Page 33 of Desperate Needs

I had a lot of people depending on me. A lot of mouths that needed feeding.

Once we knocked out the top player, we’d be number one. We’d secure the right investors. Then I could pay back those hefty loans with their bullshit interest rates.

And last, but not least, the Callahan name would be restored.

I just had to walk away from one little redhead.

But the thing was.

I didn’t think I wanted to.

Shit.

Chapter 15-Clementine

I woke up to an empty apartment and frowned.

The silence felt different this morning, heavier somehow.

But why?

I stretched, blinking at the familiar surroundings. But I paused as I made to stand up at the decidedly unfamiliar soreness between my legs.

Duh me.

It was obvious what I was feeling. It was him. Connor. Or rather, his absence that struck me as wrong in the cold light of this December morning.

Stupid, Clem. Really, stupid.

Somehow, during our interlude I had briefly allowed myself to hope for more.

But what did I really expect? That Connor Callahan would magically have feelings for me after one night in my bed? That he would have stayed the night. Asked for more?

Ugh.

I sounded like one of my Aunt Sofia’s novels. Don’t get me wrong, I loved reading them. In fact, I used to sneak them out of my mom’s office when I was far too young for that kind of thing.

But I just couldn’t help myself.

Her stories were like nothing I ever read. They were fun and romantic. Full of bold women and headstrong men. And the endings—God, the endings—they were just so perfect.

But that was fiction, and this was reality.

Connor was not to blame. He was not the bad guy here. So, I couldn’t blame him for taking what I freely offered and hightailing it out of here quick as he could.

I mean, we made no plans to speak or see each other again.

It had all been so simple, so clear from the start. No promises, no strings—one night. Just the way it was meant to be.

It was just as well. Really, I had no expectations whatsoever.

That was the sensible thing. The smart thing.

But even as I told myself that, I couldn’t help the slight tug of disappointment.

It wasn’t a crushing weight, just a quiet reminder that maybe, deep down, I had wanted something more.

Something to linger.

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