Chapter Thirty-Two

Calla

I had been in this inner war with myself for days now and it was making me crazy. My problem was that I felt the call of the wild. I wanted to head straight back to the mountains and never look back. Jake had left an ache in my heart, an ache that left me feeling like a lovesick zombie. I was a shell of a woman. I’d gone for a weekend out of town as one person and returned completely changed. Jake had done that.

It was him that I missed him, not just his dick, although, the emptiness inside me was partially because I had been without him filling me for too long. I did miss his heavy cock, so wet dreams and wild fantasies had become all I had to turn to.

Then there was Blake. God help me, the man had gone off the deep end and had me seriously questioning my mental status over the past couple of years. What the hell had I been thinking to hook up with the man in the first place? He was not only a selfish shithead, he was annoying as hell, and I was sick of him. Now that I had told him to get lost, he was hounding me and being completely insufferable.

“How’s it going dear?” My mother’s voice came through the phone loud and clear.

“Good, Mom. How are you guys enjoying the trip?” I asked her, trying my best to be polite, even though she had just interrupted me, again.

I heard her soft laugh. “It’s been lovely. Your father is having a great time. He wants to go out on some fishing boat.”

“Be careful. Wear your lifejacket,” I teased.

“Are you working, dear?”

“Yes. Trying.”

“Oh, why are you only trying?”

Biting my tongue, I considered my potential replies. I didn’t want to be rude, but the fact that she’d been calling every couple hours wasn’t exactly helping the writing process. “It’s Blake. He’s been hounding me ever since I got back.”

I heard her make a sound that sound like a choke and a grunt combined. “That man is no good for you, Calla. I hope you see that now. You could do so much better. You need a man who supports your career and makes you happy. Your father and I have never really cared for Blake,” she told me for about the hundredth time since I’d first started dating him.

“I know, Mom. I did tell him it was over, but you know men. They want what they can’t have.”

“That’s always the fun part,” she tittered. “Well, except for now. He can’t have you and needs to go away. Should I have your father talk to him?”

“No, Mom!”

“He will, dear. Sometimes men need a firm hand.”

I laughed. “Dad doesn’t exactly have a firm hand, and Blake wouldn’t listen to him anyway. I’ll take care of it. He’ll go away eventually. I need to get back to work, Mom. You guys have fun and I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Okay, take care and write lots!”

I hung up the phone, switched it to silent and returned my focus to my laptop screen. I had a lot in my head I wanted to get on the page, but my concentration was shit. I took a few deep breaths, lined my fingers up on the keyboard and prepared to let the words flow.

The doorbell rang.

I yelled in frustration. “Dammit!”

Throwing my chair back, I stalked to the door, yanking it open to see a huge bouquet of mixed roses.

“Can I help you?” I asked, hopeful the flowers were from a certain someone. I fought down the butterflies suddenly tickling the inside of my belly.

“Delivery,” the young kid squawked.

“No shit,” I mumbled, under my breath.

“Calla Fanning?” he asked, with uncertainty.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Have a nice day,” he said, thrusting the vase in my hands and practically running in the opposite direction.

“Thank you,” I yelled after him, taking the flowers inside.

I shut the door and dug around in the flowers, looking for the card. I was anxious to see if they were from Jake. Deep down I knew that was impossible, but a girl could dream. I pulled open the card and almost through the flowers at the door. Blake.

I stomped back into the office, grabbed my phone and called the man. “Stop!” I shouted when he picked up the phone.

“You got my flowers?” he asked, trying to talk in a sultry voice.

“Stop, Blake. It’s never going to happen. We’re over. You had years to do all of this and you didn’t. It’s too late.”

“It’s never too late,” he retorted. “You know we do this. Stop playing so hard to get.”

“I’m not, Blake. This is real. We are not meant to be together. We want different things. We are two very different people. It’s time to move on,” I told him, trying to keep my cool.

“I’m sorry I broke up with you. I didn’t know how much I loved you until you were gone. When I thought I lost you, I realized how important you were in my life,” he whined. “You can’t hold the other stuff against me. We both made mistakes.”

“Too little, too late. Blake, seriously, this isn’t ever going to happen. We’re not right for each other. You know that. You are only doing this because I’m the one who called it quits. I’m sure it hurts your ego, but that’s too bad. I don’t want to play this game anymore. I’ve got to get back to work. Please, stop calling and don’t you dare show up at my house again,” I warned. “Let it go. Move on. Go call Tina or whatever her name was.”

“I already apologized for that. She and I are no longer seeing each other,” he said, frustration in his voice.

I scoffed. “That’s unfortunate, because now you actually are single. This is when you’re supposed to look for another woman, not when you’re involved with one,” I said, laying on the sarcasm.

“Quit bringing that up. That was months ago,” he shot back.

“Yes, it was, and it should have been a sign for me then. You weren’t happy. You don’t love me,” I said, not upset by the words at all. It was actually a relief.

“Calla, we can talk and work this out. I’ll move into that house. We’ll make a real go of it this time.”

“No.”

“I got us tickets to that play you wanted to see in New York. We’ll have a nice dinner, see the play and then see the city. I rented a hotel room and everything. We’ll have a lovely weekend.”

“Goodbye, Blake.”

I hung up and felt supremely satisfied. I didn’t feel the least bit sad about letting the man go. The woman I was last week would be scrambling to get him back. Falling at his feet because he’d sent flowers. That woman was gone.

Jake had dared me not to fall for him. I had failed. I lost. Somehow, I had fallen for the Viking lookalike. It didn’t make any sense and I knew we could never be together, but he occupied my mind, body and soul now. There was no room for Blake, or any other man.

I knew Jake wasn’t really boyfriend material. He had made that very clear. I couldn’t show up at his door and pour out my heart. That would only make me look like a fool, which I knew and had accepted. I had the memories of our time together and that’s what I would hold onto. I’d had an absolutely wicked experience with him and I would cherish every second of it forever.

Sitting back down at the desk, I prepared to write. I stared at the flashing cursor, willing my fingers to move, but nothing happened. My concentration had been broken with thoughts of Jake and all the elusive what-ifs.

I stared at the screen a little longer, a million thoughts running through my head. Clearly, I was going to go crazy if I stayed put. I felt the itch to run. I couldn’t fault Jake for his commitment phobia because I had it as well. I couldn’t even commit to living in one place for more than a week or two before I got the itch to move on.

I felt the itch. I had to go. I grabbed my phone and called Holly.

“Hey!” she greeted. “I thought you were working?”

I groaned. “I am. I mean, I’m supposed to be, but I can’t. Does the publisher still want me to do that little press tour?”

“I can ask. I told them no, though. I thought you didn’t want to do it?” she asked, worry in her voice.

“I didn’t, but now I think it would be a good idea. I need to stay busy,” I told her.

“Calla, you are busy. You have a deadline coming up, remember?” she gently prodded.

I rolled my eyes, even if she couldn’t see me do it. “Yes, I know. I need a little outside stimulation to find my groove.”

“Okay, I’ll call and see what I can set up. What are you up for?” she asked, knowing me all too well.

The press tour thing wasn’t something I enjoyed at all. It always made me nervous. My writing allowed me to be somewhat anonymous. When I had to go out and actually meet the people who read my books, I always felt lacking. Like they expected someone like Jackie Collins to be sitting at the table. Instead, they got plain old me.

“Thanks. Let me know. I’ll pack and can be ready to go tonight or first thing in the morning.”

She laughed. “Oh, I see what’s happening.”

“What?” I asked defensively.

“It’s time to move. I’ll book your favorite hotel and clear off my couch,” she teased.

I sighed, Holly knew me too well. “Thanks, Hol. I’m going to get back to work now.”

With a plan in place, I felt better. I had to keep myself busy or I would sit and bellyache over unrequited love. I could pour all those feeling and emotions into my book, instead. I had to throw myself into my work or I was going to find myself on his doorstep, throwing myself at him.

That was something I couldn’t do—to myself, or to him. I did have some pride. He had made his position very clear and I would respect that. He liked his lonely little life upon the mountain, so I wouldn’t intrude. We had great sex. That was it. Great sex did not make for commitment.

Occasionally, I wondered if he would mind a little sex now and then. Like maybe we could work out a deal where I would pop over for a weekend once a month. We could have hot sext for days and then go back to our regular lives.

“Yeah right, Calla,” I groaned, shaking my head.

It would be lying to myself, and setting myself up for serious heartbreak. I couldn’t just have sex with the man. I wanted more—he didn’t. It was best to leave it alone. The ache I felt would fade. My work would help dull the pain.

“Work Calla. Come on. You have to work.”

Pushing all thoughts of Jake out of my head, I focused on my character. Before I knew it, I was writing about Jake. He had just become the star of the story. Of course, his name was now Drake and instead of blonde hair, it was brown. I smiled as I wrote, filling in all the character traits with the same ones Jake possessed. He would be immortalized forever in my new book. Hopefully, he never read it and recognized himself.

I blushed thinking about him reading the words I wrote about him.