Page 87 of Stormswept Colorado

Cal pulled off his ball cap and combed his fingers through his hair. Pushed the hat back into place. “I’ll just assume this is ahypotheticalwoman you need advice about. Okay? Tell me what’s going on. The love doctor is in.”

I suppressed an eye roll. But I’d already started this, so I might as well see what he thought. “So, this woman… We spent time together. We clicked. On many levels.”

A crooked grin started to slide up Callum’s face.

“No,” I barked. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

He pressed his lips into a flat line. “Got it. Go on.”

I’d spent some late nights torturing myself by watching her videos, scrolling her social media. Not exactly healthy. And also unsatisfying.

Her talent was mind-blowing, yet the version of herself that she revealed in the media wasn’t the woman I’d held in my arms at the Last Refuge Inn. The woman who’d opened up to me, laughed with me.

Who’d whimpered and cried out when I made her come.

That was who I wanted. The truth of her.

I’d replayed the moments we’d shared in my head like my favorite movie, even as I’d refused to confirm or deny any of the gossip. Those memories were private. Something that belonged just to the two of us. If any man had dared to make a snide comment about Ayla, he would’ve quickly found my fist in his face. Even Callum.

Deep down, Ayla still felt like mine.

I didn’t know how to stop feeling that.

“We had to say goodbye. We don’t even live in the same state, and we have almost nothing in common beyond some very intense chemistry. But I still can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Sounds rough.”

“It’s becoming a problem.” I leaned forward on my elbows, rubbing my eyes. “My temper is shorter than usual.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

I glared. He thought he was cute. “I can’tsleep, Cal. It’s bad.”

He nodded. “Okay. Have you reached out to her?”

“Yes. I’ve texted to check in on her.”

“Have you heard back?”

“A few times.”

I’d been texting her every few days to check in, and she wrote back often enough to suggest the communication wasn’t unwanted. But beyond that, Ayla had gone quiet on me. No updates yet on the stalker situation.

“Does she write back to every message?”

“Not exactly.”

“What does that mean? Notexactly?”

I took out my phone, glancing over the messages I’d sent. “She doesn’t always reply, but she always likes my messages.”

“Wait.” Callum grimaced. “With a thumbs up?”

“With a heart.”

He nodded, relieved. “A heart is promising. We can work with that.”

“Yeah? I have no idea what to think.”

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