Page 5

5

CALLUM

T he second party—God knows how many they plan on hosting to accommodate all their wealthy, powerful, and influential friends—is in full swing when we arrive. The hum of polite laughter filling the gilded banquet hall grates my nerves. I hate being here, but, like Caroline, I don’t have much choice.

After her divorce from my father, he left Mother in charge of MY money as if I was thirteen while he gallivanted all around Europe and Asia. I could get my hands on the trust fund my grandmother left me, but only after I reached twenty-five. Four more fucking years. Parents of the year, let me tell you.

The air smells like expensive perfume and food, mingling with the faint tang of wealth and hypocrisy. My mom’s people, I should say, and based on what Caroline has told me so far, she and her new husband are a match made in social climbing heaven.

Before, my life goal was to be like Dad, to fuck my way all over two continents and never settle. But that was before I met Caroline. I woke up the next morning after the club, knowing I would never be the same. I caught fire and, in the space of a few seconds, was engulfed in it.

Even now, I can’t take my eyes off her. With her beauty and the energy she radiates, I am helpless. All I can do is stare and stare and stare.

And as she walks beside me, her head held high, her cheeks flushed from fucking, her face glowing, I feel like I conquered something … or someone. The thought that she’s mine, all mine, makes my chest constrict in a funny way.

It has never happened before. Me being this possessive. Like I want to fly her away to a castle on a deserted island so no one else can see her beauty but me.

I sweep my gaze around the room and find our parents holding court by the stage. From the outside, they look like the perfect couple—good stature, plenty of zeroes in their bank accounts, a massive house, a yacht, and Mom’s trunk full of jewelry.

Caroline and I know better, though.

This is all for show. They’re the type of people who will smile, laugh, and be good-natured in public, but behind closed doors, they’ll ignore each other. After all, what’s the point of pretending when there’s no audience?

“Are we supposed to pretend to be one big happy family?” she whispers to me, clutching my arm and setting me on fire with a simple, innocent touch.

I squeeze her small hand, not missing the way she tries to suppress a shudder. The way the energy flows between us both ways will always be amusing. She’s just as lost in me as I am in her, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. “Mom’s an expert at that. I always thought she missed her calling as an actress.”

“Same with Dad because validation is the only thing that matters. He would throw his own child under the bus if it meant he could keep his money and status.”

I chuckle at that as Caroline clears her throat. I scan the area and spot the bar, all the seats filled, the two bartenders mixing drinks nonstop. “I’ll go get you a drink.”

She nods. “Non-alcoholic, please.”

“Aye, aye, madame.” I give her a two-finger salute, and she playfully shoves me back.

I weave my way through the crowd, nodding and smiling at people whose faces barely register with me. As I reach the bar, I hold up two fingers and order a Shirley Temple and a mojito mocktail. This is not the kind of party where we can get drunk and let loose. If anything, it’s one we have to tolerate and drag ourselves through.

Glancing at Caroline over my shoulder, a flicker of heat spreads through my skull. A man in a suit is standing way too close to her, his posture too relaxed, his grin too familiar, his face too punchable.

Caroline laughs at something he says, and something tightens in my chest.

Oh, hell no.

A burning sensation flares within me, and my stomach hardens. My breath comes coarser and faster, and I push myself off the bar, heading back to her at a brisk pace.

I have never felt as angry as I do now. Spots appear in my vision, and a gnawing unease claws at me. What if someone else wants her for himself? What if she realizes all this risk isn’t worth it? That I’m not worth it?

This jealousy is foreign and unfamiliar to me. It knocks me off-balance, and I feel a primal territorial pull that I can’t let go of or ignore.

By the time I get to them, the guy’s phone is out, and he asks for Caroline’s number. In an instant, all her earlier friendliness is gone and replaced by cool indifference. That’s my girl.

“I’ll call you,” he says, inching ever closer to her.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Caroline crosses her arms over her chest and begins inspecting her nails as if those are the most interesting things in the world.

“Come on. My friends and I are going on a trip to the Bahamas later this year. I could bring you as my plus one.”

“No, thanks.”

“But you’d look so good in a bikini, and?—”

The moment he touches her elbow, I snap.

Jealousy morphs into fury—white-hot anger raging just beneath my skin. My hands curl into fists, and the only thing stopping me from turning his face into mush is Caroline’s wide-eyed warning.

Even as every instinct screams for me to clock him, I settle on a simple shove. Unfortunately, I underestimated my strength … or not. Who knows?

The guy staggers backward, arms flailing as he tries to regain his balance. A towering glass sculpture is just behind him, and his back hits it with a dull thud. The sculpture, which looks like a rising wave or a clamshell, wobbles for a few seconds before tipping.

The crash is so deafening that everyone else quiets and turns to the source of the sound. Shards of glass scatter on the floor, and those nearest give the three of us a wide berth. The room has fallen silent, amplifying the sharp click of heels behind me.

I don’t need to look to know who it is.

Mom. Of fucking course.

She offers a faint, brittle smile to the onlookers, but when her gaze snaps to me, it’s a different story. “What the hell is this, Callum?” Her voice isn’t loud, but it’s loaded with barely concealed fury.

Other people would have withered under the glare she casts on me, but I have years of experience, years of dealing with the demon inside her. “Nothing, Mother. He was being too touchy; it was making Caroline uncomfortable.” I shrug and give her the sweetest smile I can muster. “I was just trying to be a dutiful, attentive, and protective brother.”

Her sharp eyes cut to me, her nostrils flaring, but before she can open her mouth, her new husband wraps an arm around her shoulder and addresses the guests. “Sorry for that, everyone. Now, if you please, the drinks in the bar won’t finish themselves.”

That reminder eases the tension, and he half-drags, half-carries my mother to the people they were chatting with. Still with a smile, he glances at Caroline over his shoulder and says in a voice barely above a whisper, “If you’re going to make a scene, Caroline, how about you just leave?”

The look of genuine hurt in her eyes almost sends me into another fit of rage. Caroline must sense it because she tugs on my hand and pulls me outside, where I welcome the cool air, letting it wash over me and calm me down.

Caroline turns around to check before pointing an accusing finger at me. “What was that, Callum?”

“What was what?”

“That show of possessiveness. I didn’t think you were the jealous type.”

“I wasn’t … until I met you.”

Caroline runs her fingers through her hair in frustration, but all I can think about is wrapping it around my hand again and tugging it so I can suck on her neck. She groans and lifts her face to the sky as if she can find the answers there. “What does that even mean?”

I pace the parking lot, scrubbing a hand across my face. “I don’t know, Caroline!” My voice is sharper than I intended, my own frustration boiling over. “It was supposed to be a one-time thing with you, but now I can’t keep my eyes and hands off you.”

Her lips part in a surprise, and I know this is the last thing she expects to hear from me. Still, I don’t let that deter me from pouring my heart out. Hell, if you told me months ago that one day, I’d make a confession to my stepsister in the parking lot, I would’ve laughed out loud. Now, it isn’t so funny anymore.

“Callum…” Caroline wraps her arms around herself and rubs them. I don’t even have to think about it as I take off my suit jacket and drape it over her.

“Let me finish, Caroline. Please.” I rub the back of my neck and take a deep breath. “When you’re not around, I keep thinking of you. I couldn’t concentrate at school for the past two months because my mind always strayed to you. Yes, even when you were nothing more than a virtual stranger, you already had me wrapped around your finger. But now you’re here, and it’s driving me crazy because you’re off-limits. Forbidden fruit. Someone I shouldn’t even think about this way. This” —I point to her then me— “Whatever this is between us shouldn’t be happening, but God knows I’d die if I don’t touch you, kiss you, or hold you in my arms.”

Caroline gives me a sad smile. “They won’t approve, Callum. They’ll throw both of us out into the streets.”

“Yeah?” I snort. “My mother never wanted my existence in the first place. Besides, I’m not as useless as you think. I’m twenty years old, and I can find a job. I’m not sure if you know, but I’m good with cameras. I’ve been learning photography since I was in high school.”

“But that means throwing this good life away because of me.” The disbelief is clear on her face.

“What good life, Caroline? Is it the fact that my mother constantly breathes down my neck with everything I do? Or is it her regular reminder that, without me, she would have had a massive career in Hollywood? That night at the club? That was the first time in a year I went out without bodyguards trailing my car.”

“I-I didn’t know, I’m sorry.”

“The thought of someone else kissing you or touching you … It feels like I’m about to explode.” I stop pacing and stand before her, cupping her face and surprised to find her cheeks wet with tears. “Why are you crying, Caroline? Does it make you sad that I want you as mine?”

Caroline blinks quickly, but it’s no use. Her tears are falling freely now. “Give me time, Callum. I-I need to think about this.”

The words hit me like a gut punch. Here I am, ready to risk it all, but she’s not. I try to keep my voice steady and even, though I can feel my chest splintering. “Sure, take all the time you need.” It tastes bitter on my tongue, of course, but I force them out because if she has learned anything by now, it’s that I will give her what she wants … every single time.

She nods and darts her eyes away from me, her voice shaking. “T-thank you.”

I watch her walk away, every step twisting in my gut like a hot knife. I follow her with my gaze and watch as she raises an arm to hail a taxi. A yellow cab pulls up, and she glances at me one last time, her lips curving into another sad smile.

As the door closes behind her and the taxi speeds off, the ache in my chest spreads and hollows me out.

There goes the love of my life. The only woman who made me want to become a better man.