Page 88 of My Song for You
I jumped into the water, splashing both her legs and mine. She laughed harder. If anyone drove by and saw us, they would’ve thought we were completely insane. And maybe I was insane. I certainly had been crazy for taking forever to see what was in front of me.
I reached for her and, against my better instincts, pulled her against me. She stopped laughing and vulnerability instantly filled her eyes. I wasn’t thinking—one second I was staring at those gorgeous blue eyes, and the next I was kissing her.
The kiss started out tender but quickly escalated and became more heated. Callie’s breasts pushed against my chest and I had the sudden urge to find a quiet place and make love to her in the rain. To let the water wash away the pain and heartbreak she had dealt with for so long.
A voice deep inside me, where logic ruled over emotion, reminded me this was wrong. Callie wasn’t in any state for me to make love to her. I needed to get her home to bed. I needed to temporarily give her space, to let her sober up.
“Sing to me,” she said.
“Can we start walking again?”
She considered it for a second and nodded.
“Twinkle, twinkle little star,” I began as we walked.
She giggled. “No, I want you to sing one of the band’s songs like you did the other night.”
“Any particular song?”
She picked “This Last Time,” a song I’d written after my breakup with Alexis. It was about love and betrayal. Not exactly the song I wanted to sing to the woman I loved. I just hoped she hadn’t picked it because it reminded her of everything our relationship had been about in the beginning.
I finished the song and she smiled. She didn’t say anything else the rest of the way. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
My phone pinged. Another message from Nolan.Remar called. Meeting with band tomorrow at 10 am. On a Saturday?
Ronald Remar was the president of the label. I could count the number of times on one hand that the band had met with him. We weren’t a big enough act yet to warrant his attention, so what the hell did he want to talk to us about?
We entered the apartment, Callie doing her best to be quiet. Sharon didn’t say anything beyond wishing us goodnight before leaving. If she was disappointed in Callie for getting drunk, she didn’t show it.
Callie was wet and muddy, but she wasn’t in any condition to shower alone, and I wasn’t about to go there with her while she was drunk.
I escorted her to her bedroom. She sat down hard on the bed, almost slipping off the edge. Water dripped from her hair and clothes onto the bedding.
“I’ll be right back.” I returned with a glass of water and a couple of aspirins, both of which she swallowed without complaint. I also returned with a towel and wet washcloth.
I gently cleaned the mud from her body and dried her skin. Usually she slept naked with me, but after what her ex had insinuated about our relationship, I searched her room for clothing that resembled pajamas. I found a pair of cotton shorts and matching T-shirt, both covered with hearts and bunnies. I didn’t want to leave her in her wet dress, but I also didn’t want Logan to wander in tomorrow morning and find her naked.
This wasn’t the first time I had stripped Callie of her clothes, but she had been fully coherent those other times. This time it felt awkward, like I was violating her privacy. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she was fully awake, but she could barely keep her eyes open.
It didn’t help that I missed caressing her soft skin, exploring her body, tasting her. I couldn’t get enough of Callie, but none of that mattered just then. The only thing that was important was to get her changed and let her sleep off the booze.
After removing her dress and bra—my gaze on her shoulder so as to avoid looking at her breasts—I helped her with the T-shirt. I laid her on the bed and eased her cotton shorts up her legs. I was used to taking clothes off women, which was a lot easier than putting them on.
Callie murmured in her sleep, but I couldn’t make out what she said. I wasn’t ready to leave yet, so I watched her for a minute or two. Part of me longed to crawl under the covers and hold her to warm her up. To let her know that I loved her and that I meant everything I had said when I told her I wanted to marry her. But not because of Logan. I wanted to be with her and only her.
I leaned down and kissed her temple. She murmured again, the words still unintelligible. Even in her inebriated state, Callie looked at peace.
I kissed her again. “I love you,” I whispered against her temple. “I think I’ve been in love with you for quite some time now, but I was too much of an idiot to realize it until recently.”
She made a soft sound and shifted in her sleep.
When I returned a minute later with a bowl from the kitchen in case she was sick during the night, she hadn’t moved. I placed it on the floor near her bed, so she couldn’t miss it if she woke up. I set a glass of ice water next to the bottle of aspirin on her bedside table and sat in the armchair.
I spent more than an hour in her room brainstorming ways to show her how much she meant to me. Some were clichés. Others were outlandish. But when I finally snuck out of the apartment sometime after midnight, there was no question about what I had to do to prove to her that she was mine.
Now I had to hope the guys in the band would go for it.
Chapter 38
