Chapter Three
Callan
When did I start wearing my heart on my sleeve?
Rubbing my eyes, I woke up with one thought in my head. I made a jackass out of myself.
When Sage said that what we’d done had been a mistake and that she’d always regretted having s*x with me, it sort of destroyed something inside of me.
Sure, maybe I’d romanticized what we’d done a bit. But it wasn’t something ugly, nasty, or even dirty. It was rough. It was unexpected. And it was spectacular.
That was my take on it. And that was okay. She and I could have different ideas about what it had meant. Apparently, my ego had taken over, turning the pain I had going on into anger, which had spewed out all over Sage.
Rolling out of bed, my head pounded with a headache the size of Texas. I’d downed two more tequila shots
