Page 32 of Chasing Callie

“I got it,” I mutter, trying to take control of the entire thing.

He doesn’t let go. “I’m trying to help.”

We stretch it over the table in tense silence. When I adjust it to make it perfectly centered, Knox deliberately shifts his side an inch to the left. Now it’s crooked. I narrow my eyes, centering it again. He moves to mess it up again, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“Knox Williams, don’t you fucking dare.” The words come out as a dangerous growl.

A slow smirk spreads across his face like he’s won something. He circles the table, stepping into my space. My first instinct is to run, to put as much distance between us as possible, but his words from our last encounter echo in my head.

You can’t keep running.

I plant my feet, hands on my hips, and scowl up at him. He’s close enough that I can smell the faint scent of motor oil and pine that always clung to him. He’s trimmed his scruff since the last time I saw him, and I’ve never wanted to run my fingers through a beard until now.

“Well?” I snap, hating how my pulse races. Loathing how I still think he’s one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever met.

He sighs, looking me dead in the eye, his gaze shooting straight to my soul. “It wasn’t me.”

I know exactly what he’s talking about but pretend not to anyway. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re still a terrible liar. Penelope took my phone,” he says, searching my face. “I was passed out, and she took my phone and recorded that video. She’s the one who posted it.”

My heart skips, a spark of hope igniting that I desperately try to extinguish. I’m still too hurt to fully trust his words. “If you came here to give me some lame ass excuse⁠—”

“It’s not an excuse, Cal. It’s the truth.” His voice cracks with emotion. “Penelope posted the video. I never,” he swallows hard, “ever would have done something like that to you.” His gaze pleads with mine. “Come on, Callie, why would I do that?”

I shrug, wanting to believe him more than I care to admit. “I don’t know, maybe you were jealous.”

“I was,” he admits, surprising me. “I was jealous of them. That they got to have you and I never did. That you never wanted me like that. That—” he cuts off and takes a deep breath, eyes darkening. “I was jealous that they got to see parts of you I never did. The way you’d let your guard down around them. The way you’d curl up between them during movie nights.”

My mouth goes dry as he continues. I never curled up with him because I was always nervous. Unsettled by his intensity. A black hole that would swallow me whole if I got too close.

“I wanted it to be me. Not my brothers.”

“Let me get this straight,” I say, voice shaking a little. Knox wanted to be with me? Why did he date Penelope then? “Your bitchy girlfriend stole your phone, posted that video of me with your brothers on your socials? Why, Knox? Why would she do that?”

“Because she knew what you meant to me.”

The words steal my breath away, but they gut me at the same time. All I ever wanted was to mean something to him. “Then why didn’t I?” I whisper the question.

His eyes bore into mine. “I was terrified to lose you.” Swallowing, he starts to say more, confessions I don’t know that I can handle. I hold up my hand, too emotional to hear another word.

“Please don’t,” I whisper. My throat burns with a complicated mix of hurt, relief, and fear that he’s lying. I blink rapidly, desperate not to cry in front of him. “You need to go.”

“Callie.” The desperation in his tone tugs at my heart strings.

But I’ve spent too long being mad to let it go in a blink. I don’t even know if I can trust him. He reaches for me and my heart leaps into my throat. I recoil as if he struck me. He frowns, seeing too much. I can’t take these confessions and him being protective of me right now.

“Please go, Knox,” I beg, stepping away as a fat tear tracks down my cheek. Dammit. I swore a long time ago that I wouldn’t give Knox Williams any more of my tears.

He rears back at the sight as if it physically pains him. His shoulders slump, and he backs away as Mom returns, her timing too convenient. She probably listened in on the whole conversation.

“You better get going, Knox,” she says, shooting him a pointed look that only a mother can master.

He nods, casting one last glance at me before walking away, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

My focus shifts to Mom. “Did you know?” Is that why she’s not mad at him?

“He told me and your father a few years after you left.” She sighs and shakes her head. “But it’s not my place to apologize for him, and you weren’t ready to hear it.”