He was about to tell her she could tell him anything, that he’d be there for her, that it was early, but he already knew that- that she meant something to him. That he felt something he’d never felt before in his entire damn life. He opened his mouth to tell her, but then she spoke, shocking him into silence.
“I- I was engaged once…”
CHAPTER 13
Callie
“So, you were engaged, but you never got married.”
Callie froze. Is this what people meant when they talked about appropriate after sex talk? It hardly seemed like bringing another man between them when their sweat was still cooling, his name barely off her lips, their breathing still irregular, her body still trembling, was a good idea.
Matt turned to face her. Callie moved over an inch in the opposite direction. She cursed her tipsy drunk self and the remarks she made. Why him? Why does it seem like I can tell him anything?
“Uh- yeah. Something like that.”
Matt frowned. Even in the darkness, Callie could see the little lines bracketing his eyes and mouth. “I want to know where you came from. You turned up out of nowhere. I know nothing about you.” He reached out and caressed a silken strand that tumbled across her cheek and trailed down her neck. He tucked it safely back behind her ear and the gesture was so tender and kind, she almost believed she could trust him.
Don’t. It’s a false sense of security. He’s my boss. And I’m in bed with him. It’s bad enough already.
“Please. I promise, your secrets are safe with me.”
“My secrets aren’t safe with anyone. I’ve learned that in the past.”
“Yeah, well, whoever they were, I’d like to find them and give them a good pounding. Pound out whatever shit they said to you to make you feel like you had to live alone for over a year.”
“I didn’t feel that way, I chose to live alone. I was done with it. I was done with all of it. I’m twenty-four, but I feel like I’ve lived a thousand years. Do you ever get that feeling?”
Matt stared at her blankly. How could he? For him, life is endless parties and women and money. Whatever he wants, he gets.
“I know what you’re thinking.” Matt ran his thumb across her lips, and she resisted the urge to lick it, or even worse, suck that digit deep inside of her mouth. She knew it would be easy, distract him with sex, tell him nothing. Her lips parted, but he pulled his thumb away. “You think that I’m some spoiled rich kid who had everything in life handed to me. You think that I’ve never truly worked a day in my life or felt anything at all.”
“Something like that.”
They stared at each other for a second and then Matt laughed. She couldn’t help it, she laughed too. Soon they were both laughing so hard they were shaking, and she had to reach up and brush away a tear.
“Lord, it might be true. Even if it is, one thing I’ve never done is rat on someone. I’ve never told a secret that was given to me in trust.”
“It’s not a secret. Other people know about it, although they pretend that they don’t.” She clamped her mouth shut. She’d already said way too much. She couldn’t seem to stop though. She sensed, looming in the future, was the release of a burden she’d carried around with her for over a decade. A burden of pain and loss and hurt. “Not Ben though. I told him, the night before our wedding. I thought that I had to. That I owed it to him. That he needed to know since he was going to be my husband.”
“And the bastard left you? You trusted him and he just… left you?” Matt’s incredulity almost made her feel a little better about it all. “I’d like to find him too. Give him a few thumps upside the head and ask him what the hell he was thinking.”
“Not everything is solved by batting someone upside the head or punching someone or fighting. Of course, all guys think so.”
“Better to fight it out than keep it in and let it rot you on the inside.”
Rot me on the inside. That’s exactly what this is doing. Why not? Why not tell him? Callie knew she’d never see him again. She’d given in, given herself one guilty pleasure, the one thing she’d wanted more than anything. She’d given herself a night with Matt. She promised herself too, that if it happened, she’d be gone after. She’d leave before he woke up and she’d disappear. She wouldn’t go back to work. She would find another job. So why not tell him? Just unload it. She was tired of carrying that grief around with her. More than tired. Exhausted.