Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
It was like it was a stopping point.
“How long have you been here?” I asked before he could answer my last question.
“This flat? Two years. And I brought you here because I wanted to be able to talk and actually hear you.”
In the glaring artificial light, I could see now that his sleeve tattoo was blackwork, where larger areas of black ink made for dramatic effect. Whoever his artist was, they were talented. The art was amazing.
I took a step forward, peering at it.
The short sleeve of his T-shirt hid part on his shoulder, but I could make out what looked like the bottom of a woman’s face. The branches of a graphic-style tree touched her chin as it blossomed across his biceps. The roots of the tree morphed below it into stunning roses and thistles, and embedded in the petals was half the face of a clock with roman numerals. I couldn’t make out what time it was at.
Curiosity plagued me.
Knowing Lewis, every inch of his sleeve of tattoos held meaning.
Lewis lifted his arm, seeing my perusal. “It took five three-hour sessions.”
“It’s beautiful,” I answered honestly. “Do you have more?”
He nodded. “Got my first tattoo a few months after … well, after I left. It’s a take on the Adair coat of arms.”
“Loyal Au Mort,” I said, remembering their clan motto meant Faithful unto Death. The thought made me snort. “Guess some things are hard to live up to.”
His expression clouded as he crossed his arms over his chest, defensively. “Is that a dig?”
Pretending to be unaffected by his indignation, I shook my head, glancing casually around his personality-less apartment. “Merely the truth.”
“You wouldn’t know what the truth was if it bit you on the arse, Callie Ironside.”
“Rewriting history, Lewis?” I kept my tone casual as I wandered around the small space, my heels clicking on his hardwood floor. My calm indifference seemed to bother him, and I could admit I took a sadistic pleasure in pissing him off.
In the early days of our friendship, we’d actually fought a lot. We were super competitive with each other. However, I always thought that was because we instinctually trusted we could be that way with each other and not have it break us. I never thought anything could break us. That was our problem in the end. I’d thought that, while Lewis had known better.
I’d loved him more than he’d ever loved me, and I hadn’t wanted to stand in his way of making the life he wanted for himself.
“Nope.” He watched me as I trailed my hands over a sideboard where he kept a record player—the only thing in the room so far that really spoke to this being Lewis’s home. He’d been a huge music lover and had introduced me to so many artists from all eras. “I remember exactly how we ended.”
“Is that why you brought me here? So we could rehash what doesn’t need to be rehashed?”
“If it didn’t, you wouldn’t have fled the club, fled me.”
I stopped to face him. “I didn’t flee you. I’m not a clubber. You know that.” Give me a quiet pub and a live band over a nightclub any day of the week.
“Was he?”
I scowled. “Who?”
“The French bloke you left back in Paris.”
Discomfort shifted through me. “You don’t really want to talk about our exes, do you?”
“Did you love him?” Lewis asked hoarsely.
The vulnerability in his question gave me pause. I stared at him, trying desperately to understand why his expression was so tight, so pained. “Why would you care if I did or didn’t?”
Lewis huffed, turning away from me in frustration. “I’m not the one rewriting history, apparently.”
“Can we not do this?”
He whirled around, his blue eyes flashing. “I thought you went to Paris and weren’t coming back. After everything … I thought you’d left Ardnoch after all. For him.”
Oh.
He thought after our breakup, I’d become a hypocrite. That I’d done something for someone else that I couldn’t do for him.
In a way, I had. “I left Ardnoch for me. But it was never permanent. I didn’t lie when I said it would always be my home, where I wanted to live my life. But I’m glad I spent those years in Paris and traveled a bit. I never didn’t want to travel, Lewis. I just didn’t want to leave everything behind that meant something to me. You can’t say the same.”
Lewis stepped toward me. “That’s not what I did.”
“Really.” I shrugged. “Because it sure felt like it at the time.”
Eight
CALLIE
SEVEN YEARS AGO
Excitement buzzed through me as I strolled to Fyfe’s small house. It was only a five-minute walk from mine, and I knew Lewis was there this afternoon. I couldn’t wait to tell him about Ina Urwin’s flat. It was a small studio off Castle Street, but it would be perfect for us as a starter place. We had discussed finding somewhere between Ardnoch and Inverness to simplify Lewis’s commute, and we could still do that. But Ina’s flat was so cute and just a hop, skip, and a jump from the bakery.