AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Does he make you beg like he makes me beg?” She jumps at me, not violently, but enough to stop me in my tracks, backing me up against the counter.
Now we’re face to face as someone enters the bathroom, a mom and her toddler son.
“Does he bend you over and fuck youhard? God, I like it like that.” I’m so disgusted, my skin crawls at the way she talks about Callan.
Still, I don’t respond or move. I’m trapped between her and the counter.
I don’t want to believe that Callan fucks this girl in this bathroom. I don’t want to imagine him fucking her, or anyone else, ever.
But I can’t act like I didn’t have some inclination of what he meant when he said he likes it rough, that he uses women, and there are rules.
“Did you know that today is his birthday? He likes rough sex on his birthday. Hope you’re prepared.” Her tone is devious. I suddenly feel ill. “Or maybe I’ll go out there and get things started, just like I have, every year before.” Her laugh is evil, like she knows just what kind of game she’s playing.
I can’t breathe. Knowing his name is one thing, he’s Callan David. Even Dakota knew of him before I did. But knowing his birthday…
Was he going to fuck her tonight?
Even after all that we shared with each other?
Maybe that’s why he didn’t want me to come.
Before I give her another chance to speak, I push past her, glancing at her name tag as I go,Desiree.
I rush out into the hall, stopping right before I enter the restaurant’s main dining room. I look over and Callan is still sitting at the table, the waiter handing the check back over. I watch him sign it and all I can think about is how he might have pulled her ponytail the way he pulled mine in his office. How he’s come here every year and fucked her in that bathroom.
Suddenly, I’m brought back to what Dakota told me, about Callan and the girl at her party.
It’s true, ithasto be true.
Can I even be mad? I don’t know, but I do know that I’m hurt.
My feet start to move beneath me like I’m walking on hot rocks. I push my way through the waiters, and I accidentally bump into one with a tray full of food.
“I’m so sorry,” I say as I frantically try to get out of the way. Glass sounding as it crashes to the floor, and everyone stares at me as I run toward the exit.
“Sterling!” I hear a familiar voice in the background, but I don’t need to look back to know it’s Callan’s.
My whole body floods with fury and humiliation. Desiree’s words buzz in my ears, Dakota’s story layered on top. My eyes begin to water against my will. I know I shouldn’t have expectations here and I know that I might be overreacting, but my heart is telling me to run.
twenty-six
Callan
Whatcouldhavepossiblyhappened that would’ve given her a reason to run out of the restaurant
We were having an amazing conversation just minutes ago. Some deep shit I would never catch myself dead speaking to another human. But I trust her. It’s different with her. But part of me wonders if she realizes it’s a mistake to get involved with someone like me and is trying to run away from everything we just put out in front of us.
I chase after her outside, looking around to see where she could have gone. I drove her here so I know she couldn’t have gotten far. I try to remain calm as I walk over to the valet and ask for my car keys, handing him a hundred as I shake his hand.
He pulls the McLaren around a few minutes later, but still no sign of Sterling. There’s a bus stop across the street but as I scan around, I see no sign of her.
I stop for a second and take a breath. Everything from our conversation still sits inside of me heavily, like I swallowed a dumbbell. As I start to relive the moments we shared over the last couple of hours, I hear a small, muffled cry coming from around the corner.
I ask the valet to hold the car for a few minutes, passing him another hundred as I walk toward the back alley of the restaurant. She’s sitting with her back against the brick of the building with her knees pulled into her chest, burying her face into the palms of her hands.
I take a minute to prepare myself, not knowing what to expect, but I approach her delicately.
“Sterling, what’s wrong?” I adjust my slacks to give me room to lean down and match her level, reaching my hand out to touch her elbow.
