Chapter 6

It was pretty pathetic that Callie Montgomery, a twenty four year old, still didn't have a job with the degree she had. She had graduated with high honors when she went for her MBA, but here she was in her favorite Greek restaurant waiting for the woman she used to loathe to offer her a job.

It had been over half an hour, and as the minutes ticked on, Callie wondered if the woman would even show at all.

Penelope James was a very power hungry entrepreneur. She owned many boutiques across the country and ran her own clothing line. The vile woman liked to watch people fail, but Callie was certain she could land a job with the person who made her suffer all through college and give herself a name.

But another half an hour passed, and Callie finally concluded that Penelope wasn't going to make an appearance. So she walked across the street to Brother's where she spent her lonely Friday nights and on occasion, her weekends.

"The usual?" Teddie asked as he wiped down the west wing of his bar. He knew Callie very well. She was a beautiful woman, but he saw her strictly as his kid sister.

"Make it stronger this time," she defeatedly said, picking at an imaginary hangnail on her finger.

"I would usually tell you no, but it looks like you'll be needing it."

She laughed, unamused. "How about we just make it straight vodka?"

"Nah," he said as he poured half a glass of pink lemonade and mixed it with vodka. "I care about you too much to do that to your healthy body."

"You're so good to me, Teddie," she murmured, hungrily taking the glass into her hands. She took a sip and waited for the contents to settle before taking another sip. "Are there any openings here?"

"Oh, no," he said, shaking his head. "You aren't working at this shit place with your degree. Men would stare at your tits and make you cry just because they asked for your number in some vulgar way."

"I was supposed to meet someone tonight and hopefully get a job." She laughed at herself, but there was no humor in that. "I hate it here. I hated it in London. Where the hell am I supposed to go?"

"Anywhere you want to," he suggested, filling her glass up with a little extra vodka. He could see the pain in her hazel eyes all too well.

Teddie Sparrow was a handsome, young man, roughly around thirty. His eyes were as dark as night, and his black hair, which was so black that it was navy blue in certain light fixtures, was usually slicked back. But on this particular night, he kept it unruly and disheveled.

"Listen, baby doll," he said, popping a handful of peanuts into his mouth, "you're fucking gorgeous. You're smart and a little too naive, but you're gonna be alright."

"What's your take on leaving town? Should I do it?"

"Absolutely not," Ryan said from behind her. He took the stool next to her and pointed to a bottle of bourbon. "You can't leave Clyde and me, love."

Teddie set a bottle down in front of Ryan and nodded in agreement. "Where lover boy is concerned, you might want to stay to keep him sane. But you do what you gotta do, gorgeous."

Then he turned to another customer to strike up a conversation, leaving her to face one of her many demons.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, staring at the drink in her hand.

"I should be asking you that," he said, smirking. "You had an interview, did you not?"

"How'd you know?"

"I just did," he replied without offering a further explanation. He looked around the bar, spotted Agatha returning from the bathroom and smiled. "If you'll excuse me, I have someone who'll wonder where I've gone to."

Callie watched as he turned his back to her and made his way to the redhead across the bar. He pulled her to the dance floor, cupped her ass and swayed her to the rhythm of the music.

Ryan looked up, as if he could sense her gaze on him, but she was already gone from where he had left her. He caught sight of her leaving through the back of the bar and ran after her, despite Agatha shouting after him.

He caught Callie by the wrist just as they stepped through the door and opened his mouth to speak, but words failed him when he saw the tears in her eyes.

"Goodnight, Ryan," she whispered, tugging her hand away from his grip.

He defeatedly watched her walk to her car parked across the street and cursed when she drove off, leaving him to lust after her presence as he stood in the middle of the deserted alleyway.

What the hell was that feeling of emptiness the moment he lost contact? What was that unwanted pain that settled in his chest when he saw the tears in her beautiful hazel eyes?

He had to follow her, had to know she wasn't hurting on her own. He cared too much to let her grieve alone.

Hailing a cab, he grabbed his cellphone and dialed her number, but he was taken straight to voicemail.

He climbed into the backseat of the cab and tucked his phone away, frustratedly dragging his hands through his hair until it was a disheveled mess. "The Garden Complex," he told the cabbie. There was just that feeling where he knew Callie would be at his apartment instead of hers.

Ryan was a mess of nerves as he sat through the night traffic. Then they were pulling up in front of his apartment complex, and he threw a twenty over the seat before climbing out.

He jogged all the way to the lift and impatiently took the ride up. When he finally reached his apartment, the front door was unlocked, and Callie's clothes were scattered across his living room.

He walked into his bedroom, sighed when he saw her completely naked and her eyes crusted with tears. "Baby, put your clothes on so we can talk."

"What do you want, Ryan?" she asked, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip. She giggled when he turned away to avoid her gaze. "You can have it any way you'd like."

He could just picture the image of her creamy, pillared legs spread wide on the mattress, but he refused to look at her. He couldn't measure his strength, and he wouldn't if he saw her beautiful body. He'd succumb to her. "I just want to talk like friends do."

"We aren't friends," she said through a soft sigh. It was suppressed, heavy, almost like a moan. The sound only made Ryan a million times weaker for her. "We've done this before."

"That was before..." He trailed off and shook his head in frustration. Before what? Before he realized he cared for her? He'd always cared for her.

That was before he'd finally come to terms of how he felt.

That was before he fell in love. In love with her and not just her body. He was madly in love with Callie Montgomery.

He loved her not just for the sex, so it was easier to look at her now. He grabbed the comforter from beside her and threw it over her body, pulling her into his arms even as she squirmed and fought him.

"Stop," he demanded. The roughness in his voice immediately froze her. "What are you trying to prove, huh, love?"

"Just fuck me, Ryan. Fuck me into oblivion so it doesn't hurt anymore."

He was desperate to get answers, desperate to heal her salted wounds. "What's hurting you, baby? Please tell me."

"Everything," she cried, wiping her tears with the comforter. "It all fucking hurts, and I can't deal with it anymore."

"Is this because of your parents?"

She nodded. "They left me alone all the time. They left me and never came back for me."

"What else?"

"I'm afraid Ethan will find me alone one day. I'll scream, but no one will hear me."

"Keep going," he encouraged her, hugging her shaking body to his.

"Clyde will choose me over his job. He'll love a woman one day and have his own family. I won't be apart of it." She touched his cheeks and sniffled when she felt that they were also wet with tears. "You'll leave me, too. The second Clyde finds out about us, you'll choose him, and even if you don't, I'll ask you to. It's just me in the end."

"No, it's not," he tried to convince her, his voice breaking. He had known she had fears of being on her own, but he also knew she had been strong on the outside for too long. "As much as I love Clyde as my brother, I would choose you over and over again. Don't you see how much you mean to me?"

She shook in his arms. "It's so cold, Ryan. Hold me."

"I am, my love," he whispered, spreading butterfly kisses across her face. Her skin was burning up. "I'm holding you. I'm never letting you go."

Her breathing quickly changed the moment he kissed her lips, and he loved that he could revive her with his touch and the simple act of his love.