Page 112 of Impossible Love

“It is. I mean, it was.”

Of course, that’s not even a fraction of what I want. I want Cal. I want his muscular body on top of me. I want his cock buried deep inside me while he whispers my name, tells me how much he needs me, wants me, can’t get enough of me.

Cal was my sexual equal, a true partner. I feel dead without that sensual connection we had. I am flat and lifeless.

I feel lost without that smile, those violet eyes, the deep rumble of his laugh.

“You love him, don’t you? Like, the real deal kind of love.”

“Despite everything, yes. Even though it’s impossible, yes. I’m the biggest idiot that ever lived, but yes. I love Cal MacLaine, and it’s a shame that it didn’t work out between us.” I do my very best to pull myself together. The waiter comes with the check. I focus on Millicent.

“Now to change the subject, I’ve decided to start my own company.”

“What? That’s awesome!”

“And Millicent, you would make me the happiest boss in the whole world if you’d agree to be my junior account executive, teammate, and partner.”

She screams so loudly that she scares the lunch crowd.

Chapter 59

Cal

Nope.

Not doing it.

I will not spend another night apologizing to Victoria in my mind, wishing things were different, feeling her loss down deep in my bones, and wanting her so bad that I feel like I’m losing my grip on reality.

I haven’t been ready to accept it, but it’s true.

I, Callum James MacLaine, US Navy lieutenant commander, explosive ordnance disposal expert and SEAL team chief, the man who’s made a career out of running toward bombs instead of away from them, is doubting himself when it comes to love.

I love her. I’ve loved her for a long while now. I’ll always love her.

And I have to start seeing that simple fact as a place to start, not the reason for a hard stop. Because, really, has any challenge, of any magnitude, ever caused me to quit? Haven’t I always seen failure as an opportunity? A chance to do it better next time? A prelude to success?

So here’s what I ask myself—am I just going to let the love of my life get away because “It didn’t work out?”

Fuck no.

I sit up in bed, turn on the lamp, and grab my phone.

I’m calling her. It’s the middle of the night, but I don’t care. What’s the worst that could happen? Actually, what’s the worst that will happen? She’ll call me every name in the book, and I’ll deserve them all.

Starting with an introductory, “Don’t you know what time it is, asshole?” Moving right along to stubborn bastard, distrustful dick, closed-off macho man, grumpy prick… it’s a long-ass list of names. She could go on forever if she wanted, and it would be completely understandable.

I go to my phone’s “favorites” list because I’ve never removed her. Why would I? She ended up there for a reason. Because I was falling in love with her. Because I enjoyed having her in my life. Because time in her company was my favorite part of every day.

I tap her name as it comes up on the screen.

Holy shit, I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what words will best convey how truly sorry I am, how badly I fucked up, and how much I regret the things I said to her.

She deserves so much better than what I’ve given her.

Time’s up. It’s ringing. I take a big breath and prepare myself for the sound of her sweet, sensual voice.

“We’re sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error—”

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