Perfect Notes

I turned to find a breathless Stefan running toward me. As he came closer, I could see beads of sweat on his forehead. I’d nowhere to go, surrounded by people with baggage trolleys and whining kids. In the middle of a busy terminal concourse, I had to face him. He halted in front of me, catching his breath. “Callie, wait…” he panted.

“Why are you here?”

“Dad told me you’d gone. Why didn’t you wait for me?” He raised his arms, almost as if to embrace me, but held back. “I said I’d bring you here. Don’t you trust me?”

“Trust you?” I put my hands on my hips and deepened my voice. “Don’t let me ride roughshod over you. Remember that? Then you go and tell me to go to college.”

“Tell you? Don’t be ridiculous. I suggested you read a book, that’s all.” He ran his fingers through his wavy locks. “Please, listen. I don’t know why you’re upset with me, but I’ve come to say I’m sorry—”

“Sorry! And after that? You did more than suggest a book. What’s it going to be this time? More interfering, making decisions for me? What about letting me live my life?” I said in a hushed voice, conscious of the crowds around me. “I can do what I want. I don’t need you… Or Dad. I’m my own person. You think you’re perfect for me, don’t you?”

“God damn it, Callie,” he said hoarsely, trying to keep his voice low.

About us, heads turned and feet shuffled on the floor.

Stefan crept closer, bending down to speak. “No, I’m not perfect. I’m not the perfect lover or the best Dominant. I fuck things up. I’m twenty-seven years old and I’m frittering away my trust fund, I’ve done bugger all composing and avoided commitment like it’s a disease. Even the conducting job is short-term.” He screwed up his eyes and clutched his hands together as if in prayer. “I am not wrong about us. You’ve inspired something within me. I’ve come alive.”

“What about me?” I reiterated through gritted teeth, glancing about at our embarrassed audience.

His eyes shone brightly under the lights. “You’re everything to me and I don’t want to change you. I’m sorry I gave you that impression. I wanted to inspire you—like you do me. Your choices are yours to make, as are mine. It’s me who needs to wake up and change. I… I don’t think I can do it without you.”

I noted his fists clenching and unclenching. He tipped his head to one side, closed his eyes and pressed his lips together as if biting back a cry of pain.

His almost pitiful expression—both unnerving and appealing—halted my anguish. It made him appear vulnerable, quite unlike the confident man who had commanded me to be his, ravished me then held me in his embrace while I wept tears of release. I’d put up a barrier and he’d smashed past it and grabbed at my heart.

I reached forward, took a hand, pried apart his tense fingers and drew his palm to my lips. I melted into his warm hand, letting him stroke my tear-stained cheeks. I didn’t know where they’d come from, but they slipped out of my eyes unexpectedly.

“Why do you keep running away from me?” he asked. “I’m reaching out to you in ways I’ve never done with anyone else. I’m trying very hard to be the man you want me to be.” He massaged my tense temple with his thumb.

“I know… I overreact…” I murmured.

“I need you,” he choked.

I leaned into him. “Me too. Need you, I mean.”

We must have made quite a sight, because a couple nearby applauded as we merged into an embrace. He smothered my mouth with his and kissed my lips hard. I breathed into him, letting go of the tension in my shoulders. The soft bristles of his goatee brushed against my chin. A familiar comforting sensation I’d come to enjoy. I rose on my tiptoes, draped my arms around his shoulders and spread the digits of one hand through his dark locks, until they swathed my quivering fingers. I drew his head lower, darted my tongue into his mouth and gorged on his moist taste. I couldn’t stop my legs from wobbling and he held me tightly to his chest, keeping me upright until I had recovered my poise.

I brushed away my tears with the back of my hand. “Well, that’s some send-off kiss.”

He managed to smile at my weak joke. “I’ll catch up with you in England, probably the day after tomorrow?”

“Sure.” Two days without Stefan—a lifetime!

“I have to go. Dad wasn’t exactly welcoming.” He grinned. “Got my work cut out for me.”

“He told me you’re a good son.”

Stefan blushed, a rare display of embarrassment. “He’s scared, deep down. I just hope he’ll settle and get strong again.”

“I’m sure he will. He’s stubborn like his son.” I rested my head against his shoulder, swaying in his arms, and his heartbeat pounded in my ear.

“Please, think about moving in with me. Not to save money or anything mercenary. Do it to be with me, nothing else.”

“I’ll think about it.” The harbinger of doom—my overthinking conscience—told me too soon, and not to be impetuous. If he needed me that much, he could wait until I’d straightened out the knot of confused thoughts raging inside me. I couldn’t leave Talia without a flatmate at short notice. How would she pay the combined rent?

I had a decision to make, and it was entirely mine.

Chapter Twenty-Two