Page 55 of My Best Years

“Good,” I finally mutter, my voice a breathy whisper. “He doesn't deserve to hold that kind of power over you.”

“He doesn't,” Callum replies without hesitation. “Not anymore.”

Silence fills the small space between us as I trace the rim of my glass with a finger. I divert my gaze, looking down at the salt coating my fingertip. After Callum’s confession, it’s difficult to maintain eye contact with him.

I feel guilt-ridden for all of the hurtful words I spewed at him.

“Callum…” I lift my eyes. “I won’t lie to you and say that I’m not still hurt by how you left. But I need you to know that I don’t hold it against you. What you went through…” I shake my head. “I can’t imagine. Honestly, I probably would have handled it the same way. I would have done anything to keep you safe.”

I hold his ocean eyes, hoping he can hear the sincerity in my tone.

“And I’m sorry,” I add weakly, “for the horrible things I said to you. I’m sorry for not listening to you sooner. I was just so angry–”

“Don’t apologize to me,” he interjects. “You had every right to be furious with me. Youstilldo. Anyone in their right mind would have reacted the same way.”

Well…I can’t argue with him there.

I finally wrap my fingers around my drink and take a big gulp of my now watered-down margarita.

The muscles in Callum’s arms tense before he asks me a question that makes my breath hitch.

“Birdie, are you seeing anyone right now?”

His eyes flick between mine, filled with unease as he waits for my response.

“No,” I breathe. “Are you?”

“No.”

I nod before taking another sip, unsure if it’s the tequila or his intense gaze causing my skin to tingle.

“I want to see you again,” he says in a husky tone that I feel deep in my core.

My leg bounces up with nervous jitters as I chew on my bottom lip. If my cheeks weren't red before, they’re definitely the color of a tomato now.

I don’t have to think about my response because the words fall from my lips before I can process what I’m saying.

Gotta love a good old-fashioned word vomit.

“I’d like that too,” I murmur softly.

His pillowy lips curve up in a sexy smile that causes my heart to skip.

“Give me your phone.”

I furrow my brows as he holds out a palm, waiting for me to hand him my phone.

“I’m going to put my number in it,” he clarifies, sensing my discomfort. “And when you feel ready, text me, and we’ll make plans. I promised not to follow you around like a stalker anymore,” he chuckles. “But just know that I want to see you again, Birdie. I want it to be on your terms this time. When you’re ready.”

I’m not sure if it’s the tequila coursing through my veins, but I feel like I’ve just been put through the roller coaster of a lifetime. A roller coaster called Whiplash.

Because how in the hell did I go from wanting to completely cut Callum out of my life to considering seeing him again in one evening?

Tonight was a lot to take in, so I’m thankful that Callum is willing to be patient and give me time.

I’m definitely going to need it.

“Okay,” I nod. “I appreciatethat.”

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