hold his
eyes. Bravery, she’d learned, wasn’t an innate strength, just the willingness
to face the fire and not care that it burned you alive. She smiled coyly, her
voice lifting. “How’s your wife?”
He dropped his chin bashfully.
“Um, yeah,” he said, lifting his gaze back up, smile
growing. “Have to admit I don’t know.” He paused for a single heartbeat, and
Indigo felt the world grow colder. “Fiona and I broke up this summer.”
“Oh, God,” she gasped, confidence torn away by unexpected
panic.
She turned, staring up the street, desperate for the flash
of yellow that would mark a cab. Her heart was thudding in her ears, knees
shaking.
“You need a ride home?” Cal asked quietly. Everything else they’d been was woven into the words.
He reached out, touching her shoulder, but Indigo sidled out
of his way, wrapping the shawl tightly around herself. She wasn’t ready for
this yet. Maybe not ever.
“Thanks, but no,” Indigo replied. “I’m waiting for a cab
now.”
“It’s cold out,” he insisted. “My car’s just up the street,
sweetheart. It’s no problem.”
“I said no!”
At that, Cal smiled, the skin around his eyes wrinkling the
way she loved. Indigo’s heart twisted. He always knew how to push her. How to
get her to do what he wanted even when she swore she was going to do the
opposite. This was no different.
“I’m sorry,” he said contritely, putting his hands into his
pockets. “I know how… independent you are.”
She nodded, not answering. A yellow and black cab appeared
at the end of the block, and Indigo stepped toward the curb. Like a dancer, Cal
moved back in front of her, blocking her view.
“I’m sorry about how things ended, Indigo,” he said softly.
“I had hoped that we could stay friends.”
Her attention jerked back to his face, calm scattering. She
couldn’t pretend when he was staring at her like this, all the unravelled hopes
of the two of them, rekindled in his eyes.
“You were the one who ended things,” she hissed. “Not me!”
He reached out, brushing a strand of hair off her face.
Indigo’s breath coming in shallow gasps, desperate to escape. ‘From him…
from myself…’ When he touched her she wanted to say yes.
“I needed some time to think about things for a while,” he
said. “What you told me just took me by surprise.”
His smile faltered, his hand falling back to his side, and
for just a second, Indigo wanted to comfort him . She swallowed hard,
throat aching. This was the part of Callum Woodrow she could never
manage. The man who made her feel things she swore she’d never allow.
“I still think about you sometimes,” Cal said gently. “About
us…”
A flash of yellow appeared, and Indigo stepped straight off
the sideway into the street, waving frantically. The cab pulled to a screeching
stop, the car behind it slamming on the horn.
Indigo had her hand on the door handle before Cal caught
her.
“Indigo, I want to talk,” he said, taking hold of her upper
arm. “I think you and I could—
She spun around, tearing from his grip.
“Just stop!” she gasped. “It’s done! We’re done!”
Behind Cal on the sidewalk, Jude appeared. Catching sight of
Indigo, he jogged forward, concern sharpening the lines of his face.
“Sweetheart, listen,” Cal said, taking hold of her fingers,
his hand warm where hers was cold. “I’m so sorry for—”
“Let go of me!” she cried, voice breaking.
The cab’s window rolled down, the man inside, staring out at
them in concern.
“This man bothering you, ma’am?”
Indigo ripped her hand out of Cal’s just as Jude jogged
forward.
“Hey!” Jude barked. “Back off, man!”
For a half-second, Indigo was relieved, but then Cal turned.
Jude’s face blanched. “Professor Woodrow?”
Indigo wrenched open the door of the cab, climbing inside
before anyone could stop her. She could hear Jude talking, and Cal answering in
that arrogant, easy-going tone he
eyes. Bravery, she’d learned, wasn’t an innate strength, just the willingness
to face the fire and not care that it burned you alive. She smiled coyly, her
voice lifting. “How’s your wife?”
He dropped his chin bashfully.
“Um, yeah,” he said, lifting his gaze back up, smile
growing. “Have to admit I don’t know.” He paused for a single heartbeat, and
Indigo felt the world grow colder. “Fiona and I broke up this summer.”
“Oh, God,” she gasped, confidence torn away by unexpected
panic.
She turned, staring up the street, desperate for the flash
of yellow that would mark a cab. Her heart was thudding in her ears, knees
shaking.
“You need a ride home?” Cal asked quietly. Everything else they’d been was woven into the words.
He reached out, touching her shoulder, but Indigo sidled out
of his way, wrapping the shawl tightly around herself. She wasn’t ready for
this yet. Maybe not ever.
“Thanks, but no,” Indigo replied. “I’m waiting for a cab
now.”
“It’s cold out,” he insisted. “My car’s just up the street,
sweetheart. It’s no problem.”
“I said no!”
At that, Cal smiled, the skin around his eyes wrinkling the
way she loved. Indigo’s heart twisted. He always knew how to push her. How to
get her to do what he wanted even when she swore she was going to do the
opposite. This was no different.
“I’m sorry,” he said contritely, putting his hands into his
pockets. “I know how… independent you are.”
She nodded, not answering. A yellow and black cab appeared
at the end of the block, and Indigo stepped toward the curb. Like a dancer, Cal
moved back in front of her, blocking her view.
“I’m sorry about how things ended, Indigo,” he said softly.
“I had hoped that we could stay friends.”
Her attention jerked back to his face, calm scattering. She
couldn’t pretend when he was staring at her like this, all the unravelled hopes
of the two of them, rekindled in his eyes.
“You were the one who ended things,” she hissed. “Not me!”
He reached out, brushing a strand of hair off her face.
Indigo’s breath coming in shallow gasps, desperate to escape. ‘From him…
from myself…’ When he touched her she wanted to say yes.
“I needed some time to think about things for a while,” he
said. “What you told me just took me by surprise.”
His smile faltered, his hand falling back to his side, and
for just a second, Indigo wanted to comfort him . She swallowed hard,
throat aching. This was the part of Callum Woodrow she could never
manage. The man who made her feel things she swore she’d never allow.
“I still think about you sometimes,” Cal said gently. “About
us…”
A flash of yellow appeared, and Indigo stepped straight off
the sideway into the street, waving frantically. The cab pulled to a screeching
stop, the car behind it slamming on the horn.
Indigo had her hand on the door handle before Cal caught
her.
“Indigo, I want to talk,” he said, taking hold of her upper
arm. “I think you and I could—
She spun around, tearing from his grip.
“Just stop!” she gasped. “It’s done! We’re done!”
Behind Cal on the sidewalk, Jude appeared. Catching sight of
Indigo, he jogged forward, concern sharpening the lines of his face.
“Sweetheart, listen,” Cal said, taking hold of her fingers,
his hand warm where hers was cold. “I’m so sorry for—”
“Let go of me!” she cried, voice breaking.
The cab’s window rolled down, the man inside, staring out at
them in concern.
“This man bothering you, ma’am?”
Indigo ripped her hand out of Cal’s just as Jude jogged
forward.
“Hey!” Jude barked. “Back off, man!”
For a half-second, Indigo was relieved, but then Cal turned.
Jude’s face blanched. “Professor Woodrow?”
Indigo wrenched open the door of the cab, climbing inside
before anyone could stop her. She could hear Jude talking, and Cal answering in
that arrogant, easy-going tone he
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