Page 101 of What Hurts Us

“Of all the places I’ve lived, this is my favorite.”

He hunched forward, wrapping his arms around my middle and burying his head in the crook of my neck. “Falls Creek?”

I laughed. “No, Falls Creek is inconvenient as hell. You have to drive into the city for any good stores; the only takeout options are the Mule, a greasy spoon with questionable drive-through service, and a bar that I’m no longer welcome in thanks to BJ feeding me overpriced wine.” I slid my hands up and down the tight denim that hugged every bit of his muscular legs. “Right here. This is my favorite place.”

His hand circled the base of my jaw, guiding my lips to his. “You know that old saying, ‘fake it ’til you make it?’”

I nodded.

Callum chuckled. “I guess we did it.”

34

LAYLA

“Morning, honey.”

I peered through lowered eyes. Crusty protein fused my lids. Callum rolled over and tucked his hand behind his head. His tattoo-wrapped bicep bulged, acting as a pillow for his bedhead.

Rolling onto my back, I rubbed my eyes. “Mornin’.”

His sleepy chuckle warmed me. “You’re cute when you first wake up.”

“What do you mean?” I murmured, making the final turn in my three-point flop to my side. I tucked my hands beneath my cheek and closed my eyes again.

Cal’s thumb traced my lips. “You frown when you’re asleep.” He trailed his knuckle down the bridge of my nose. “Your eyebrows form this little groove in the middle.” He pecked my nose. “It’s cute.”

The godforsaken alarm blared, shattering the tender moment. With one arm, Callum dragged me into his chest. With the other, he slapped the shit out of the clock, sending it into the snooze graveyard.

“We stayed out too late last night,” I mumbled into his pectoral.

He snorted. “You stay up all night on the regular.”

“Only when I’m getting paid to.”

I reached for the edge of the comforter, but Cal’s thick arms banded around my biceps. “Five more minutes,” he mumbled. “Five minutes just like this.”

I relented, snuggling deeper into his warmth. Cal was built like a freight train, but there was a comfort to his build. It wasn’t all rock-hard muscle. The soft cocoon he created around me felt like heaven. He was halfway betweenbodybuilderanddad bod.

Callum with a dad bod would be fine as hell…

“Nope, two more minutes. Lay down,” Cal clipped when he felt me tense.

With the notion of him having a dad bod came the notion of him being a dad. The thought of little feet pitter-pattering across the floor. The vision of a chunky toddler wanting to try on daddy’s motorcycle helmet or mommy’s flight helmet. It was diapers and bottles and long nights and tough days… It was a life. Full and complicated, but fulfilling and beautiful in the same.

Cal’s lips grazed the shell of my ear. “You okay, honey?”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “I’m good.”

By the time the alarm went off again, I was fast asleep. Callum shook me gently and kissed my neck. “Gotta get a move on. If I go down and make coffee, are you gonna fall asleep again?”

“No,” I murmured, crossing my fingers under the covers.

“Liar,” he chuckled as he peeled away and swung his legs over the edge. “Get on up, honey. I don’t want AB coming after me. That woman’s scary as hell.”

He wasn’t wrong. Ten minutes later, I was up, dressed, and throwing the last of my necessities for a twenty-four-hour shift into my duffle. Cal met me at the door, dressed in his uniform. His to-go thermos of coffee was standard stainless steel, while mine was covered with a sparkly vinyl decal I made that read,A little flighty, a little stabby.It was accompanied by silhouettes of a helicopter and syringe.

“Stay safe out there today,” I said as I ghosted my fingertip over his badge. “I love you.”

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