Simmer Down - Sarah Smith Page 0,90

sight of the bustling crowds.

“What is it?”

He shoves his hand in his pocket and pulls out the stick of ChapStick I usually keep in my purse. “You dropped this at my flat the other night.”

I swipe it from his palm and put it in my apron pocket and almost laugh, confused as to why he chose now of all times to give it back to me. “Thanks, but you didn’t have to give this to me today. You could have waited.”

Shuffling his feet, he glances at the ground. “I thought you might, um, need it. For your, uh, lips.”

“Okay . . .”

I wait another second, but he says nothing. His eyes dart from me to the ground to the side and then back at me.

“Well, thanks.”

I turn away to walk back, but then he speaks, stopping me.

“I’m not going back to Chicago. After the festival, I mean.”

I take a step toward him. “What?”

“I’m staying here in Maui.”

“You are?”

He nods.

“Don’t you have a job and an apartment waiting for you?” I’m stunned at how hard my voice is in this moment. I should be happy. The guy I have feelings for, the guy I fantasize about on a regular basis, the guy I want more than anyone else in the world is staying here. But all I can process is shock.

Despite what I’ve said, the expression on his face reads tender. “I don’t care about any of that.”

My heart lodges in my throat. It also ceases beating. “What are you . . .”

His chest heaves with a single breath, and his hazel eyes lock on me. He steps forward and takes my face in his hands. Instantly I’m calm, I’m soft, I’m at ease.

“I want to be with you, Nikki. I want to stay here in Maui and give us a proper shot.” His voice is a cross between a whisper and a growl. Soft and scratchy.

“But that’s not what we agreed to.”

His hands fall away from me. Confusion takes over his formerly affectionate expression. “I know that, but . . . Don’t you feel this thing between us?”

I feel it every time I see him, every time he’s in the vicinity, every time I see his name light up my phone screen. It’s all proof of just how much this thing between us has grown. I care for Callum more than I’ve cared for anyone I’ve ever been with.

But I can’t do more than what we’re doing now. That would require a commitment, an emotional investment. It would require me steeling myself for the inevitable day that I lose him. And I don’t have the strength to do that.

Callum continues to gaze at me, eyes hopeful, waiting for me to say that yes, I feel every single thing he feels right now.

But all I do is shake my head.

“I know you feel something for me, Nikki.” His stare and his voice turn determined. “I can tell by the way you melt against me every time I touch you. I can tell by how happy you are every time we’re together. I can tell by the way you looked at me in the hot tub that night, when I started to tell you how I felt about you—about us. I can tell that I mean something to you. You’re just scared to commit because of what happened with your dad.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s so bloody obvious you’re scared of getting close to someone, of losing someone again.” He tugs a hand through his hair, an outward display of the frustration that’s clearly coursing within him.

“Don’t!” My voice booms through the festival noise. Callum has no business bringing up my dad in a situation that’s strictly me and him. I can’t believe he would even try. “Don’t say another word about my dad. And don’t try to armchair diagnose me.”

In two steps he’s close to me again. “It’s okay to be scared, Nikki. I’m scared too.” His face, his tone, it’s all soft now. “But fuck it, I want to give us a shot. Because that’s what you do when you lo—”

For a split second, his eyes widen, but then he reins it in quickly when he furrows his brow and pulls his lips into his mouth.

I can’t unhear what he said. The beginnings of the “L” word.

“What did you say?” My voice is a scratchy whisper.

His chest heaves when he takes a breath, and then he takes my hand in his. “I . . . I’m in love with you,” he finally says.

I

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