Page 90 of My Rockstar Ex's Broken Vows

"Yeah," he says, his hand sliding from my hip to curl around my waist, pulling me closer. "That was amazing. I love… everything about you."

I don’t respond right away, the word settling in the space between us. Love. It feels big and delicate and entirely too soon after how long we've been apart, but at the same time, it doesn’t. It feels like breathing, like something that’s always been there, just waiting to be reignited.

"It was," I say softly, my voice steady. "I love you, Callum. I never stopped."

He stills, his gaze locking on mine. For a second, I think I’ve miscalculated, but then his lips curve into that lopsided grin that always makes my stomach flip. "You know," he murmurs, "I was going to say it first, but you stole my thunder. Typical."

I laugh again, feeling like a giddy schoolgirl. I was a giddy schoolgirl the last time I said those words to him. A college schoolgirl, but young and naïve all the same.

Telling him that again takes me right back there to that time when anything and everything was possible.

He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. "I love you too, Sienna," he says against my mouth with his sexy, low, and scratchy voice. "I’ve always loved you."

God, the sound of his voice alone sends tingles through my entire body.

The words settle over me and wrap around my heart in a way that feels almost too big to hold. I run my fingers through his hair and smile as he pulls me closer. His nose brushes against mine and it's like our souls are touching again for the first time.

"Say it again," he murmurs, his lips grazing my temple.

"I love you," I whisper, my voice soft but steady. "I love you, Callum Reid."

His grin is slow and a little mischievous, the kind that always made my knees weak. "Damn right, you do."

I swat his chest, laughing as he rolls us over so I’m beneath him. His weight pins me to the mattress and the security and passion it brings is overwhelming.

He kisses me again, slow and teasing, until I’m a little dizzy and totally lost in him.

When he finally pulls back, his hand cradling my jaw, he looks down at me with that familiar, crooked smile. "So, beautiful, captivating Sienna, what do we want to do today? The world is your oyster."

I laugh softly, my fingers tracing the line of his shoulder. "You make it sound so easy."

"With you?" he murmurs, his voice low and warm. "It is easy."

I smile, but there’s a pang of something deeper—something bittersweet that I can’t shake. For just a second, I let myself wonder what it would’ve been like if things had gone differently. If Callum had been the one there when Ollie was born, raising him, sharing the little moments. How much simpler everything would be. How much happier.

But the thought passes as quickly as it comes, swept away by the warmth of his hand sliding over my waist.

I smile, but it falters slightly as reality nudges its way back in. "I think we need to do something. Distract me before my mind starts worrying about Ollie."

He props himself up on one elbow, his expression softening. "Why? What’s going on?"

"He has his music lesson this afternoon," I say, shifting onto my back and staring up at the ceiling. "I just hope Marcus takes him this time and doesn’t try to sabotage it."

"Why would he ruin that for him?" Callum asks, his brow furrowing. "Isn’t it just an hour?"

"It’s not the time," I say, shaking my head. "It’s... Marcus. He always wants to change people and mold them into what he thinks they should be. I don’t know. I just worry. Ollie loves it so much."

Callum’s hand slides to my waist, his thumb brushing gently against my side. "That kid sounds like he’s got it figured out. I mean, he’s five and already knows what makes him happy."

I smile again, softer this time. "He really does. Music is his jam. He’s always humming, making up little songs. I think he has natural talent. You know a little something about that! Marcus wants him to be a little lawyer."

"Well," Callum says, his voice taking on a thoughtful edge. "Maybe I can help with that."

I turn my head to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "Help how?"

He grins, sitting up and reaching for the nightstand. "Hold on," he says and I see the gears in his eyes turning.

He climbs out of bed, and I take a moment to appreciate the view—his completely nude, lean, muscled frame. The way the sunlight catches the tattoos on his arm makes me drool.

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