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“Sorry,” I mutter, only slightly mortified.
She plays with the braided bracelet on her wrist, like it’s a nervous habit. “I like to be a good person, but being a good person is never going to be enough. I’m never going to please everyone. I gave up trying a few years ago.”
“I can see how that could take a toll...” I know I couldn’t do it.
“And if you want a flaw, I hate coffee. But if you ever tell anyone that, I’ll deny it. Apparently, hating coffee is un-American.”
I stand there, shocked. “Your mom is the biggest coffee freak I’ve ever met.”
“Yup. And one of her favorite brands is one of my biggest sponsors. Talk about a giant flaw.” She opens my front door and smiles at me. “See you soon, Cait.”
I lock the door behind her and jump at the sound of Callen’s voice.
“She curses like a trucker too. Bet her fans would love to know that.”
I turn and find him showered and changed into a pair of navy-blue sweats and a gray tee. His eyes are heavy and hollow as he leans his shoulder against the door frame.Shit.“How did things go with your dad?”
He doesn’t move. Not an inch as I go to him and run my hands over his chest.
“Stage two. Treatable.Fightable. Never gonna be something that’s curable. But it’s something he could live a long life with. Would have been very different if it was stage three.” He cups my shoulders and closes his eyes. “He’s got a fight ahead of him, but Dad’s always been a fighter.”
“He’s going to be okay, Callen.” I echo back, not sure how to make any of this better for him but desperate to try.
“Yeah...” He shakes his head, and that’s when I see it.
The resignation in his eyes.
And it guts me.
“Caitlin . . .”
“Don’t, Callen.” I rest two fingers against his lips as my heart breaks. “I’ve had a really good day, and I’m not ready to think about Maddox or any of the possible issues between us. I just want to be us tonight.”
With exhausted eyes half-closed, he kisses the tips of my fingers. “I’m so tired, Caitie.”
Caitie . . .
“Then let’s go to bed.” I take his hand in mine and lead him upstairs, past my room and into his. “Sit down, Callen.” I push him back until he sits on the bed and watches me strip out of my clothes.
I can feel his eyes on me like he’s touching my skin.
Like this is the last time he’s touching my skin.
“You’re exhausted.” I grab one of his tees and slide it over my body and breathe in the smell of Callen as it surrounds me, then climb onto his lap and cup his face in my hands. “Was practice okay? Are you ready for the game tomorrow?”
“I doubt I’ll play tomorrow,” he groans and closes his eyes and drops his chin to his chest as I massage his tight muscles. “That feels good.”
“Let me take care of you, Callen.” I want to cry because it all feels so wrong. And maybe it’s me. Maybe it’s what’s going onwith Coach and I’m making it about myself, but there’s been a seismic shift between this morning and now.
Something is wrong. I know it, even if I’m too scared to push for answers.
Instead, I kiss the top of his head and lay him down before I climb into his arms and rest my head on his chest.
We don’t speak for the longest time.
Just lie there in the silence as I cling to him.
Feeling him slipping away.
