite the crinkle on his brow. He reached out his hand. “Julian Reyes.”
“Fin Bowie.” Fin shifted his beer bottle to his other hand so they could shake, and Callie caught the moment Fin noticed the slight sheen on Julian’s manicured fingernails.
Too quickly, Fin let go and turned his attention back to her. He didn’t move closer, but somehow she felt crowded by him. The entire backyard and all its guests faded away until it was just the two of them. She could smell the mountain air on his skin. He was sun-warmed meadows and bracing snow-covered summits. He was tangled sheets and calloused hands. Bone-melting kisses and thrilling gropes in public places.
He was abject heartbreak.
“Liked it platinum.” Fin’s deep, rough voice sounded like it might crack from the heavy emotion it carried.
“Platinum?” Julian spluttered. “When have you ever colored your hair?”
“Are you serious?” Megan laughed. “How long have you known her?”
“Two years.” Julian gave Callie an assessing look.
She squeezed his hand. Later. “We should probably find our seats.”
“She used to dye it a new color every semester.” Megan had a gleam in her eyes. “That was her thing.”
“I would’ve liked to have seen that,” Julian said.
Gracious words, but she knew better. She’d have been invisible to Julian back then. He thought people who wore gauges and piercings and dyed their hair pink were compensating for a lack of authentic creativity. They showed the world how funky they were because they lacked the guts to actually create something.
“Come on.” Callie pulled on his arm. “It’s time for toasts.” She shot Fin a look. Thanks for starting this.
But instead of his usual challenging response, he just looked baffled.
“Actually, I’d love to know what she was like back then,” Julian said.
“She was a total tomboy,” Megan said. “She got into more trouble than—”
“I don’t know what a tomboy is,” Fin said. “But if you’re trying to say Callie could run faster and stomp landings and kick our asses up to Dead Man’s summit, then, yeah, she was a badass.” He turned fully to Julian. “You’re from the east coast. You grow up making snowmen?”
“I might have made one.” Julian gave a guarded smile.
“Yeah, well, my brothers and I didn’t make snow men. We made snow targets. We’d build a row of snow mounds with holes in the middle. Big hole for the first one, smaller hole for each one down the line, until the last one had a hole the size of a small skillet. We’ve got pretty good aim, but this one?” He tipped his chin toward Callie. “She was the only one of us that got a snowball through the smallest one.”
The tinkle of silver tapping glass cut the hum of conversation. Everyone turned to the head table where her brother stood. “Could you all please take your seats? We’re about to start the toasts.”
The crowd around them started moving, but Fin’s compelling gaze kept them rooted. “Tomboy?” He shrugged. “I only know that Callie was confident, strong. Fearless. Everything a woman should be.”
Her heart clenched painfully that he’d come to her defense like that, but it only took a moment to see that he wasn’t defending her at all. His gaze held no warmth.
He was just telling the truth. That’s how he sees me.
Pressure weighed on her chest—loss, regret, frustration, and pain. So much pain.
Megan gave Fin a challenging look. “Oh, cut it out. You know exactly what I mean. It’s not an insult. It’s who she was. She didn’t care about make-up or clothes. She didn’t even brush her hair half the time.”
A slow, delicious smile kicked up the corner of Fin’s mouth. “Wild thing.”
Jesus. Julian knew nothing about her past. He didn’t need to hear her old nickname or see the way Fin looked at her—like they’d just stumbled out of a closet with their hair mussed and her panties balled up in his pocket.
“I’m going to find our seats.” Callie got one step away when she heard Fin say, “Know how I became an extreme athlete?”
“I didn’t know you were an athlete, but I’d like to hear the story,” Julian said.
“Fin.” Callie gestured to the table where her brother stood waiting for the guests to settle. “Aren’t you making a toast?”
“This won’t take long.” He turned back to Julian. “We were snowboarding. Me and my brothers and Callie. Right there.” He lifted his beer bottle to the Tetons. “We wound up on this spine we’d never been on before, and we were all just flying. Time of our lives. Well, this one”—he pointed the bottle toward Callie—“flew off the edge of a cliff. Jesus, it was like…” He rubbed his lower lip with a thumb. “I thought I’d lost her. No way could anyone survive a fall like that. And it all happened so fast, it wasn’t like we could do anything to save her. One minute we’re tearing down the mountain, the next…. She was
gone. I wanted to jump off right after her, but Will, my brother, grabbed me.” He gestured with both arms what a bear hug would look like from behind. “I stood there watching her sail—free falling—sure she was going to hit a rock and crumple into a broken heap. But you know what she did?”
She doubted anyone would notice the unease beneath Julian’s fixed smile. He listened with rapt attention, yet the undercurrent of what the hell pulsed through him. He looked like he’d blinked and opened his eyes to find himself surrounded by Oompa Loompas.
But whose fault was that? She hadn’t told him any of this.
“What?” Julian’s tone was bright, interested.
“She landed it. She fuckin’ landed it. Never seen anything like it.”
Callie remembered the moment vividly. She had been in freefall. The world had gone silent, a blur of colors: white, bright blue, green. A strange stillness had settled over her, her entire being on heightened alert. The earth had come up fast, mostly rock, but a patch of glistening white called to her and she’d leaned in that direction. She hadn’t prayed or screamed or anything. Just remained perfectly still and focused.
And when she’d landed on deep, powdery snow, her bones jarring, her teeth clacking, she’d felt a heady sense of elation.
But the best moment came later when she’d come to a stop, heart flopping in her chest like a live fish on a dock. She’d looked up to see the stunned faces of all four Bowie brothers. At that point, the older ones had already made a name for themselves in snowboarding and skiing competitions in the state. They were big, brawny, fearless athletes. All of them had stood there gobsmacked.
But it was Fin’s expression—the awe, the pride—that stuck with her. She’d never doubted Fin’s love. He’d always been hers. But in that moment he’d given her something else: a profound sense of confidence.
“And on that note,” Megan said. “I’m going to sit down.” She took off through the crowd.
The moment she left, Julian said, “So, piecing things together here, you two dated?”