Page 71 of Highball Rush
GIBSON
Rain pattered on the roof and against the windows. A storm had rolled in after sunset, and it had been dumping out there for hours. I lay on the couch, my head on a pillow, a blanket over my legs, and stared at the ceiling, listening to the rain. Cash snored softly on his dog bed in the corner.
I couldn’t sleep. The memory of Callie’s lips against mine was visceral, like she’d imprinted herself on me. Her mouth had molded with mine so perfectly, her lips soft and sweet. I’d been trying so hard to hold back—to keep my feelings from showing. Hell, I barely knew what all those feelings meant.
But I’d cracked.
Despite the way I wanted her—the primal urge I’d been fighting to rip her clothes off—once I’d touched her, all that animalistic lust had taken a back seat. I’d never experienced anything like it.
I’d kissed her, but carefully. Like if I made one wrong move, she’d disappear. And it had felt better than any kiss—better than anything I’d had with a woman before. Sex was great; I enjoyed it as much as the next guy. But somehow kissing and holding her like that had been better.
It was really fucking with my head.
Because there was one thing that would explain what had happened to me today. One single reason that a simple kiss and a woman in my arms would have rocked my world like this. And it scared the living shit out of me to even think it.
I didn’t do love. I wasn’t cut out for it. I loved my family, even if I was terrible at showing it. But romantic love, relationships, commitment? That wasn’t for me.
My mama had made Scarlett promise she wouldn’t get married until she was thirty. She’d made us boys promise we wouldn’t get married for any reason, except one. Only if we were stupid in love.
She’d emphasized the wordstupid.
I hadn’t kept to that promise because I felt obligated, like my sister. I’d kept it because it made damn good sense. People like Harlan and Nadine Tucker—happily married after so many years—seemed like the exception. My parents were the rule. Two people stuck together by circumstances they couldn’t control, making each other miserable.
Maybe that was where the stupid came in. Because when I thought about Callie, it was hard to see a future of resentment and regret. In fact, I realized as I lay there, if I let her go, that might become the biggest regret of my life.
I was well and truly fucked. That was all there was to it. She hadn’t been here that long, and she’d already turned me inside out.
But when I thought about it, I’d always loved her a little bit. All those years ago, I hadn’t looked at her like a girl I wanted. She’d been young, and sweet, and innocent. Older or not, I’d been all wrong for her as a boyfriend. Still was.
But as a friend, we’d shared something special. That was how I’d loved her. With music. With songs and harmonies and the sound of my guitar.
The bedroom door whispered open. It was dark, but I could see Callie’s outline as she padded down the hallway. She hardly made a sound, turning the corner into the kitchen.
Without really thinking about what I was doing—or the fact that I wasn’t wearing anything except underwear—I tossed the blanket aside and got up. I found her at the sink, filling up a glass of water in the dark.
“You all right?” I whispered.
She turned around, still holding her glass, and even in the dim light, I could tell she wasn’t.
“No.”
I took the glass and set it on the counter, then brushed her hair back from her face. “What’s wrong?”
Her voice shook. “I woke up after a bad dream and now I can’t calm down. I keep remembering things, but they’re all confusing flashes. It’s like suddenly my brain wants to replay all the worst moments of my life, but none of them make sense.”
Slipping my hands around her waist, I drew her close. Kissed her forehead. “Nothing can hurt you here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She leaned on my bare chest and I hugged her against me. I had no idea what I was doing. Comforting someone wasn’t exactly in my skill set. But this seemed simple enough. Wrap my arms around her and hold her tight.
The best part was, it felt really fucking good.
There was so much happening inside me. My chest felt warm and full, like I might burst. Her hair smelled like heaven and the feel of her in my arms was so right. Perfect, even. Like the roads we’d both taken had always been leading to this.
Was this what love felt like? A rush of euphoria and affection mixed with a healthy dose of terror? Had my brothers been through this? I’d never bothered to ask. Hadn’t thought it would apply to me.
Callie wound her arms around my waist, her body trembling. I rested my cheek against her head and rubbed slow circles across her back. Right now, in this moment, I wanted nothing more than to make her feel better. To make things okay again.
“Let’s go back to bed,” I whispered.
