I turned around fully, tucking my chin in my scarf. That wasn’t going to work, since he was almost a foot and a half taller than me, so I tipped my head back to meet his gaze.
“Hi. You probably don’t remember me, but—”
“I remember you, Wren,” he drawled.Rin. God, I loved that too much.
“Okay.” Hearing his voice still felt like a kick to the solar plexus, but I wanted more of it. “Are you getting coffee before you head to the studio? I can always grab it for you.”
“That’s all right.” He nodded at my lunch bag in my hand. “You’re on your break.”
The line moved, so I stepped back. There were still three people between me and the register.
“Yeah, I am. But I wouldn’t mind.”
He stared back at me but didn’t reply. Like this, face to face and up close, I noticed things about him, details I stocked away in the cavity of my chest reserved for all things Callum Rose.
His cheeks were flushed. Probably from the cold. And it looked good on him. Made him more human. Almost touchable. He wasn’t impervious to weather.
The pools of his eyes weren’t as opaque as they’d appeared from far away. I could see subtle flecks of lighter blue and a tiny bit of yellow and gold. Like pebbles in the bed of a clear, glacial stream.
The tops of his hands were slightly chapped, and the skin was rugged looking. Knuckles slightly scarred. A fresh cut on his right hand.
Beneath his thick, golden stubble was a dark bruise on his jaw and a cut on the opposite cheekbone. Looked like Callum Rose had been in a fight recently.
After ordering, we waited at the end of the counter for our drinks. I was at a loss for words, and Callum didn’t seem to be interested in speaking. But it hadn’t escaped my notice that he’d chosen to stand right beside me, the sleeve of his leather jacket brushing my wool coat. That had to mean something.
“Adam invited me to the party you’re going to Friday.”
Callum startled, the hand that had been on the way to his face freezing in midair. “He did?”
“Mmhmm. I haven’t said yes yet but—”
“Say no.” He moved in front of me, heat blasting from his hard glare. “You’re not going to any party Adam is going to.”
My stomach plummeted so fast, I had to bite back bile. “That isn’t…um…”
“No,” he said again.
“Why?” I whispered. I shouldn’t have pressed it, but if he was going to be an asshole, I wanted him to fully own it.
“The parties Adam and I go to aren’t for a girl like you.” He reached around me and grabbed his cup from the counter. “Take your coffee, Wren. Go eat your lunch. Forget about this.”
His cheeks were flaming red. Not from the cold this time. Was he burning up at me?
“What does that mean?” I asked.
He shook his head again, hard enough to cause a lock of his blond hair to swoop down on his forehead. He brushed it back roughly while scorching me with his heated gaze.
“The answer is no.”
Then he turned on his heel and stalked out of the shop. Like he was angry at me. Why? For thinking I might be associated with him in public? I didn’t understand, not really. My throat felt swollen. It was almost impossible to swallow.
I wasn’t sure why I was surprised. At one point, I had thought I’d known Callum better than anyone else in my life. Better than anyone inhislife. But letters can lie. Words on a screen that had meant everything at the time weren’t relevant anymore. Besides, the last email I’d read from Callum had been over three and a half years ago. I’d changed since then. Obviously, so had he.
I ate my lunch in the park, barely tasting it. My mocha scorched the roof of my mouth. I tried to sort out my feelings, but I couldn’t decide if I was hurt or angry, so I let it go. It didn’t matter. I had other things—other people—in my life who were far more important than an arrogant rock star.
Four and a half years ago
Dear Callum,