Callum. He's like a lighthouse guiding me home, a hearth during a violent storm. The first crack of golden light in thedawn. Not just comforting, but necessary, like the air in my lungs or the gravity keeping me tethered to the earth.
I could fall for him, dangerously so.
Actually, I've already fallen—somewhere between book club nights and hangouts at the store, between laughing hard enough to cry when Callum repeatedly put his foot in his mouth, sunsets and boardwalk fries, and him holding me when I cried, never flinching when I got sick.
There's no denying it now.
I’ve fallen hard.
Am I being selfish for feeling this way? Definitely. But can I stop? No. I can't.
This would be the moment to untangle myself and let Callum know we should just keep being friends. That this is going to become too complicated, too messy, too uncertain. To protect him from themightsandmaybesand the ticking clock inside my body that could just devastate him in the end.
To let him know that I think he deserves someone whole, someone healthy, someone who can promise him a lifetime.
But that would mean lying to him, and to myself, depriving us of something that could be beautiful.
That would mean walking away from Callum.
I can't do that.
Iwon'tdo that.
Because everything in me—my mind, my body, my soul—has already made its decision.
Callum is mine.
For however long I have.
"Ha! Told you!"
His triumphant voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I turn just in time to see the third ring he tossed settle perfectly around the bottleneck with a satisfying clink.
"Are you kidding me?" I stare at the bottle in disbelief. Callumjust chuckles and points toward the otters. The teen attendant cuts them down and hands them to Callum, who takes them both. Turning to me, he bows slightly and holds it out, like he's presenting me with a royal offering.
“Your otters, as promised.”
Up close, they’re even cuter and so soft, their tiny paws stitched together like they’re holding hands. I can't help but think back to the night Callum slept over and how we woke up holding hands, as if our bodies were afraid to let go of each other. The comparison between them and us makes me happy. I squeeze them to my chest, my heart suddenly feeling too full for my body.
“Thank you, Callum,” I choke out, voice thick with emotion.
"Of course," his eyes soften, before his smile turns a bit smug. "And what did we learn?"
I laugh and mock-bow to him in exaggerated reverence. "That you are the Chosen One, Master Rhodes. Teach me your ways."
His laughter is infectious, vibrating through my bones, and I truly love how we can joke with each other. I don't have to measure my words or worry that what I'm saying is dumb or not funny. I'm never too much or not enough with him, I'm just Sophie.
Holding the otters up, that bubbly, giddy feeling spreads through my entire body like it's coursing through my veins.
"Look," I say, my voice soft. "Otters hold hands when they sleep... so they don't drift apart."
Callum catches my meaning immediately, and his smile shifts into something... more. His body leans a little closer to mine, and I find my own body responding like there's a magnetic pull between us.
"Otters don't drift," Callum brushes his fingers along the soft brown fur with one hand, and links our hands together with his other one. There's something so certain in his voice, in his gaze,that feels like a promise. I instinctively squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back, still smiling at me.
Callum's voice is low and soft as he gently tugs me toward the food booths, "Come on, my otter. Let me feed you.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
