**Callen’s POV **
I find Remy where I knew I would.
Not far into the woods, just beyond the clearing where we used to meet up to be alone. He’s sitting on a fallen tree, elbows on his knees, head down. The hoodie he wore earlier is bunched around his arms, <b>like </b>
he pulled it off in frustration.
He doesn’t turn when I approach, but I know he hears me.
“Don’t,” he says, voice hoarse. “I’m not in the mood.<b>” </b>
I ignore that and sit beside him anyway, far enough to give him space, close enough to make sure he
knows I want to be near him.
There’s a heavy silence for a moment before he exhales and gets to his feet.
I look up at him, his eyes bloodshot and raw. Has he slept at all?
He opens his mouth as if about to say something, then thinks better of it and turns away, walking with purpose back towards the house.
ssic Remy… fight or flight, there’s no in between with him.
I catch up to him just before the tree line thins out near the cabin.
He slows when he hears me, shoulders tense, like he’s deciding whether to bolt or turn and throw a punch,
but this time, I don’t give him the option.
I grab his arm and spin him toward me, crowding into his space, backing him until his spine hits the rough bark of the nearest tree. He gasps, surprised, but he doesn’t push me off.
I breathe in his scent like I’m drowning and he is the only air I need. It floods my senses, sweet, smoky and
something uniquely Remy.
I step closer. He’s breathing hard now, like I’ve knocked the wind out of him. His warm breath ghosts over
my lips like a taunt or an invitation.
“Callen,” he warns, but there’s no heat in it. Just uncertainty.
“You don’t get to walk away from me,” I say, voice low. “Not after everything.”
“I’m not…
“You are,” I growl. “You’re <b>trying </b>to disappear <b>again</b>. You’re shutting down. And I’m done letting you.”
“You were the one that walked away, Callen,” he hisses. “You didn’t even give me a chance.”
His hands flex at his sides, jaw tight, lips parted like he’s holding something back.
So I kiss him.
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I kiss him so hard that his back hits the tree <b>again </b>with the <b>force </b>of it, and I don’t care. I want him to feel this. <b>I </b>need him to feel this, because I’ve loved him for too damn long to keep pretending I don’t.
At first, he freezes, still caught between questions and doubt. But then he breaks. He kisses me back like
he’s starved for it. Like this is the only <b>thing </b>keeping him upright.
One hand fists in my shirt, the other <b>digs </b>into my side.
I press harder, my hand curling around the back of his neck, thumb brushing the edge of his jaw. I don’t
hold back. I want him to know he’s wanted. That he’s still mine.
When we finally break apart, both of us breathing raggedly, his head thunks softly back against the tree..
“I hate you,” he whispers.
I huff a breath, pressing my forehead to his. “Liar.”
“Don’t stop,” he breathes.
“I won’t,” I promise. “Not unless you tell me to.”
He doesn’t.
That’s all the permission I need.
I kiss him again. Hard and hungry. It’s not gentle, not even a little. It’s messy, years of want and regret and
what–ifs spilling out in this single moment.
He kisses me back just as hungrily. I press him back against the tree, chest to chest, grinding myself against <b>him</b>. I want to feel the heat of him everywhere.
This isn’t a mistake<b>. </b>It can’t be. Not when it feels this good.
My hand slips beneath his shirt, brushing over warm, bare skin. He jolts like I’ve shocked him, his breath
stuttering in my mouth. His skin is hot and smooth, like velvet over muscle. I run my fingers along the line
of his ribs, loving the way he tenses, the way he melts for me.
I trail kisses down his jaw, then to his throat, tasting salt and heat and everything I crave from him.
Remy shudders, his fingers tightening in my shirt. His hands fumble at the hem, pushing it up and over my head. The air <b>is </b>cool against my skin, a harsh contrast to the heat of his touch. His palms roam over my chest like they’ve always belonged there.
Being with him like this feels like… likeing home. His touch doesn’t just burn, it sets me on fire.
My fingers grip his hip, tugging him closer, and he lets out this soft, broken sound that undoes something
in me
I want more. I need him. All of him. But not here, not like this.
I press my forehead to his again, catching my breath, but I don’t pull away.
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His eyes are ssy, lips red and kiss–swollen.
I don’t know where we go from here. How we navigate this with Paige in the picture now. I only know that my feelings for him are real. Right now, in <b>this </b>moment, he’s as real as her, and I need them both.
Maybe I should feel guilty. Maybe I should stop. But every time I look at him, all I feel is want. And hadn’t Paige practically given me permission? She told me to do whatever it takes, and this is what it takes to pull Remy from his dark ce. He needs love and eptance. He needs to know how much I want him,
how much I love him.
I kiss him again, slower this time, like I’m trying to say all the things I don’t have the guts to say out loud.
His hand curls around the back of my neck, keeping me close, like he’s scared I’ll vanish.
There’s silence between <b>us </b>for a while as we just hold each other, breathing together.
“She thinks I was messing with her<b>,</b><b>” </b>he breathes.
“I know,” I say quietly. “She told me.”
He drags a hand down my arm, fingers shaking slightly. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have
waited.”
“You shouldn’t have done it alone. I think she felt too vulnerable alone with you because she doesn’t know
you. She hasn’t seen the real you yet.”
He lets out a bitterugh. “Yeah. Stupid, right?”
“A little,” I say. “But also brave.”
“I was trying, Cal,” he says, and my heart nearly stops at the sound of my name on his lips like that. “For once, I was trying to be the guy you always saw in me.”
emotions.
“You don’t have to try to be anything,” I say. “You just need to be yourself and not let your the better of you.”
He turns his head away, jaw clenched. “You picked her. What reaction did you expect me to have?”
“I didn’t pick anyone.
“You kissed her. Slept with her.”
<b>I </b>don’t deny it.
“And you think that means I don’t love you?” I ask, admitting my real feelings for him out loud.
That gets him. His breath catches. His eyes find mine again, confused and desperate and so damn full of
ache.
“Remy,” I whisper. “You’re not second. I didn’t choose her over you because it’s not something
I can
choose. It’s fate. You know that. We both knew that this would happen from the start. We were just stupid to believe we could walk away with no one getting hurt when the time came. We can’t just turn it off like
4 Chapter 29
that.”
He flinches like I just hit him. “So now we just pretend it never happened? That we never happened<b>?” </b>
“No, I’m done pretending.” I say, hoping I’ve not mistaken what Paige had meant earlier.
I know she knows about me and Remy. She’s not stupid. She knows why Remy is acting the way he is towards me and her. Hell, she practically blurted it out in front of Parker.
“I can’tpete with her,” he says, his voice breaking.
“You don’t have to,” I say. “You never did. It’s not apetition, Rem.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not like you, Callen. I don’t know how to share the people I love.”
“You just let me love you, the rest will fall into ce.”
I
His breath hitches, and I see the war in his eyes. Hope and heartbreak.
“I don’t know how to make this work,” he admits.
“We’ll figure it out,” I whisper. “One step at a time.<b>” </b>
He nods, and I feel some of the weight start to lift from his shoulders.
“Will youe back to the house with me?” I <b>ask</b>. “Let’s tell them, all of them. I don’t want to hide us
anymore.”
“Parker already <b>knows</b><b>,</b>” he admits nervously.
“Since when?” I ask, surprised.
“I told him this morning,” he shrugs,
“But he said he’s always known.”
“Of course he did,” I halfugh.
“Then there’s just Ryder to tell, and then we can figure this whole thing out as a group.”
“You’re sure about this?” he asks, his vulnerability clear in his voice.
“I’ve never been more sure. Paige will ept us, Rem. They all will,” I insist, almost convincing myself with
how sure I sound.
“Okay,” he nods. “Then let’s go, but Parker is doing the school run with Regina. I want to wait for him before
we all talk.”
We walk back together, not touching, not speaking. But this time, he walks by my side, and he doesn’t look
like he’s about to run.
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