Mistakes I've Made (Broken Love Duet 1)

“C’mon, Bluebird,” I mumble, rubbing my hand over my face. “You know better than that shit.” I grab her hand and move her hand down to cup my cock so that she can feel how hard I am. “I want you. I never want you to question that.”

“Then, what’s going on?” she says, staring down at me, still hovering over my body.

I know that I owe her an explanation. The problem is, I’m not sure I have one.

I force myself to sit up, and Callie does, too. She puts some space between us, and maybe that’s smart, but it’s not what I want. I reach out and take her hand in mine. Honestly, staring at our joined hands is easier than trying to look in her eyes and talk, so that’s what I do. I brush my thumb against hers, letting the movement and the feel of her skin soothe me.

“I want to explain things to you, Callie. I truly do,” I murmur.

“Then, do it. You’ve got to know that whatever it is, Reed, I’m here for you.”

“The thing is, Callie, that talking about it will hurt you, and that’s the last thing I want to do,” I mutter, pushing my hand in my hair, pushing it out of my face.

I need to get it cut but haven’t got around to it. Other than work and Callie, I haven’t bothered doing much of anything. Jake’s been bitching because I haven’t been around him either. We see each other at work, but he’s miserable and I’m not much better. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me. Callie and I are seeing each other, she’s everything I’ve ever wanted. I’m putting money back weekly, and soon I’ll have enough to put money down on a place or pay rent somewhere for months in advance. Things are more in control than they have been in months and Callie wants me—she wants us. I should be the happiest man alive.

I don’t fucking know what’s going on in my own head. I don’t know how I’m supposed to make Callie understand if I don’t understand myself.

“Hurt me how?”

“Damn it, Callie,” I grumble, and I find myself sliding out of the bed, needing to walk, to breathe, to be doing something—anything.

“Reed…” she whispers and the pain in that one word kills me, stopping me in my tracks. I turn to look at her and I hate that I’ve caused the pain I see in her eyes. “Is there someone else? Do you, I mean, Chasity…”

“Fuck no,” I growl, and I go back to her, dropping to my knees and leaning so my body is against her legs, making us more or less on eye level. “Don’t even mention her name. This, whatever it is, is not about her, Callie.”

“Then what is it, Reed?” she asks, holding the side of my face. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

I take a deep breath, letting it shudder out of my body.

“I don’t remember anything about that night, Callie. There are just these weird splotches of memory and all of them—at least in my head are pictures of you—not her.”

“I…I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either. I mean, we had a bottle of tequila and maybe I drank too much, but I don’t drink a lot—hardly ever and I don’t remember drinking that much that night, but I guess I must have.”

“I don’t understand how what you did with her relates to us, Reed. I’ve had sex before and it was a huge mistake that never should have happened. It mostly did because I was hurting and yeah, sure there was alcohol, but I knew what I was doing. That doesn’t define me, though. It doesn’t make me want to stop finding my way with you. I love you. I want to be with you because I know in my heart, that no matter how horrible my other experience was, it would be a million times different with you because I love you.”

“I love you, Callie. I’m making a mess of this aren’t I?”

“Maybe just a tad,” she laughs, but I can tell she’s not serious.

“I think because I’ve seen what a fucked-up mess my father has made of his life and mine, Mom’s and Mitch’s as a result….”

“Reed?” she prompts.

“I just think I’m having a hard time forgiving myself for letting myself get in that situation. It sounds stupid, but I wanted my first time to be the opposite of what it was. I wanted it to be with someone I cared about. I wanted it to be with you and I robbed myself of that.”

“Reed,” she breathes.

“God, I sound like such a girl right now,” I mutter, and I can feel heat feel my face.

“I don’t think you do. Of course, I’m a girl, so who knows—”

“Gee thanks,” I grumble, making her laugh.