She smiled at me. “Yes, Cal. You’re here now. I’m feeling much better, thank you.”
I frowned. Something in her words didn’t sit well with me. Maybe when she said, You’re here now.
“I miss you,” she murmured.
I felt uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure if I should tell her to stop talking to me that way. If some other guy was talking to Red like this, I would go ballistic.
“I miss my best friend,” she clarified.
I wasn’t even aware how hard I was gripping the wheel until I relaxed my hands. Yeah, she thought of me as her best friend—though I wasn’t sure how well she understood the new dynamic in our relationship. She had always been possessive of me.
Girls came and went in my life, but Beatrice-Rose was a constant. She had learned to depend on that. In a way, that was my fault. I had let her depend on me. It became a habit for her. And for me.
But it was different now. I had not anticipated Red coming into my life. She’d blindsided me, and now all I wanted was her.
I could say that Beatrice-Rose was the first girl who fascinated me. As kids, we were forced to spend time together in the playroom. Sleeping Beauty was her favorite movie. I thought it was because she was blond and because of the similarities in their names—Briar Rose to her Beatrice-Rose.
I could not count how many times I had watched that damn movie with her. I’d bet my left nut I could still recite the lines, even in my sleep. Not that I would tell anybody, obviously.
It didn’t escape my young mind’s notice that Sleeping Beauty was vulnerable, fragile. The type of girl who could draw out the protective instinct with just the way she looked, the way sh
e spoke. Like a meek lamb, a little kitten. And after you had slain her dragon, she would gaze at you and make you feel like a hero.
In a lot of ways, Beatrice-Rose reminded me of Sleeping Beauty. She always came to me for protection, for safety, which made me feel like a hero. It made me feel strong. It might have been caveman thinking, but sometimes it’s really good to feel like a hero.
Beatrice-Rose was very, very good for my ego.
Reflecting on it, I realized those were the types of girls I always went for. Girls who needed saving, who needed protection, who made me feel needed. This desire to feel needed might have come from my childhood when no one needed or wanted me, but that didn’t really matter in the end, did it? Because now I felt ashamed, embarrassed, stripped. It seemed so shallow to date those girls just because they fed my ego.
Maybe that was how Red had captured my attention. She was different from all the girls I knew. She seemed fearless and strong, then seemed so helpless, so vulnerable when I found her at the parking lot. I’d wanted to save her. But she’d proved me wrong.
Because in the end, she was the one who saved me.
Red made me bare my soul, made me aware of what was lacking in my life and what I wanted to be. She made me want to do more, be more. Be a better person.
Yellow—that damn nickname. When I saw Red’s face after Beatrice-Rose told her that, my first thought was shit. She might think that calling her Red wasn’t anything special. When she was the most special person in my life.
It was an old habit, naming people after colors that reminded me of them. What Red didn’t know was that I’d stopped doing that when I turned eight. She’d just brought it out of me that night when I met her.
That night.
She’d danced on that floor like she owned it, with her killer red dress, red lips, and sheer presence. I had to stop and stare. It felt like a siren’s call. I was unable to look away for fear I would miss something important. That I would lose a chance I could never get back again.
It wasn’t just lust. It was a pull I couldn’t explain.
And when she approached me, kicked my ass, and rejected me…I knew. She was red. My Red. She was fire, passion, strength…
Love.
I love her.
I hadn’t told her yet, because I was waiting for the right moment. I knew she loved me. I just didn’t know if she was ready to admit it to herself yet.
“…so there you go. Right, Cal?”
I blinked. What? I’d missed everything Beatrice-Rose had just said. I grunted, letting her interpret that for herself. I changed the subject quickly so she wouldn’t notice I hadn’t been listening for the last ten minutes.
“I thought you got over your panic attacks,” I said. “What happened in my apartment?”