21. Callum

21

CALLUM

T he smell of coffee roused me from sleep, the last wisps of my evanescent dream fading away. The only piece that clung to my consciousness was the image of Rhys laid out before me, wanton and beautiful. It had been damn difficult to fall asleep plagued by thoughts of him, my dick in a state of perpetual arousal around him.

It was getting harder to pretend I didn’t want Rhys like I did, to put on the front that I was nothing but his friend when I had been one breath away from throwing him on the bed yesterday and ravaging his mouth (and other things). I wasn’t a dumbass, I saw how I affected Rhys when I got close to him in my room. He had blushed so prettily and his eyes were so dilated with lust that it had taken a Herculean effort to keep my hands to myself.

After six hours in the car with him, I thought I'd get that antsy, overwhelmed feeling that usually happened when I'd been around others too long. Even Kenji and Griffin weren't immune to my need for space, so I expected Rhys would have done something to run out my tolerance.

He never did. That gorgeous little shit had me entertained from the second I got in the car up until I went to bed around midnight. The hour we'd been apart for us to refresh and unpack had sucked and I'd practically raced downstairs to hang out with him and his grandmother. I mean, who the fuck was I even becoming? Did Callum Hawkins seem like the kind of man who enjoyed spending time with a sweet, rambling nerd and his food-peddling grandma? Hell no. Who's buying that story?

But fuck, it was all I had wanted and more. It was fun being with Rhys and Gran, just shooting the shit and playing board games last night. Gran was funny and sharp-witted and it had been almost as easy to talk to her as it was Rhys. I hadn't experienced that instant feeling of belonging in God knows how long, but that was the only way to describe it. I hadn't felt like just a guest, but rather like I belonged here with them. It felt like coming home.

That thought was too intense for my brain without caffeine, so I rolled out of bed and shuffled downstairs. As I rounded the kitchen, Gran came into view seated at the breakfast nook by the window. She didn't look like a typical grandmother, younger than you'd expect her to be. With her still blonde bouffant hair and wide bright smile, she sort of reminded me of Jessica Lange in American Horror Story, but without being all stabby and shit. She had a comforting air that drew you in and had you wanting to tell her anything. I could see why Rhys considered her his best friend. The woman was awesome. Plus she kicked my ass at Chinese checkers, but that was decidedly less awesome.

“Well, 'bout time you joined the land of the living, sunshine. I was beginning to wonder if you fell into a coma or something up there,” Gran remarked, sipping her coffee happily while reading a book with some raunchy cover on it.

“What time is it?” I asked, curious just how late I'd slept.

“Almost nine thirty. You're wastin' the best part of the day. All the best stuff happens in the mornin',” she replied.

I couldn't hold back my disbelieving snort. “It's still morning! I didn't even sleep in that late. And in my experience, the best stuff usually happens more at night.”

She peered over her reading glasses at me, eyebrows raised and pinning me with a knowing look. “I can only guess what good things you think happen at night, mister. When you're older, you'll realize that I'm right and you're wrong about this. It's a gift that comes with age. Now, you want coffee or don't ya?”

A smile broke out on my face as I made my way to the coffee pot, her sass just as intriguing as Rhys'. Speaking of …

“What about Rhys? I don't see you giving him a hard time about sleeping in oh so late ,” I teased her, and she smirked at me smugly.

“That boy woke up about an hour ago and is grabbin' coffee with his friend Laura. He should be back around ten. See? If you'd been up and at 'em earlier, you could have gone with. But pity for you, you're stuck here with me.”

“Eh, that's a pretty decent consolation prize. Also you've got the only thing I need right here.” I raised my mug to emphasize my point and sat down across from her. “Wait, Laura? Isn't that the nurse from when he…”

“One and the same. Rhys always makes time to see her for a bit when he's up here. I can only imagine what he's tellin' her about you,” Gran chirped, peeking up at me from her book.

I choked on the giant sip I had taken, my eyes widening at her. “What do you mean by that? Why would he tell her anything about me?”

She let out a deep chuckle, shaking her head as if I was missing something completely obvious. “Honey, she and Rhys are as thick as thieves, and the one thing he has always gone to her with, without fail, is his love life. From what I witnessed yesterday, I'd bet my Sunday pearls that you're the topic of conversation with them right now.”

I blanched, unsure of how to feel about that. A spark of happiness hit me, thinking that could be a sign that Rhys had me on his mind as much as he'd been on mine. But there was that whisper of dread that he could be complaining to her about all I had done, sharing with her how much of a mistake I was.

“It may not be that great of a conversation then,” I mumbled into my coffee cup.

“Now why would you say that?” Gran asked, head cocked slightly as she took me in.

That was definitely not something I wanted her to know about. She'd probably kick me out of the house without giving me time to pack if she knew mine and Rhys' history. “Uh, no reason. There's just not much to say about us, that's all,” I deflected.

“Ah. I thought it might have had something to do with that…misunderstanding you two had over Thanksgivin'?” She locked eyes with me and I froze in my seat, fearing the worst.

“You…Rhys told you about the lakehouse?…”

“He didn't give me all the specifics, but he told me enough. You done messed up good, huh?” She snickered, and I relaxed a fraction at the patient look she was giving me.

I let out a deep breath, sagging in my seat. “Yeah, you could say that. God, I can't believe I was such a prick…I mean, jerk to him. I still don't really know why I was like that with him.”

“Well, I have a theory about that, but you probably won't like it.” She sipped her drink noisily.

“Why do I get the distinct impression that you're going to tell me even if I begged you not to?” I guessed, narrowing my gaze at her.

“Because you're not as stupid as you look,” she deadpanned, and I barked out a laugh. “Now pipe down. I'm gonna tell you my theory. Now, I don't know too much about your life because Rhys isn't one to run his mouth about things that ain't his business. But from what little I gathered, you're used to being angry and closed off because you stay in control that way, and when we're in control we feel less pain. Rhys was takin' the control from you and makin' you feel things you weren't used to feelin'. How am I doin' so far?”

I could only sit and stare at her, this woman who was reading me as clearly as she was the book in her hands. I was either way too transparent or Rhys had told her more than I thought he would. She continued when I stayed silent.

“You might be surprised, but I've seen this tale play out before. I can recognize a hurt soul when I see one. Rhys' daddy, my Everett, he was one to push people away and hide in his anger too. When he lost his father right after high school, it changed him. Alice did her best to comfort him and be there for him, but Everett was so lost. His father was his twin flame, those two were the same person in a different body. He just couldn't see a way out of his grief. I'm guessing you know what that's like.” Her shrewd gaze flayed me open, every word she said was like it had been torn from my own thoughts.

“It got to a real bad point with him and Alice. Everett was doing everything he could to avoid feeling anything, and of course, Alice brought up everything in him. Love has a funny way of doing that. It shines a light on every corner of us, giving us nowhere to hide. That terrified my son, and he almost lost the love of his life because of it. People can only take being pushed so far, you know? Don't let that happen to you and Rhys. You'll have more regret than you could live with if that happens,” she told me, tone firm yet gentle .

“It's—Rhys and I aren't like that. We're just friends,” I forced out, but the lie tasted like ash on my tongue.

She tilted her head side to side as if considering my words. “For now,” she said simply.

I blinked harshly, willing the acidic tears to retreat. It was a lot to take in this early, especially from someone I'd known for only twenty-four hours, but somehow it felt right coming from her. There was no judgment in her voice, no demands that I leave Rhys alone. She wanted us to have our best shot. I just had to be brave enough to take it.

“What if I screw things up between us?” I whispered, not trusting my own voice. “Rhys deserves better than me.”

“Let me tell you something about my grandson,” Gran started softly. “He has been through more pain and heartache than most kids his age ever should. Not only did he lose both his parents at such a crucial time in his life, but he's been bullied and picked on more times than I care to think about. He's been hurt physically, mentally and emotionally over and over again. He carries wounds that run deep and he's had to work hard not to let it harden him. It's also made him very selective of who he decides to give his time and trust to. Rhys doesn't waste his time on people who are unworthy of his efforts. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

My stomach clenched and I thought of how compassionate and forgiving Rhys was with me, despite all my shortcomings. He'd miraculously let his guard down again to give me the opportunity to fix things with us, to be in his life. We'd finally gotten to a good place, but what if we could be better? What if I could give him more and be what he deserved?

“You really think I'll be good for him?” I questioned, needing her approval more than anything.

She graced me with a smile that spoke volumes. “If I'm right in my second theory, I think you will end up being the best thing for him.”

Her vote of confidence ran through me like adrenaline, warming every cell in my body with a need to prove her right. I wanted to show her and myself that I could be everything that Rhys needed and more.

Instead of letting that thought run wild, I pivoted to something I had been curious about since meeting her. My gaze flicked to the wall of crosses hanging opposite the kitchen .

“Can I ask you something that I really hope won't offend you?” I said hesitantly.

“Absolutely. I don't get offended by much,” she smiled.

“It's just…you talk about me and Rhys…being together so easily, but you're a Christian. Rhys told me how involved you are in church and how it's such a big part of your life, and I'm just wondering how you're able to accept him being gay like you do? That hasn't always been my experience with religious types.”

This had been itching at my brain since we got here yesterday, and it had been a little awkward when we'd said grace before lunch and dinner. I had never grown up in an overly religious home, my mom being more spiritual than anything. Blair and Jack had belonged to a church close to their house, and each time I heard that people were praying for me when I accused Blair of abuse, it stoked the bitterness and hatred I had for anyone who hid behind religion. I still remember Blair shrieking that I was a sinner and an abomination when I had snapped once and told her I liked dudes. It had gotten me two hours in that goddamn closet, but it had been worth it to see her face.

“Well, that's a fair question. I think some Christians get things twisted about what's really right and wrong in this world. We're not called to judge others for perceived mistakes, only to love them and show forgiveness when we're wronged. At the end of the day, we're all sinners. It really shouldn't make a difference what anyone does behind closed doors as long as they ain't hurtin' anyone. In my book, being gay doesn't even rank as a sin because love shouldn't be seen as something wrong. It's not like stealing or murder. Love is a gift, no matter who it's shared between.”

“But doesn't your faith say people like me and Rhys are mistakes?”

Her eyes flashed angrily, and I worried I'd overstepped. “God doesn't make mistakes. Nothing about my Rhys could be a mistake, including who he chooses to love, mostly because I don't think he has much choice in the matter anyway. None of us do. Like that Lady Goo Goo says, he was born this way.”

“I think you mean Lady Gaga…”

“Don't correct an old woman. It's rude. My way is better,” Gran said matter-of-factly and a laugh escaped me at her self-satisfied look. “Just remember Cal, there are some folks who consider themselves a Christian just because they pray and go to church and claim to love God. But being in a church doesn't make you a Christian anymore than being in a lake makes you a fish. Actions will tell you who someone really is, and I will treat everyone, including my very gay grandson, with nothing but love and kindness until I die. If I get judged for that in the afterlife, so be it. At least Rhys will know without a doubt that he was loved and accepted for who he is. So should you be.”

I dropped my eyes to my lap, not wanting her to see the traitorous tears that had worked their way back up. For fucks sake, one day in Oklahoma had turned me into a mess of hormones. This was just embarrassing.

We were interrupted by the front door opening and closing, Rhys coming around the corner a few seconds later.

“Hey Gran, Laura said hi. Oh, morning, Cal! Did you sleep okay?” Rhys asked, his sweet face flushed as he noticed me at the table. Jesus, he was breathtaking. His wavy brown hair was mussed from the beanie he'd pulled from his head, and the navy turtleneck he wore made him look sophisticated and sexy. I hadn't seen his ass yet, but I knew intimately what those jeans were hiding from my view. It had been far too long since I'd seen it, and my hands tingled with the desire to run all over his lithe body.

But it was his smile that stopped my breath and sent my heart into overdrive. It pounded behind my ribcage as if trying to escape my chest and find its home in his hands. I didn't know if I was still falling for him or if this was something more. How far did I have to fall before I hit the ground at his feet?

But if that was how I went out, what a beautiful death it would be.

Rhys hadn't been exaggerating when he compared his hometown to a Hallmark Christmas movie. The square was lit up with millions of lights strung from the tops of buildings, woven into the trees, and hanging from the eaves like falling snow. Families walked around with cups of hot chocolate and caramel apples, holiday music in the air providing the soundtrack to the idyllic scene.

We had been walking around for over an hour, taking in all the booths and shops that had stayed open late for the festival. Rhys' smile was wide and uninhibited, the joy pouring off him in waves. It was intoxicating to see him so happy. It was clear how much this town and its tradition meant to him. I was thankful the problems he faced when he was growing up here hadn't stolen his love for this place. He yanked and tugged me all over the Square, pointing out areas that held special meaning to him over the years.

That was mine and my parents' favorite place to eat when I was a kid!

Over there is where I passed out from heat exhaustion and had some hunky paramedics come help me.

This store was where I had my first job at sixteen. The owners were this sweet old couple and it was the best!

That bench is where I had my first kiss when I snuck out to see Connor one night.

That particular memory made me want to cut my ears off, but I wasn't going to deter him from sharing everything with me. It was like this place opened a window into who Rhys used to be before I met him, allowing me glimpses of his past. Every new tale he told me had me craving more, hungry for every detail I could soak up of his life. I had never wanted to know someone on this level before. I never cared to see anyone deeper than the front they put up. With Rhys, I wanted to know every story, every memory, every minute that I could get. I wanted it all.

He finally wore himself out and coerced me into getting hot cocoa with him. And by coerced I mean he flashed me a pleading look with those bewitching eyes of his and I caved in a hot second. There was nothing I could have denied him when he looked at me like that. We took our drinks and began another meandering stroll, simply taking in the ambiance that time.

I had never experienced anything like this, even as a kid. Mom loved the holidays, but we usually cocooned ourselves in our house, watched Christmas movies, and just spent time together. My grandparents were never involved, but Uncle Jack would often come over once or twice during the break to hang out with us. Looking back, that probably should have clued me in that he was more than the devoted uncle seeing as how Blair was nowhere to be found when he'd come over. I don't know when she was told that I was Jack's son, or if she even figured it out on her own, but her hatred of mom kept her away for as long as I could remember. I was grateful for that since those Christmases with mom and Jack were some of the happiest times of my childhood.

I pulled out my phone, contemplating whether or not I should send him a text to say thank you for paying my tuition. It was a fucking stupid idea. I hadn't texted or talked to him since I left his house that day, and it's not like he didn't owe me. He kept me a secret, left mom to raise me alone, abandoned me to Blair then refused to believe me when I told him what she did to me. Yet in the far, dark recesses of myself, there was still a small part of me that wanted Jack's love. My dad's love.

“Wow, what's with the face, Scrooge? Not enjoying all this?” Rhys chirped from beside me, pulling my attention back to him and the festival.

“Oh, nah, I love it. It's…definitely something.” His eyebrow shot up in disbelief, then he rolled his eyes at me, tossing our empty cups in the trash.

“Sure, because that look just screams Christmas spirit. Try to be more convincing when the Ghost of Christmas Future visits you tonight,” he teased, thinking he was so damn clever. Though he was. It was one of the many reasons I lov—liked him so much.

Jesus, I am goddamn hopeless for a guy who doesn't want me the same way. Maybe the ghost of Jacob Marley can just come and put me out of my misery instead. What a holly, jolly miracle that would be.

“You're such a nerd,” I said affectionately, pinching his side and making him squeal with laughter. Instantly, his hand slapped over his mouth and he backhanded me on the shoulder. I laughed at the adorable outrage plastered on his face and I longed to kiss it off him.

“Do not tickle me or I will not be responsible for any damage or bodily mutilation I cause!”

“Those be fightin’ words, Evans. You know I love a challenge,” I grinned mischievously at him. Those violet eyes popped wide and he took a large step away from me, but his heel slid off the curb and nearly sent him tumbling. “Shit, watch out!” I swore.

I grabbed his arm, yanking him back up. He crashed into me and my arms banded around him, keeping him close until he was steady on his feet. His breathing was short and choppy from the adrenaline, and his fingers dug into my arms. Suddenly, I felt as out of breath as he was. Awareness of his body pressed against mine swept my system, every synapse firing at the feel of him in my arms.

Rhys' gaze slid up to mine and it was like a blow to the chest. Those eyes of his had the power to unman me, to ruin me. I studied every inch of his pristine skin, admired the light freckles that looked so good on him. His lips were slightly chapped and abused, as though he'd been biting at them more often. God, what I'd give to bite that lip of his now, lick over it until he was panting for me. I swallowed down the urge, but Rhys honed in on my Adam's apple.

There was no mistaking the lust clouding his eyes, or the rapid beat of his heart that vibrated into my own skin. We were lost in the bubble we created together, impervious to the world passing around us. It was all white noise in my ears, nebulous and barely existing to me. All that I could see, all I cared about was Rhys.

“You okay, Sweetness?” The words were rough, forced through the tightness in my throat. His lips parted before his tongue peeked out to wet them, and my cock twitched with need. I knew he felt it when his eyes dilated again and he glanced at my jeans quickly. Yet he didn't pull away, he didn't even squirm. He was still nestled in my arms and I wanted to keep him there forever.

If I asked him to, would he stay here where he belonged? Could I keep him?

“Rhys!”

The unfamiliar voice startled us both, our arms dropping in tandem. The space between us tore at my insides, feeling all sorts of wrong. My irritation spiked at being rudely interrupted from…whatever the hell that was with us. But there had been something, damn it. I know he felt it too.

I took a moment to calm my aching cock, willing it to go down so all the innocent families around us didn't witness my shame. Rhys looked around for the annoying interloper, but wasn't having any luck. Once again Rhys' name was called out and I turned toward the sound.

Recognition hit me like a brick to the face. I had seen that cocky smile before. His hair was a little longer now and he was a bit more tan, but there was no mistaking him. He was the same guy Rhys had been drooling over on Instagram in the class I had crashed. He was the same guy in the photo on Gran's wall. He was the same guy who had kissed Rhys on a bench in this very Square.

Well, fuck.

“Connor? What are you doing here?” Rhys squeaked, his face devoid of color. He took a minuscule step closer to me, and possessiveness flared within me. I was itching to grab him and pull him into me again, show this Connor douche who Rhys truly belonged to now. The fact that he didn't technically belong to me was inconsequential.

I've licked his face before and we all know the rules. I licked it and it's mine.

“Holy shit, it's so good to see you! I was hoping I'd run into you here. You never could resist the Christmas lighting festival, could you?” Connor said charmingly, hitting Rhys with a megawatt smile that made my fists clench dangerously. Seeing as how violence most likely wasn't the answer in this situation, I silently waited for Rhys to introduce me instead of catching an assault charge. Like the good idiot I am…

“Yeah, it's good to see you too! Uhh, you look…great. Really great. Um, so you're here seeing your folks?” Rhys answered, a slight tremble in his tone. I despised the way he seemed fluttery and nervous around this asshat. Did he still have feelings for him? And what the fuck was that about him looking great? Was good not nice enough? Ugh, this whole thing was turning my stomach and my blood felt like acid in my veins.

Connor just smiled and ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair. Like an asshole. Who ruins styled hair like that? Also why was it not ruined? How does he somehow look even better now? God, I need hard liquor.

“You know it. Mom would probably stroke out if I didn't come home for Christmas since I didn't visit over the summer. She asks about you all the time, you know?” His eyes never left Rhys, like he was the only person around and I wasn't standing there right next to him. It took a disgusting amount of self-control not to inject myself into their conversation, but I didn't want to embarrass Rhys. He didn't need that from me.

“Yeah, I miss her. Tell her I said hi,” Rhys replied sweetly. “Oh, this is Cal by the way. He's staying with me and Gran for winter break. Cal, this is my old friend Connor I told you about.”

Fucking finally he introduced me. I mean, I get it. I'd be distracted by all that perfect hair too if I wasn't busy fantasizing about shaving it all off. He'd probably look good bald too though because life just fucking sucks that way.

“Hey man, nice to meet you,” I said gruffly, sticking my hand out toward him. He shook it as his gaze raked over me from top to bottom, as though gauging whether or not I was the competition. Of course, there would be no competition because I had no damn intention of letting him anywhere near Rhys again after tonight. He couldn't have my Sweetness.

“Yeah, you too,” Connor said noncommittally, turning back to Rhys. “So listen, I'd love to get together with you and catch up over the break. You can even come and hang out with me and the fam one day if you can! My parents would kill to see you. It'd be just like old times. ”

Was this fucker for real? I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt that maybe he'd misheard Rhys about my staying with him, but also fuck that. He knew exactly what he was doing. I waited on the razor edge of my sanity for Rhys' answer. He wouldn't just ditch me for this dick, right?

“Uh, that's nice of you to offer, but?—”

“Rhys, come here for a minute!” Gran yelled out from behind us. Rhys looked at both of us nervously and I smiled softly to reassure him.

“I'm sorry, I'll be right back,” Rhys said, darting off to talk with Gran. I reluctantly turned back to the waste of space in front of me, and the disdainful look he was giving me said the feeling was mutual.

“So, do you go to UT with Rhys?” he asked, attempting to smile, but it came off more as a sneer.

“Yeah, we do.” I gave him my best smug smile. “It's been really great getting to see where Rhys grew up, and his Gran's been awesome. It's gonna be a busy week, that's for sure.” And there'll be no time for you, dickweed.

Connor's sneer-smile fell a bit and his gaze narrowed. “Well, I don't know how long you and Rhys have been friends, but we've been close for years. I'm pretty sure Rhys will make time for me. He always has,” he provoked. The way he said “friends” had my spine stiffening and I bit back a growl. It was obvious he thought Rhys would roll over for him, but that shit wasn't going to fly with me.

“I would say we're a bit more than just friends,” I retorted. “And I wouldn't be so sure about that since we both know you haven't always made time for him. Funny seeing as how the two of you were so…close.”

His brows pinched together and anger sparked in his eyes. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“From what I've heard, you ditched Rhys for a hot piece of tail over a year ago, ghosted him and everything. Plus I know you treated him like your hidden mistress while you two were fucking around in high school. You even took a girl to prom over him even though you were doing the backdoor boogie together. I mean, you were seriously committed to the whole “doesn't mean I'm gay” cliché, weren't you?” I scoffed, letting the sick satisfaction of pissing him off roll over me.

“You don't know shit about me and Rhys,” he bit out.

“I know more than you think. I'm also curious how he managed to be bullied repeatedly if you were supposedly so damn close with him,” I pondered aloud. It was a suspicion that had been flickering in the back of my mind for a while, particularly after hearing about Rhys' prom night.

Connor flushed a deep red, his angular jaw clenching so tight I could practically hear his teeth grinding. I pushed on without giving him a chance to respond.

“See, I think you didn't care about Rhys quite as much as he thought you did. He was probably so hung up on you that he'd forgive you anything, even leaving him to be targeted by shitheads at school. Did you ever stand up for him? Did you ever once try to stop it? Or did you really not see how broken and alone he was?” Every word I spit at him had my rage bubbling a little more, wanting to hurt him for not being the best friend Rhys needed back then. Someone who would protect him, cherish him, help put him back together. The kind of someone I was desperately working to be for him now.

“I didn't fucking know how bad it was. Rhys kept it to himself, and he seemed fine,” Connor snapped, but I could hear the undercurrent of nerves. “And don't you dare say I didn't care about him! You don't fucking know how I feel about Rhys or anything that went on between us. Also he didn't give any indication you two are boyfriends. Seems to me like you're just a fuck buddy, if you're even that, so who are you to judge?”

His jab hit its intended target because I couldn't argue that fact. Despite what I secretly wished, it didn't feel right lying about what Rhys and I were to each other. I honestly couldn't afford any more bad karma where he was concerned.

“What we are is none of your business. The only reason your history with Rhys is mine is because he is my business. By the way, where is this cute little girlfriend I heard about? She must really be something for you to toss Rhys overboard and fuck up years of friendship. I'm not one to complain about that though seeing as how I greatly benefited from your shitty decision,” I replied, shooting him a wink. I realized I was being a monumental dick, but oh fucking well. I never claimed to be a saint.

My last remark seemed to dig right under his skin. He stepped closer, only several inches separating us. His nostrils flared and I fought to keep my features unaffected.

“She's in the category that's none of your business,” he snarled. “And don't forget who Rhys' first love was. You know what they say, you never forget your first and Rhys won't forget me. When he gets over you, which I have no doubt he will, I'll find my way back in. Enjoy it while you can.”

His eyes flicked over my shoulder and I sensed Rhys behind me before he appeared back at my side.

“Hey, sorry about that. Everything alright?” he asked, gaze flitting between us worriedly.

On reflex, I ran my hand over his back in a soothing motion and he shuddered under my fingertips. I loved how my touch still affected him, no matter what barriers he tried to hold between us. My blood was still pumping wildly with fury at Connor's assertion that Rhys would somehow go back to him. And his belief that he was Rhys' first love made me want to deck his balls with boughs of poison ivy. That'd be nice and festive, right? But I didn't want to upset Rhys, so I gave him a tight smile.

“Absolutely. We were just chatting. You ready to head back home?” I asked, trying like hell not to grin when I noticed Connor bristling at the mention of us going home together.

“Actually Rhys, do you mind if I talk to you really fast?” Connor rushed out, glancing at me for a second. “Privately?”

Over your dead and buried body, motherfucker.

“ Umm, sure? Is that okay, Cal?” Rhys asked. My stomach soured at his answer. My instinct screamed at me to haul him over my shoulder and carry him far away from this rejected Chris Pratt clone, but that wouldn't win me any points with him. Contrary to what every cell in my body told me, Rhys didn't belong to me. I couldn't stop him from talking to his…old friend. Granted that friend wanted back in his pants, but it didn't change the facts.

“Yeah. No problem,” I muttered. Connor's shit-eating grin fueled my ire, but I was frozen in place as he slid a hand up Rhys' back and led him away. Dark images of shattering that hand and making him do a handstand on it filled my head, and I gave zero fucks if that made me a monster. He was touching Rhys.

My. Rhys .

However, if he was ever going to truly be mine, I had to start earning him. Trusting him with his ex was part of that. There was always a risk I could lose him to Connor, but I had been fortunate enough not to lose him any of the other dozen times I screwed up. Against all odds, Rhys had forgiven this villain and gave me a chance to rewrite our ending. I hoped with everything I had that my luck would hold out.

But when I saw Rhys grab Connor's hand and squeeze it tightly, eliciting a smile from that prick, I recalled one very important thing.

Villains like me didn't belong with beautiful souls like him and we sure as hell didn't get happy endings.