everything Jared wasn’t.
And everything Callie wanted.
The memory sucker-punched Jared in the gut and he had to swallow hard before he could breathe again. He’d let Callie go, left college, leaving them behind without a second glance, because he’d thought she was better off—
Had she been? Had he made the right choice?
Hell yes, he had. She would have never been happy with Jared—she’d made that clear. Jared thought that after nine years that last night with Callie wouldn’t still sting, would have become some distant memory, fog on his past’s horizon.
But nothing about Callie Phillips was foggy in his mind. And he’d be fooling himself if he thought otherwise.
He cleared his throat and took a swig of beer. “So what are you doing now? I take it you’re not the bohemian I remember.”
She chuckled. “No. I’m now a responsible tax-paying florist.”
“A florist?” He assessed her. “That, I can believe. You transformed that hovel I called an apartment into a respectable home, something that didn’t scream bachelor dive. You always did have an eye for color and design.” Jared straightened his glasses again, then asked the one question that had lingered on the tip of his tongue ever since she’d walked into the bar. Was she still with him? “So, how are things with Tony?” he said, nonchalant, taking a sip of beer. “Did you guys have any kids?”
“We’re divorced. No kids.”
Pain flickered in her gaze, and he wanted to ask more, but they’d only been sitting together for five minutes. It wouldn’t be right to probe. No matter how curious he was, how the need to know nearly overwhelmed him. What had happened? When had the tarnish appeared on the golden couple? And did Callie ever regret what had happened? Did she ever think about how her leaving Jared had affected him?
Jared took a sip of beer and navigated toward safer subjects. “Do you live here, in the city?”
She nodded. “I settled back in Boston three years ago when Tony got a job in the city. That’s when I was hired to be a florist for the Wedding Belles.”
“The Wedding Belles?”
“It’s a wedding planning company over on Newbury Street. There are six of us, all working for a woman named Belle, hence the name.”
“Wow. We’re practically neighbors,” Jared said. “I live right around the corner from here and the research division of the company I work for is five blocks from Newbury Street.”
“All those times we could have run into each other and never did.”
“Until now.” Jared’s gaze met hers. Heat brewed between them, a connection never really lost, even though many years had passed since they’d last seen each other. “Serendipity brings us together again.”
“Either that or bad taste in bars.” She raised her drink toward his.
“Always the optimist.” He smiled, teasing her, then tapped her glass with his own. “You haven’t changed, Callie.” He paused, and searched her face, looking for the woman he used to know. The one who had made his pulse race, encouraged him to take chances, to think bigger, wilder, to dream of possibilities he’d never dared to have—not until she’d come along. And never dared to have again after she’d gone. “Have you?”
“I should probably go,” Callie said suddenly, pushing her margarita to the side. “You have work to do and this…” She looked around the empty bar. “This was not a good idea.”
“What do you mean?” She’d just arrived and already she was leaving?
“I just stopped by to drop off the invitations. Thanks for the drink, Jared, and the trip down Memory Lane.”
He wasn’t going to let her get away that easily. He couldn’t, not again. When Callie had been in his life, she’d brought something special, something he’d never found again. Losing her had hurt, hurt like hell. And for just a moment, even though he knew it was crazy and knew she was all wrong for him, he wanted her. “Don’t go. Not yet.”
“I have a busy day ahead of me tomorrow.” She started to slip off the stool, grabbing her clutch purse from the bar.
He reached for her arm, intending only to stop her, to keep her from leaving too soon. But the fire that rocketed through Jared’s veins told him that nothing had died between them, at least not on his end. Every bit of the attraction that had been left undone in high school, barely explored in college, lurked under the surface, like tinder simply waiting for that spark.
“Callie—” He cut off the sentence. What ending did he have? He hadn’t had a “Cool” transplant in the last nine years, which meant he was still the man he’d always been, the kind of man she hadn’t wanted.
Only a fool went for a third strike. Yet, Jared found himself drawn again, wondering if the distance of years would give each of them another shot.
“I should get home,” Callie said, stepping out of his grasp. “Nice seeing you again, Jared.”
And then she was gone. The door shut behind her, whisking in a cool burst of air as a goodbye.
In an instant, regrets blasted Jared. What the hell was he thinking, letting her get away again? At the very least, he should have asked her out, just to see…
What?
He didn’t know, really. They’d been over for a long time—if they’d ever really been anything at all—yet something inside him still wanted to know. Still felt that sense of something undone, that insistent need to complete the storyline.
Why didn’t he just leave the past alone—leave her alone?
When he met her gaze, he knew why. Because a part of him still wanted answers to his questions. Wanted to know how Callie felt about those days. Jared didn’t want a relationship. He wanted closure.
“Hey, where’d sh-she go? The pretty lady?”
Sam. Jared had forgotten all about him. He turned to find the man, looking a little better with his face washed, and a cup of coffee in him. “She had to leave.”
Sam sighed. “The pretty ones always have to go, don’t they?”
“Seems that way.”
Several people trickled into the bar. None of them Callie. Jared didn’t look for couples, no longer cared about his research.
Sam sank onto one of the stools. Jared signaled for a refill of the coffee cup. “My Angie, sh-she’s gone now. Lost her, lost my res-sh-tauraunt, lost everything,” Sam said. “That’s why I’m a…a drunk.” He ran a hand through his hair, then shook his head. “My Angie, she’d yell at me, tell me to straighten up. Get it together for the grandkids.”
“Why don’t you?” Jared asked, his voice almost bitter and angry. As the words left him, he knew the question wasn’t just for Sam, but for someone else, someone who wasn’t here, and who couldn’t answer.
Sam shrugged, then
