Page 21 of Playboy Husband

MAISIE

The first thing I noticed when I walked into the room was that there were two beds. Relief pooled in my chest. I hadn’t been sure what to expect when we got here, but two beds meant space, distance, and boundaries I could cling to.

All the intense flirting and eye contact down in the lounge had been exhilarating, but sharing a bed might’ve meant things could get complicated.

If all went according to plan, we would be married by the end of the week.

I knew that. I just wasn’t sure if I was ready for any more potential complications just yet.

It felt like there were more than enough of those already.

That sense of relief only lasted until about five seconds after Callum had shut the door behind us. His voice cut through the silence, rough and low, his eyes hidden in shadow since there was only one light on in the room and it was a single lamp in the opposite corner.

“Why did you leave that morning? After… us. Why didn’t you ever speak to me again?”

The question hit me like a slap to the face. My breath caught, my hands hovering next to my ear like I’d forgotten how to use them. Which I kind of had. Why is he asking me this?

My throat felt tight, my words refusing to come.

I was so confused right then that I could barely think, let alone talk.

All this time, I thought we’d been on the same page, but that question seemed to imply that I’d been wrong.

“I left because I was under the impression it was a one-night stand, Callum.”

The explanation came out of me slowly, grating against my throat even though it was the truth.

He pushed away from the door, taking only a single step forward, but it was enough that the glow of the lamp reached him now.

His eyes were locked on mine, unblinking as he stared at me like this mattered to him.

“It was,” he said curtly. “That doesn’t really answer the question, though.”

The way he was looking at me was so steady and so intense that it stole every scrap of air from my lungs.

My knees wobbled like he could knock me off my feet with the sheer force of his gaze.

I’d been so, so sure that he wouldn’t have wanted me there when he’d woken up that I’d never even questioned my decision to make like a ninja and disappear.

Now, I wasn’t sure if I’d been right about how little that night had meant to him.

I’d made a lot of decisions based on that assumption, and I couldn’t even begin to process the magnitude of the implications if I’d been wrong. Finally, I lifted my chin, inhaled a deep breath, and managed to articulate the basics.

“I don’t understand why you’re asking me this,” I said, my words sharp and defensive, my heart thundering in my chest. “You were the king of campus, Callum. You could’ve had anyone you wanted, and that night, you wanted me, but I knew that was as far as it would go.

I didn’t expect anything more, so I woke up, got dressed, and left. ”

His brow furrowed, the weight of his stare pinning me in place. “Why would you think that?”

A humorless laugh slipped out of me. “Why would I think what, that nothing more would come of it?”

He nodded but remained silent, those eyes still boring into mine. My entire being was flooded with confusion, my mind spinning, but if he needed me to spell it out for him, I would.

“You had a reputation, Callum,” I said slowly. “Everyone knew about it and so did I. I went into that night knowing it would be a one-time thing, so why would I have hung around the next morning? To force you to awkwardly shoo me away?”

His jaw tightened, something between hurt and frustration creeping across his features. “Is that all you think I am? A reputation?”

“That’s not what I sai—”

He cut me off with a firm shake of his head and stepped closer, forcing me back a fraction. “Yeah, I was a dumb, horny college kid. I won’t deny it, but you were you, Maisie.”

I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering in my throat. “What does that even mean? Sure, I was me and you were you. How does that change anything?”

“I had a crush on you for years,” he said, his tone caught between exasperation, frustration, and weirdly, a definite hint of desperation. “Years.”

My breath stuttered, my mind scrambling to make sense of what he was saying, but everything I thought I’d known about that night suddenly tilted, like the floor had been pulled out from under me.

He closed in another step, moving slowly but deliberately.

The backs of my knees brushed the edge of the nearest bed, but he wasn’t done yet.

“You were just as unattainable as me,” he murmured. “You just didn’t realize it. That night, I thought you’d finally noticed me as more than just a jock who let his hormones rule his life.”

My mouth opened, but for a long minute, no words came out.

Eyelashes fluttering as if I was a robot with a motor that had glitched, all I could do at first was keep staring at him.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing at all, but more than that, there were just too many pieces of the puzzle that didn’t fit.

Finally, I realized starting with those would be easier. “I’m not saying that’s not true, but if it is, how could you not even have recognized me back in that bar? Or on the sidewalk after I specifically told you that we went to college together? It took you an entire day to remember me, Callum.”

“If I could go back to that night,” he said quietly, “I’d change everything. I knew you looked familiar, but it had been so long since I’d seen you that I didn’t connect the dots until it was too late. I’m sorry for that. For all of it.”

All the while, he’d still been closing in and he was too close now, his presence wrapping around me until it was impossible to think. My chest rose and fell in uneven bursts. “We can’t change any of it, though. All we can do is focus on the future.”

Those intent blue eyes swept across mine. “So that’s really why you left that morning? You thought I was just a player who wouldn’t want you around when I woke up?”

“Yes,” I whispered, but deep inside, doubt had started blooming. I couldn’t look away from him even if I wanted to, afraid that something in my eyes would betray how deeply shaken I was by all these revelations. “Did you really want me to stay?”

“Yes,” he replied without hesitating. “You were all I wanted for a long time, Maisie.”

I felt my brow pucker, my heart thudding against my ribs. “You had a really strange way of showing it.”

“No one ever said college guys aren’t stupid,” he murmured, then leaned in closer, the masculine scent of him faint, but I caught definite hints of leather, spice, and whiskey.

Those eyes searched mine as he spoke again, his voice softer, but so much more dangerous this time.

“Is marrying me actually what you want?”

The question burned through me like fire, leaving me raw and shaky, because I wasn’t sure I could lie to myself about the answer anymore. My throat went bone dry, my thoughts a tangled mess I couldn’t begin to unravel.

I stared at him, entirely uncertain about myself for the first time in a long time.

The mattress pressed into the backs of my legs, which meant I couldn’t run, but I let some more of my weight rest against it, using the pressure to ground myself.

I still didn’t have an answer for him, but at least I could sort of breathe again.

“Is this even a good idea?” As if he’d felt the war inside me, Callum’s voice had softened again. His brow furrowed, like he wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words. “You and me—”

He cut himself off, his jaw flexing like the rest of the words had gotten stuck in his throat. I realized then that Callum Westwood was at a loss for words. It wasn’t something I ever thought I’d experience, but he genuinely seemed uncertain about how to say what he wanted to say.

If he was having this much trouble formulating his words, it had to mean that this wasn’t as easy or as effortless for him as he’d been pretending.

In that moment, I realized it was entirely possible that he was just as lost with all this as I was.

As that thought burrowed into my brain, something in me snapped.

I didn’t want to think anymore. I didn’t want to weigh the pros and cons.

I didn’t want to bury myself in all the reasons why this was dangerous or even acknowledge that it really was doomed from the start.

All I could focus on was the heat of his gaze, the ache twisting low in my stomach, and the fact that he was standing close enough that I could feel his breath ghosting across my lips.

Before I could second-guess myself, I surged forward and kissed him. It wasn’t sweet or careful. It was rough and wild, like striking a match in a room filled with gasoline, the kind of kiss I’d been longing for but wasn’t sure I would ever have again.

His surprised grunt vibrated against my mouth, but then his hands were on me, one at my waist, and the other sliding up my back. He was kissing me back just as fiercely, like we’d both been starving for this and only now realized it.

My fingers clutched the front of his shirt and I dragged him closer to me, as if I could anchor myself in the sheer intensity of him. Every thought and every carefully built wall I’d hidden behind for years crumbled in an instant.

His tongue stroked my own with a fervor that lit a fire in my soul, my body responding to him like he owned it. Within seconds, I’d completely forgotten all the reasons why this was a bad idea. I was burning for him, his chest hard and solid against my own, and his hips angling into me.

I felt my cheeks heat and my knees buckle, and when we finally broke apart, I was gasping for air. My heart wasn’t just racing. It was in a freefall, but as I looked up into his eyes, I realized that he was still waiting for an answer—and I still didn’t have one to give.