Escaping the Playboy

Seven years with Pierce. He said he got bored, then turned around and replaced me with a younger, fresher girl.

This time, I didn't scream or fight. I dropped the ring in the trash and took a pair of scissors to my brand-new wedding dress.

I boarded a red-eye flight out of New York.

His circle of friends placed bets on how soon I would crawl back.

Pierce just smirked and lit a cigarette. "Give it three days. She'll come crying back to me."

Three days passed, and then three more. I didn't leave a single trace.

He finally cracked. My phone rang, his voice coming through the line. "Wren, if you're done throwing your tantrum, come home"

A low male chuckle echoed into the receiver. "Pierce, you really shouldn't leave a girl alone overnight. Someone might just swoop in and take her off your hands."

The sharp sound of shattering glass blasted through the speaker as Pierce kicked over a coffee table. He growled into the mic, "Put Wren on the phone!"

Callahan yanked his tie loose. His large hand clamped down on my waist, pulling me hard against his chest. "Can't do that," he murmured into the phone. "She's still out cold. I'll have to kiss her awake first."

Chapter 1

Year seven with Pierce.

I bought a wedding dress in secret, finally working up the nerve to propose to him.

But bad timing is a bitch. I showed up a few minutes late to the party that night. Just in time to hear him chatting with his friends.

"You mean Wren? I got bored of her a long time ago." Pierce lit a cigarette, a lazy smirk on his face. "Seven years. You wouldn't get sick of it?"

The guys chuckled. "Fair point. Seven years is a long time, even if she's a ten."

"Wren is gorgeous, though."

"Her body is insane. Last time at your birthday, she wore that skin-tight deep-V red dress, and every guy in the room couldn't take his eyes off her."

"Seriously, Pierce, you used to be obsessed with her. You really letting her go?"

Pierce's voice was flat. "When do I ever bluff?"

"So if I went after Wren, you wouldn't mind?"

"Go for it." Pierce blew a smoke ring, unbothered. "As long as it doesn't weird you out."

"Have some dignity, man. You really want Pierce's sloppy seconds?"

Another round of laughter erupted.

I never walked into that private room. I texted him a bullshit excuse about a headache and went straight home. Pierce didn't ask a single question before he hung up.

The decision to leave was finalized that exact night.

Two days later, the rumors blew up our social circle.

Pierce was going after a college sophomore. A theater major. Young, fresh, and naive.

He always put on a massive show when he wanted someone. Just like when he came after memaking sure the whole world knew, casually throwing penthouses, sports cars, and diamonds at the problem. A college girl didn't stand a chance against that kind of firepower.

She caved in two days.

At the next get-together, Pierce brought her along. The second they walked in, the entire room went dead silent. A few of the girls who actually liked me shot me worried glances.

I offered a small smile. "Why so quiet? Why is everyone staring at me?"

Pierce pulled the girl down onto the leather sofa next to him. He finally looked me in the eye. "Wren, since we're all here, I'm just going to lay it out."

"Go ahead."

"This back-and-forth for years is getting old. The spark has been dead for a while."

I clenched my fists. The diamond ring on my middle finger pierced straight into my palm. Blood dripped directly onto the carpet.

"Dixie is young. She's innocent. I really like her, and I don't want to hide her." Pierce stroked the girl's hair. "I need to make it official with her."

I gave a slight nod. "Got it."

"We're still friends. If you ever need anything, just call. As long as you're in New York, I'll still look out for you."

"Let's not." I let out a dry laugh and stood up. "A clean break is better. We wouldn't want to give the new girl the wrong idea."

Pierce raised an eyebrow, a flash of surprise crossing his face. A second later, he shrugged. "Fair."

"Enjoy the party. I'm heading out."

"Want my driver to take you?"

"No need. I'll get a cab."

I walked out of the room. As I pulled the door shut, a voice drifted through the crack.

"How long do you think Wren will last this time?"

"Two days?"

"She actually looked a little pissed. I'll give it a week."

Pierce glanced at the half-open door, his lips pulling into a cruel smirk. "Give it three days. She'll come crying back."

"It's been the same script for years. It's getting boring."

"True. How could Wren ever leave you? Everyone knows she's insane about you"

I let out a self-deprecating scoff. I tightened my grip on my clutch and walked straight toward the elevator.

Chapter 2

Back at the penthouse, I walked into the corner of the walk-in closet and pulled down the wedding dress.

I waited six months for this custom order, but I'd never get the chance to wear it. It was tailored, strictly non-refundable. I grabbed a pair of heavy fabric scissors and sliced right through the tulle.

Leaving it here would only be an eyesore for Pierce.

On my way out, I pulled the diamond ring off my finger and dropped it onto the glass coffee table.

I didn't pack much. Just my clothes and personal essentials. I left everything else behind.

I scribbled a quick note for Pierce, telling him he could trash or keep whatever was left in the apartment without asking me.

I booked a red-eye flight to Miami.

My best friend, Fallon, had married and moved down there last year, making it the perfect escape. She dragged me out for shopping and afternoon tea. That night, she threw together a small get-together with some old college friends.

Halfway through our drinks, the private room door swung open.

A few girls at the table immediately lit up. "Callahan? You're a rare sight."

"Seriously, big shot. What brings you to our side of town?"

"I was closing a deal next door. Heard some old friends were gathering, so I figured I'd crash." As Callahan spoke, his gaze locked onto a specific spot before slowly dragging away.

Fallon pinched my arm under the table. "Wren, Callahan totally came here for you."

I blinked at the man through a hazy, alcohol-fueled blur. He was taller than Pierce, wearing a sharp black overcoat over a dark, tailored suit. He had striking, razor-sharp features, broad shoulders, and impossibly long legs.

I squinted at him for a moment before shaking my head. "No way. We haven't talked in years."

Fallon ignored me entirely. She raised her voice across the room. "Callahan! Could you do me a favor and drop Wren off later? We've all been drinking, and I don't trust an Uber with her right now."

I froze and jerked my head toward Callahan.

His eyes cut through the crowded room and landed dead on my face. Two seconds ticked by before he gave a single, curt nod. "Sure."

"Thanks, big guy!" Fallon smiled, dropping back into her seat and leaning close to my ear. "Wren, sleeping with the same man for seven years is a terrible return on investment."

"If Pierce can play the field, why can't you get a rebound?"

"Besides, a top-tier specimen like Callahan? You'd be crazy not to tap that."

"What makes you think he wants to sleep with me?"

"Babe, the way he's looking at you, he's already stripping you naked in his head. Trust me. I've dated eighteen guys. I know how this works."

Callahan drove me back to my hotel.

When he pulled up to the entrance, I popped my seatbelt and turned to him. "Thanks for the ride."

Callahan turned his head, his sharp jawline catching the streetlights. "Don't mention it."

I pushed the passenger door open. Just as I was about to step out, Pierce's cruel words from the other night flashed through my mind.

Some reckless impulse took over, and the words slipped out of my mouth. "Want to come up for a drink?"

The elevator doors had barely slid shut when Callahan slammed me against the metal wall, ducked his head, and bit down hard on my lips.

The alcohol was already spinning in my head. His kiss was aggressive, pinning me down until my lungs burned for air.

"There's a camera" I gasped out, my face burning. My knees gave out, forcing me to grip his waist just to stay upright.

Callahan shot a dark look at the security lens in the corner. He grabbed my hips, flipped us around to block the angle, and crashed his mouth back down on mine.

Chapter 3

The hotel room door clicked open. He stopped in the entryway. "Wren. If you want to back out, tell me now."

"Back out of what?"

I grabbed his tie and yanked hard, forcing his head down. "You already wrecked my lips. Why act like a gentleman now?"

Callahan let out a low chuckle. He reached out, his thumb lightly tracing the swollen line of my lower lip. "Too late for regrets, then."

We didn't even make it to the bedroom.

The rough wallpaper scraped against my bare back. I sank my teeth into his shoulder. "Callahan, are you a wild animal? Ever heard of taking it easy?"

His burning palm slid between my spine and the wall, absorbing the friction. His ragged breathing scorched the side of my neck as he pressed his lips to my pulse point. "Wren, I can't hold back anymore"

Five minutes later, I understood exactly what he meant.

Callahan carried me into the bedroom. I buried my face in the pillows, shaking with laughter. "Callahan, how long has it been since you've been with a woman?"

Callahan shot me a dark look. "A while. I've been focused on work."

I stared at him, my laughter slowly fading.

A second later, hot tears spilled over my eyelashes. "I'm sorry, Callahan. I I made a mess of this."

"Wren, what are you talking about?" He froze, his jaw tightening the second the first tear dropped. He hurriedly wiped the wetness from my cheeks, but the tears wouldn't stop.

"I shouldn't have messed with you."

"You already did."

Callahan leaned over. His large hands cupped my face, forcing my gaze to meet his. His voice dropped, dead serious. "Wren, since you crossed this line, you're crossing it all the way."

Day seven in Miami.

My phone buzzed. Carter, a friend from New York, shot me a text message.

[Wren, when are you coming back to the city?]

[No plans to come back anytime soon.]

[Everyone misses you. It's Wyatt's birthday in a couple of days. Come back and hang out with us.]

[Pass. Wish him a happy birthday for me. I'll mail him a gift.]

[Alright. Take care of yourself.]

Back in New York, inside a private VIP room. Carter slid his phone across the table toward Pierce. "Pierce, look. Why don't you just call Wren? She always listens to you."

Pierce stared blankly at the glowing screen. He crushed his cigarette into the ashtray and shot to his feet. "She can stay out there for all I care. Let her rot."

"Pierce chill out. Wren's just having a hard time."

"Yeah, man. She took the ring off this time. She's actually hurting. You took it a little too far with that new girl"

"We're already fucking done! What else does she want?"

Pierce kicked a nearby heavy leather chair. "Listen up. Nobody fucking contacts her. If she drops dead, you leave her alone!"

"Alright, alright, we won't call her! Just calm down. You literally drank yourself into stomach bleeding two days ago."

"Your stomach never acted up when Wren was around. She's been gone for a week, and you're already thrashing yourself"

With every word his friends spoke, the muscles in Pierce's jaw tightened further.

Finally, he snatched his jacket off the couch and slammed the heavy door behind him.

He marched straight to the ground floor. The freezing night wind slammed into his face, but he yanked his collar open, his chest heaving heavily.

Seven days. Not a single call. Not a single text.

He punched the cold metal of a streetlight. Playing hard to get?

Pierce ripped his phone out of his pocket and jabbed the screen, blocking Wren's number.

"You better not come crawling back," he muttered to the empty street, his grip nearly cracking the screen. "Because I'm not playing nice this time."

Chapter 4

Callahan called just as I hit enter on the final paragraph and formatted the document.

I started writing magazine columns back in college and actually made a name for myself. After graduation, I took it full-time. Thanks to that little bit of talent, the money was solid. The freedom was betterI could drag my laptop anywhere in the world.

So after the breakup, there was zero reason to stay in New York and wallow.

"Wren, what are you craving for dinner?"

Callahan's crisp voice came through the speaker. A whole afternoon of grinding away at the keyboard instantly melted away.

"My brain cells are fried. I'm exhausted. You pick."

"Want to hit up that old-school diner? I know a place with killer double cheeseburgers and loaded fries. You'll love it."

I used to always order extra greasy junk food. But later, Pierce said watching me eat it made him sick, so I rarely touched it. Yet I vaguely remembered Callahan always sticking to a strict, clean diet.

"Callahan, you don't have to force yourself to eat grease for me. I'm not picky anymore."

"I actually have a craving for it. Remember back in college? That off-campus late-night food truck. The burger patties on that flat top were always sizzling in their own grease."

Just hearing him talk about it made my mouth water. That food truck really was god-tier. I ate there for four straight years and never got sick of it.

"Alright, then. Let's get burgers."

"I'll come pick you up now."

"Okay."

Callahan drove me to a retro diner that had been running in Miami for decades. The neon sign was cracked, the booths were cramped, but the place was packed to the brim.

The only problem was Callahan. Standing there in his tailored, thousand-dollar suit, he stuck out like a sore thumb against the peeling vinyl seats.

I watched him pull a napkin and methodically wipe down the vinyl booth for me. He seamlessly grabbed the plastic ketchup bottle, wiped the nozzle, and poured me a glass of iced tea. For a guy born with a silver spoon, he handled the cheap diner chores without missing a beat.

"Callahan, your ex really trained you well," I couldn't help but say.

Unlike me, wasting seven years on off-and-on drama. The only time I actually felt taken care of was right at the beginning, when Pierce first chased me. Later, after graduation, we moved in together. I practically turned into a middle-aged housewife.

Pierce was constantly hungover and his stomach was wrecked, so I learned how to cook all sorts of hot hangover cures and healthy home-cooked dinners. I took care of him like an on-call private nanny.

But looking back now, it all made sense. I loved him so much I erased my own identity. I forgot the most basic ruleyou have to love yourself first. How could I ever expect his attention to last?

Callahan slid a basket of fries across the table to me and lifted his gaze. "Where did you hear I had an ex-girlfriend?"

I blinked. "Didn't you have that one girl glued to your side back in college? I thought you two grew up together."

"You mean Chelsea?" Callahan let out a dry laugh.

"We grew up together, sure. But we never dated. I don't see her that way. At most, she's a little sister to me."

"So you haven't dated anyone all these years?"

Callahan methodically rolled up his crisp dress shirt sleeves. "Went on some blind dates. Saw a few people casually. Nothing fit, so I cut it off."

"Oh and nothing since then?"

I dropped my gaze to the table. Flashing back to how reckless and intense he was that first night in the hotel his words suddenly held a lot more weight.

"Wren. I won't do that next time."

Callahan's sudden statement left me staring blankly at him. "Won't do what?"

He turned his face away and cleared his throat. Maybe it was the heat radiating from the crowded diner, but the tips of his ears were burning a dark, undeniable red.

"You'll see later."

Chapter 5

Callahan slid the basket of loaded fries across the table toward me. "Eat."

It wasn't until he drove me back to the hotel, after we showered and he carried me from the bathroom straight to the mattress, that I finally understood what he meant.

By then, my entire body felt like it was breaking apart.

"Callahan" I glared at him, but my vision was already blurring with heavy moisture. My voice trembled, cracking over his namea shattered, breathy sound that held absolutely zero real anger.

Callahan lowered his head, his lips brushing dangerously against mine. "Wren. Does it feel good?"

I shook my head, refusing to answer him. He didn't lose his temper. He just kept pressing those slow, deliberate kisses against my skin, dragging out the friction until my nerves snapped.

Hot, physiological tears spilled from the corners of my eyes. "Callahan" My nails dug into the rigid muscles of his lower back. A pathetic, desperate sob ripped out of my throat.

"Wren. Tell me right now. Does it feel good?"

Callahan's eyes were bloodshot with restraint. The thick veins in his forearms strained against his skin, and heavy drops of sweat rolled off his forehead, splashing onto my collarbone.

The delay shattered my last ounce of sanity. I broke down, my chest heaving with heavy sobs. "Yes God, yes"

Just as my consciousness short-circuited, Callahan pressed his mouth directly against my ear. His voice was a guttural, ragged whisper. "If it feels good, Wren then never leave me. Understand?"

On the night of Wyatt's birthday, the gift I bought in Miami was delivered to him by a mutual friend.

Pierce sat heavily on the leather sofa, dragging on a cigarette. The bottle of vintage Macallan on the table in front of him was already more than half empty.

The gift I got for Wyatt was picked out by Callahan and me. A pair of vintage cufflinks from a high-end designer brand Callahan favored.

"These are really sharp." Wyatt forced a stiff laugh. He shot a nervous glance at Pierce's dark expression and quickly gestured for his girlfriend to put the box away.

"Bring it here." Pierce's voice cut through the noise.

Wyatt froze, but he didn't dare argue. He quickly slid the velvet box across the table.

Pierce stared down at the cufflinks. The brand's logo was understated, barely visible, but Pierce's eyes locked onto it for a long, deadly minute.

"Put it away." He snapped the box shut and shoved it aside.

Wyatt let out a massive sigh of relief and reached for it.

Pierce snatched the heavy, empty liquor bottle and hurled it against the wall.

The deafening shatter of exploding glass ripped through the room. A jagged, razor-sharp shard sliced directly through the back of Pierce's hand. Thick, dark blood instantly gushed from the open wound.

Panic erupted in the private suite.

"What the hell is going on? Pierce, what the fuck?"

"Shit, that's deep! We can't stop the bleeding. We need to get him to the ER"

Pierce stood frozen in place, a dangerous muscle ticking in his jaw.

"Wren has never bought anything from this brand." His voice was low, shredded.

Wyatt frantically tried to smooth it over with a nervous laugh. "Come on, it's nothing. She probably just picked it out at random."

"Yeah, it's not like your birthday. Wren spends six months stressing over what to get you."

"Exactly, Pierce. You mean more to her than all of us combined. Everyone knows how obsessed she is with you."

Pierce let out a cold, hollow scoff. "Obsessed with me?"

The chaotic, screaming room went dead silent.

Chapter 6

"Pierce how about I give Wren a call?"

"We should deal with the cut first"

Wyatt grew a pair. He grabbed his phone, snapped a photo of the mangled, bleeding flesh on the back of Pierce's hand, and texted it straight to Wren.

Pierce didn't stop him. Maybe Wyatt moved too fast, or maybe Pierce didn't actually want to.

The private room plunged into a suffocating silence.

Ten agonizing seconds later, Wyatt's phone buzzed.

"See? I told you she's crazy about you!" Wyatt grinned, waving the glowing screen. "Pierce, look! It's Wren calling!"

Everyone in the room noticed Pierce's tight jawline relax a fraction.

"You want this?" Wyatt shoved the phone toward him.

Pierce turned his head away, refusing to even glance at it.

"I got it, I got it." Wyatt tapped the screen and hit speakerphone.

The second Wren's voice drifted through the speakers, the corners of Pierce's lips pulled tight.

"Wyatt? What happened? Are you hurt?"

"Nah, not me. It's Pierce's hand. You have no idea how bad it is, blood is pouring everywhere, we can't get it to stop"

Wyatt rambled on. The other end of the line was completely silent.

"Wren, you there? You you should really come back. He refuses to go to the hospital, and he's just bleeding out here."

"Wyatt." Wren's voice remained perfectly calm and soft.

"Yeah? I'm listening." Wyatt shot a knowing wink at Pierce.

"Don't tell me about him anymore