Morbidly Yours by Fairbanks Ivy

Author:Fairbanks, Ivy [Fairbanks, Ivy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Contemporary, Adult
Amazon: B0C8DPGKMC
Goodreads: 178930867
Publisher: Lassen Press
Published: 2023-07-25T07:00:00+00:00

22

The reasons not to kiss Callum could fill a movie credits scroll.

We’d just talked about him starting a family, feeling optimistic about meeting the right one, and then he kissed me. He kissed me. With a kiss that had no right to be that hot. Neither of us had been thinking straight. At least he could blame his lapse of judgment on light brain trauma. I had no excuse.

I scurried back to my apartment under April clouds in the fickle Irish sky. How quickly things change. Just an hour ago, it had been sunny. Just an hour ago, my neighbor and I had only been friends.

Yeah, right.

I’d been developing feelings for Callum over months. Like a Polaroid photo slowly emerging into focus from a blank paper. Before I knew it, I was looking at a vivid portrait of a kind, sensitive, witty man. And being drawn to him, beyond the physical.

Relieved to finally shed the fabulously sequined spandex monstrosity, I changed into regular lounging clothes, then fed Houdini and responded to work emails that could’ve waited until the morning. Anything to distract from the way Callum’s wide hands so tenderly traced the curve of my neck. The way his throat rumbled when our tongues slid together. Even the blast of icy water from the shower did little to subdue the desire to march next door and have my way with him on his kitchen table. Then, again, in his shower.

When I rang Callum at ten to check in on him, he didn’t answer. I tried again, but the call went to voicemail. Maybe he was fixing himself a cup of tea. Or sleeping. I forced myself to scroll on my phone for three minutes, resolving not to panic. Just because he wasn’t answering didn’t mean he’d succumbed to his head injury; he’d been well enough to make out with me earlier.

By the third unsuccessful attempt, I’d already slipped on my (well, mine now) hoodie and tennis shoes. I had to be sure.

Hood raised to protect from the sudden, bitter rain, I jogged down the sidewalk between our properties. Puddles reflected orange halos of streetlamps. Rain poured from the spouts, occasional bursts of lightning threading through the moody sky. My chilled fists stung as I banged on the stained glass door. “Callum! Cal!”

Another heavy set of knocks, so hard the entire landing shook with each blow. No response. Was it me who was shaking? I dodged puddles on the path through the gate into the garden.

Rain pelted the rose bushes, a birdbath, and a garden bench. Ivy blanketed the back of the house, framing one narrow window inches above my head. Bingo. With a grunt, I dragged the small iron bench through the muck to reach the window. Locked. I found a large stone and hurled it at the glass. It shattered, but I’d worry about that later. Callum could be in danger. To protect against the broken edges, I slipped my hand into the oversized hoodie sleeve as I undid the latch.

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