Redeeming (Red Lips & White Lies Book 2)

Don’t announce your next moves.

Just make the damn move and smile because you knew you could.

—Caitlin’s Secret Thoughts

Isit at the dining room table, opposite Lilah Ryan, pulling together mood boards we started working on yesterday. We’re nowhere near done, but for something with this scope, we need so much more prep than anything I’ve ever done before. Fabric samples are scattered across the table, with different boards sitting on different chairs around the room.

Shades of purples and pinks and silvers and greens.

Satins.

Silks.

Leather.

And crystals. So many crystals.

“What about this?” The beautiful blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl next door who stole the hearts of the world at sixteen when the rest of us were busy crushing on the cute boy . . . My cute boy was her uncle, but anyway, that girl holds up a pretty piece of grape chiffon. “What if we layer this over a lighter color? Would that be pretty?”

She stands and spins. “The skirt would need to be big and flare out around my legs like a ball gown made of butterfly wings.”

“Holy shit, if you start talking about unicorns, I’m done,” I joke, and she bites her lip.

“Sorry. I just want it to be magical. The whole show.” She sits back down and lowers her voice. “It’s going to be the last one I do for a while.”

“Okay, well magical I can help with. Write down butterfly wings as inspiration. I have an idea.” I go searching through some old sketches, looking for something I worked on last spring as I hear her humming a pretty song. Something I don’t recognize.

The dogs bark and run for the door seconds before it opens and Callen walks in the condo. I hear him talking to them and smile as I call out, “Hey, Callen. I’m in the dining room with Lilah.”

If we don’t want this to go public just yet, I need to make sure he doesn’t walk in here naked to bend me over the table.

My God, that sounds like fun, and I have the perfect dress.

I wonder how high my heels would have to be for that to work.

“Callen’s home?” Lilah asks. “What about Maddox and Killian?”

“Callen had practice earlier, but that should have been him that just came in. Maddox and Killer are in Vegas for some MMA thing. And Bellamy is visiting her mom in Maine.” I move around the table to peer into the hall but don’t see him.

“Oh.” She puts the fabric down and looks around the room. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to take over your dining room. I should probably get going.”

“It’s not a problem at all. I like working from home, and I’m really excited for this project. It’s going to be amazing. I can’t wait to see the show.” I smile and close my binder. “Are you going to kick it off in Kings stadium?”

“No. I think they’ve got me scheduled in Europe first. I’ll finish it up in the US.” She moves around the table and hugs me, and I try not to stand there stiff as a board. I’m not exactly the biggest hugger. Bellamy likes to tease that I’m broken. “Thank you so much, Caitlin. I really appreciate this.”

“Lilah, you could have any designer dress you. It makes sense to let your cousin do it, but for me to be a part of it . . .” Emotion wells, and I have to force the words out just to control the quiver threatening. “Thank you for trusting me. I’m honored.”

“Listen, I’ve seen your work. It’s beautiful. And the way you’ve been styling everyone—perfection. Seriously. I’d love to maybe talk about that if you have time. But I don’t want to ask too much⁠—”

“I have time. I’ve got plenty of time. You let me know what you need and when, and I’m there.” Holy shit. I’m going to style one of the biggest stars in the world. We may have grown up in the same world, but we weren’t close, and this is a big damn deal for me.

She grabs her phone from the table and shoots off a text.

“Yes. That’s perfect. Let’s get something on the schedule. I just sent you my calendar. I’ve got to go, but we’ll talk tomorrow.” I follow her into the hall and watch as she squats down to give each dog a little love. I swear you can tell whether a person is worth anything at all by the way they treat animals, and Lilah treats them like they’re tiny humans.

“You’ve got a flaw, right?” I ask before my filter can catch it.

Who am I kidding? I don’t have a filter most days.

“What?” She straightens, confused.

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

“I’m not perfect, Cait. That’s just my brand. Perfect and pure like the driven snow. It’s exhausting but worth it.”

“Sorry,” I mutter, only slightly mortified.

She plays with the braided bracelet on her wrist, like it’s a nervous habit. “I like to be a good person, but being a good person is never going to be enough. I’m never going to please everyone. I gave up trying a few years ago.”

“I can see how that could take a toll . . .” I know I couldn’t do it.

“And if you want a flaw, I hate coffee. But if you ever tell anyone that, I’ll deny it. Apparently, hating coffee is un-American.”

I stand there, shocked. “Your mom is the biggest coffee freak I’ve ever met.”

“Yup. And one of her favorite brands is one of my biggest sponsors. Talk about a giant flaw.” She opens my front door and smiles at me. “See you soon, Cait.”

I lock the door behind her and jump at the sound of Callen’s voice.

“She curses like a trucker too. Bet her fans would love to know that.”

I turn and find him showered and changed into a pair of navy-blue sweats and a gray tee. His eyes are heavy and hollow as he leans his shoulder against the door frame. Shit. “How did things go with your dad?”

He doesn’t move. Not an inch as I go to him and run my hands over his chest.

“Stage two. Treatable. Fightable. Never gonna be something that’s curable. But it’s something he could live a long life with. Would have been very different if it was stage three.” He cups my shoulders and closes his eyes. “He’s got a fight ahead of him, but Dad’s always been a fighter.”

“He’s going to be okay, Callen.” I echo back, not sure how to make any of this better for him but desperate to try.

“Yeah . . .” He shakes his head, and that’s when I see it.

The resignation in his eyes.

And it guts me.

“Caitlin . . .”

“Don’t, Callen.” I rest two fingers against his lips as my heart breaks. “I’ve had a really good day, and I’m not ready to think about Maddox or any of the possible issues between us. I just want to be us tonight.”

With exhausted eyes half-closed, he kisses the tips of my fingers. “I’m so tired, Caitie.”

Caitie . . .

“Then let’s go to bed.” I take his hand in mine and lead him upstairs, past my room and into his. “Sit down, Callen.” I push him back until he sits on the bed and watches me strip out of my clothes.

I can feel his eyes on me like he’s touching my skin.

Like this is the last time he’s touching my skin.

“You’re exhausted.” I grab one of his tees and slide it over my body and breathe in the smell of Callen as it surrounds me, then climb onto his lap and cup his face in my hands. “Was practice okay? Are you ready for the game tomorrow?”

“I doubt I’ll play tomorrow,” he groans and closes his eyes and drops his chin to his chest as I massage his tight muscles. “That feels good.”

“Let me take care of you, Callen.” I want to cry because it all feels so wrong. And maybe it’s me. Maybe it’s what’s going on with Coach and I’m making it about myself, but there’s been a seismic shift between this morning and now.

Something is wrong. I know it, even if I’m too scared to push for answers.

Instead, I kiss the top of his head and lay him down before I climb into his arms and rest my head on his chest.

We don’t speak for the longest time.

Just lie there in the silence as I cling to him.

Feeling him slipping away.

Losing my nerve minute by minute.

Second by second.

Breath by jagged breath.

“I love you, Callen . . .”

“Cait—”

“Don’t. Not tonight. Don’t tell me whatever you’re about to say. Please . . .” I beg, and I’m not proud, but I’ll own it. I don’t want to hear whatever he’s thinking. “Just sleep tonight. The world might look different in the morning.”

Callen never says another word.

He holds me all night like a lifeline.

I’m not sure he ever actually sleeps.

And I’m fairly certain, hours later, once he thinks I’m asleep, he presses his lips to the top of my head. “I love you, Caitlin. Only you. Only ever you. I promise . . . I’m sorry.”

I wake up to an empty bed and cold sheets the next morning, and my heart sinks.

I’d hoped last night was a dream. That I’d been wrong. But then I remember his words whispered in the darkness, and I know they were real. They were a goodbye.

I stifle a sob and get out of bed, half expecting to be alone in the condo. For Callen to have snuck out like a thief in the night, but I guess that’s hard to do when this is your home. Instead, I find Callen in the kitchen, dressed and nursing a cup of coffee. He doesn’t look up when I walk in.

“Morning . . .” I mumble as I make a cup of coffee, certain caffeine is going to be required to deal with whatever bullshit Callen is about to sling my way.

He looks up from the iPad in front of him, and I suck in a breath.

He looks awful.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” I reach out to run my fingers along his face, but Callen catches my hand in his, stopping me.

“I’m moving out, Caitlin.” His voice is cold and scratched and utterly emotionless.

“What?” I gasp and drop my coffee to the table. “You can’t be serious.”

He lets go of my hand and wipes up my spilled coffee with his napkin like he didn’t just take my heart and smash it into a million tiny, jagged pieces. “I’m taking over Cooper’s old place. It’s already furnished, so I’m going to take my stuff over there today.”

“Callen . . . If you need to tell Maddox now, fine. Do it. You don’t need to move out.” I know I’m grasping at straws, but I’ve got to grasp at something.

He scrubs his face with his hands and shoves back from the table, scaring the shit out of me when he pulls away from me. “It’s not him, Cait. It’s us. It’s this. We don’t work. We shouldn’t have happened.”

“No,” I snap through angry tears. “You promised. We’re not a mistake, Callen.”

His shoulders drop for a single second, and I think I might get an actual answer before his shields go right back up. “We are, Caitlin. This shouldn’t have happened, and it can’t happen again. This is what’s best.”

I shove his chest with all my strength. “Best for who? Because it’s not what’s best for me, and I don’t think it’s best for you either.”

He shutters his dark green eyes, hiding the anger that’s staring back at me.

“Tell me what I did. Why are you mad?” I shove him again when he stays silent, and I scream for both of us. “Give me a goddamned answer, Callen. You owe me that.”

When I lift my hand to shove him again, he catches my wrist. “You have an answer. You just don’t like it. We were a mistake. We can’t happen. I get it if you want to tell Maddox about us, and I’ll take the fucking blame. But Cait . . . this was a mistake.”

He drops my hand, and the look of utter contempt on his face scares me.

“You don’t love me, Caitie. You love the idea of me. You deserve someone who loves you, and that’s not me.” He nails my coffin closed and picks up a bag from the floor I hadn’t seen before, then walks out without another word.

I hurl my coffee cup across the room as a feral scream rips from my throat before I collapse on the floor, irrevocably broken.