Kiss the Sky (Calloway Sisters #1)(32)

He grins into a bright laugh, his teeth almost too gorgeous to stare at. He wrestles me back to the mattress, and he kisses my cheek. “But don’t you want a son and daughter to succeed you,” he asks, “to raise them as your own, to know that your legacy will still remain long, long after you’re gone?”

“It’s still all about you,” I say, understanding completely now. “Could you even love your children?”

His smile fades again, and he becomes impassive, poker-faced. “I’d love them.”

I wish, more than anything, he wouldn’t try to lie to me. That angers me more than hearing the truth. “You only love yourself.”

“I love you.” He’s practically mocking me.

I push him up again, and I rise to my knees. My lips find his ear, my voice hot and cold all at once. “I don’t believe you.” I scoot to the edge of the bed, to climb off. He catches my arm again.

“I meant what I said,” he tells me seriously, “before you brought love into the equation.”

“That’s the thing, Connor.” I untangle from him. “Love should always be in the equation when children are involved. You’re just lucky I don’t hold that stipulation.” I step off the bed and straighten my nightgown.

“Where are you going?” he asks, worry creasing his brows. We fight often. And we make up even more. It’s not as though my storming off is out of the ordinary.

“To take a shower.”

“It’s five in the morning. Come back to bed.”

“No,” I say. “I want to shower before anyone comes into the bathroom.” I head towards the door.

“Rose…” He starts but he stops himself before he gets that far.

I feel like I’m eighteen again.

And Connor’s that nineteen-year-old boy who lent me his college blazer.

I wait for him to speak, but like back then, he just stares at me with those deep austere eyes, with shadows of the truth hidden behind pools of blue.

So I say, “I don’t mind that you don’t love me the way I do you.” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Thank you for at least trying.”

And I leave.

But he knows I’ll be back.

In nearly ten years of knowing Connor, we always seem to return to each other—even when we were thousands of miles apart, on two separate planes of existence—even when it seemed like our futures had strayed.

He may not believe in fate, but I do.

And I know I’m fated to be with him.





CHAPTER 12





ROSE CALLOWAY





5 months and 10 days – Mom

I slip my cell in my purse, about to head to the Calloway Couture offices. Savannah stays close by my side with the camera hovering. As soon as I head towards the door, it whips open and Daisy walks in with her white motorcycle helmet beneath her arm.

“Hey, Rose.” She sets the helmet on the leather couch and twists her long blonde hair in a loose bun atop her head.

But she’s not alone. Brett enters with his steadicam, and Ryke shuts the door behind them, his black helmet dangling in his hand. Ryke slumps down on the couch and runs his fingers through his thick tousled hair.

“Good, I caught you,” I tell Daisy, deserting my plans for a second. “I want to give you something before I forget.” I should really get Lily in the living room too. But she’s much harder to wrangle. “Stay here.” I head to the hall closet and return with a shopping bag.

Before I pass her the bag, I notice the way Ryke and Daisy share furtive glances. She shakes her head at him, and he grits his teeth, his jaw locking into hard-cut lines.

“Is everything okay?” I ask with a little edge. I don’t like being out of the loop. If it involves my sisters, I want to be in the center fucking circle.

“Perfect,” Daisy says with a bright smile. I don’t believe her, and I have a suspicion Ryke wants to come clean since he shakes his head now. She grabs the bag out of my hand to distract me.

I let the issue go, only because I can’t prod today. I need to get work done at my office, and if I dwell on my little sister, I’ll worry until someone spills the truth. It’s probably not that bad anyway. I’m sure she just sped down the highway on her Ducati and almost got herself killed. In Daisy Calloway’s adrenaline-fueled world, that situation is like the sun rising and setting.

“Ooh,” she says. “Which one is mine, the tie-dye or the leopard-print?”

Ryke frowns. “What the fuck did you get her?”

I shoot him a glare. “Not whatever you’re thinking.”

“Panties,” Daisy tells him.

“That’s exactly what I was fucking thinking.”

She smiles. “I know.” And she pulls out a plastic package that does not contain panties. “Pepper spray.” She glances at me. “I think I’ll take this one.” She holds the tie-dye package.

“Since you and Lily have given up your bodyguards for the show, I thought it would be a good idea to have some sort of protection.” In order to film, Scott had a proviso that Daisy and Lily ditch their bodyguards, who had been keeping them safe from paparazzi after we went from anonymity to celebrity. “I also signed us up for a self-defense class.”