Sometimes Moments (Sometimes Moments, #1)(28)

“Peyton, are you all right?” Callum shouted over the sound of thunder.

Her eyebrows furrowed and she groaned. “I’m just waiting to be struck by lightning. It shouldn’t be long now!” she yelled as she tipped her head back and closed her eyes.

“I swear to God, Peyton. If you have a window open, I’m coming in there!”

Her fingers tapped against the tub. Then she turned her head and stared at the wooden door. “Anything to see me naked. You’re such a pervert, Callum.”

She sat quietly, waiting for him to reply, but he didn’t. She didn’t hear his footsteps disappearing either, so she knew that he was still there. More minutes passed as the water in the tub started to cool.

Pulling her leg up from the water, she noticed that her toes had wrinkled, but she didn’t mind. She submerged her leg back in the water and waited. It seemed she had always being waiting for Callum.

“I almost came back, you know,” Callum said from behind the bathroom door.

Peyton kept quiet and looked at the soapy water.

“I got to the wooden ‘welcome’ sign and I parked my car on the side of the road. I sat there for an hour deciding whether or not I should see you. I’ve done that almost trip about six times, Peyton. And each of those trips, I turned around and went back to the city. At least once a year, I came back to that part of the highway. Why it’s so different now is because I made it past the sign. This time, the need to see you outweighed the consequences I’d be facing.”

The sadness in his voice caused the ache in her heart to rise to her throat. Tears silently slid down her face. Because she, too, had made it to that sign. She had parked her Volkswagen Golf in the middle of the highway and stared out in the direction of the city. But in the end, she had always done a U-turn back to town.

Peyton silently got out of the tub and reached for the towel on the counter. Not wiping the bubbles that slid down her body, she wrapped the cotton towel around her. She knew what she had to do next.

Ignoring the flung blanket on the bathroom floor, Peyton walked towards the door. She took a deep breath in attempt to settle her anxious heart. With a hard swallow, she turned the knob and pulled the door open. Then she looked down to see Callum sitting on the carpet, his back to her.

“You’re forgiven,” she whispered.

Callum quickly looked up, his sad voice from before mirroring the sorrow that consumed his eyes. He looked at her in bewilderment, and Peyton gave him a restrained smile. If he really had almost come back, then she had to send him away.

“I’m what?” Callum asked, quickly getting on his feet.

Her eyes met his, hoping he’d believe her and hoping what she’d say would be enough for him to leave town. “I forgive you, Callum. I’m not angry at you anymore.”

“Just like that?”

Peyton nodded. “Just like that,” she said before she pushed past him and walked down the hallway, towards her bedroom.

“Bullshit,” he said, stopping her.

Peyton balled her fists tight before she turned around.

Callum’s facial features tensed and his nose flared. “I call bullshit.”

“You got what you wanted, Callum. You have my forgiveness. You can go home now. I’ll see you at the wedding,” she said casually.

Her hopes of him believing what she said were dashed when he marched towards her and stared her down.

“No, you’re lying. I don’t have your forgiveness. I can see it. You’re still hurt. I haven’t earned it. I want to earn it, Peyton. I need to redeem myself. Nothing I have done has been worthy enough of you.”

In that one moment, she saw it. A flash of the first night he’d kissed her, the same unsure and afraid eyes. Somehow, she was stuck between the past and present, and it completely terrified her.

“Do you want my forgiveness or not?” she asked, tired.

Callum sighed and he shook his head. “Not like this, Peyton.”

“Then how?” she asked desperately.

“Spend some time together. Have moments together… I don’t know, Peyton. I just need to be around you. I need to make it all up to you,” Callum revealed.

Before she could tell him how absurd it sounded, a loud crash of thunder violently thrashed and the hallway light flickered once before the house darkened. The moment she couldn’t see Callum’s face, she let out a heavy sigh.

“I’ll find candles,” he said.

She felt him walk past her, his arm grazing hers. “They’re—”

“Last drawer in the kitchen,” he said, cutting her off.

“How’d you know that?” she asked, turning around.

“Your house hasn’t changed, Peyton. Everything is in the same spot. It’s like you preserved this house to be the exactly how your parents left it. Get dressed and I’ll make you something to eat,” Callum said. His footsteps could be heard in the kitchen.

“Let it contain rat poison, please,” she softly begged.



Peyton pulled open a drawer and rummaged through it. The almost black room made it difficult for her to find anything. After raking around, she pulled out a pair of lacy underwear. Peyton held them up to the small amount of light coming from the window and the sight confirmed what she held.

Lace.

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to find something in the grandmother department—especially with that pervert in the kitchen.”