Page 119 of Endgame

Before I turn around and flee like a goddamn sissy, I knock loudly, surely loud enough to wake her neighbors. But I can’t find it in me to care. Why do something if you’re only going to do it halfway, right?

Seconds pass before the swinging of her door opening draws me in. Dakota is disheveled in every sense of the word. Her long brown hair is thrown into a messy bun, her face is void of any makeup, translucent blue light glasses on her face, and she’s in nothing but an oversized band tee with what looks to be no shorts.

She’s a fucking queen, looking like a vision, pussy easily accessible a whopping two feet away from me, making me forget why the hell I’m even here. It’s a good thing for me; I stand no chance of getting even close to that part of her.

“What is it? Is everything okay?

Shit. Focus.

Running my hand through my hair, I shake my head solemnly and start my unavoidable plea. “I agreed to give you space, but I can’t do that.”

I’m being unreasonable about the one thing she asked ofme, but she will have to punish me for it later, and I’ll gladly oblige. I’m not leaving here until I’ve groveled to her liking, the hardness between us is severed, and her pussy is full of my cock.

In that order.

Dakota lets go of the door to run a hand down her face, causing me to reach out to stop it from closing. She looks exhausted. I want to hold her and never let her go. If I wasn’t such an idiot, I could be doing that right now.

Time to eat my words and try and ease her mind a little.

“Dakota, I’m so sorry. I know my apology excuses nothing, but I wasn’t thinking. All I pictured was you leaving me, and it felt too familiar for me to think of anything but the worst. You didn’t deserve that.”

I can tell she understands. She’s always been in my corner, maybe notfullycomprehending what I went through as a child, but her heart has always accepted my pain. I guess it helps we both have some trauma we’ve survived.

She’s looking at me hesitantly. I’m sure she’s contemplating what to say. I need to get this out. “I never should have silenced you. You’ll never know how sorry I am for that. I’m sorry for eavesdropping. I assumed the worst before hearing you out, and that wasn’t fair to you. Thinking back, the look on my mom’s face should have told me how wrong I was. I should have given you the chance to continue.”

Her warm eyes find mine. “Cal…it’s...thank you. I’ll always forgive you. I understand. You just really hurt me. There was never a question in my mind. I declined the offer right then and there. No job is worth losing you.”

Fuck. She’s perfect.

This could have gone differently, but my girl cared enough to forgive me.

I’ve still got one more thing to address.

“I shouldn’t have left. That was fucked up on my end, and I can’t imagine how that made you feel. It’s no secret I have abandonment issues. My mom chose drugs over me, so the idea of someone I care about leaving me often causes quick reactions. You have my word that it will never happen again. I was spiraling, and I know that’s no excuse, but it’s all I’ve got to explain my cowardice. Just know I will always pick you first. That has never been a question.”

“I can handle a lot, Callaway. We’ve both been through a lot, but that's a hard no for me. You can yell, get frustrated, or cry, but not that. I can’t handle you running and leaving me again.”

I’m nodding as quickly as I can because I understand. She doesn’t even need to explain further. It will never happen again.

I’m really fucking grateful she’s showing me grace.

The weight of her forgiveness feels transformative.

“I knew I made the right choice.”

She looks at me in question. I left my statement open-ended on purpose. I’m ready to tell her.

“Right choice on what?”

“The woman I want to spend forever with.”

A gasp of air leaves her lips. “Callaway.” Her hand covers her mouth as she chokes back a rush of tears. Over my dead body am I going to stand here and let her cry without my arms around her. Someone will have to rip her from my hold to keep me away.

My body all but flees to her, wrapping her in my warmth and hoping she feels the intensity of my devotion.

I whisper gently in her ear while brushing the soft strands of her hair, “Have you caught up yet, angel? Are you ready to let me love you?”

My shirt is soaked in her beautiful tears, and it’s the bestfeeling in the world. Seeing her feelings and allowing herself to expose her heart to me in the rawest way is the most attractive thing about her.

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