“What are you making?” I asked as I slid onto a stool at his island.
Callan stirred a pot at the stove and glanced over his shoulder at me. “A healthy version of chicken tikka masala.”
My belly grumbled in anticipation. “Sounds delicious.”
A beep from my phone had me snatching it up. Erstwhile’s assistant confirmed the new meeting time, and I typed out a thank-you response.
When I looked up, Callan was frowning at the phone in my hand, but he turned away without saying anything.
“How was your day?” I asked. “How did training go?”
“The gaffer was hard on us.”
They’d lost leg 1 and leg 2 of their game against a Greek team in the European tournament thingie. Leg 2 had been yesterday. Rather than be depressed about it, Callan had poured all of his frustrations into me last night, and I wasn’t complaining about the resultant orgasms.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. We deserved it. We’ll have to prove ourselves against Glencairn on Sunday. If we come at least third in the Pro this year, we get the chance at Europe again. And I’m gunning for it. I’m ready to wipe the floor with anyone that comes between us and the Pro League.”
“Have I told you lately how sexy it is when you get all competitive?” I teased.
He shot me a grin, but my phone cut off whatever it was he was going to say.
“Sorry.” I winced, reaching for it. “It’s Cara.” I picked up. “Hullo.”
“Okay, I’ve switched up the content for Juniper Madley’s book release next week like you suggested. She’s happy with it. We’re scheduled and ready to go.”
“You are a superstar. Thank you for doing that at the last minute.”
“No, no, the book chat stuff was a good idea. I think it’ll get her great engagement.”
“Perfect. Thank you!”
“Have a good night.”
“You too.” I hung up and grimaced at Callan’s back. “Sorry.”
He shrugged and added something into the pot. “It’s fine.”
It didn’t seem fine.
My phone rang again. It was Michaela. I groaned. “I have to take this. Sorry.”
Callan dropped the wooden spoon in his pot and whirled around. His long arm reached my phone before I could. I gaped as he answered it. “Beth’s phone.”
“Callan—”
He shook his head, glowering at me. “This is Callan, Beth’s human sex toy.”
I could hear Michaela cackling on the other end of the line as Callan grinned at the face I made.
“Is this important?” He frowned at whatever she said and then rolled his eyes at me. “Well, you leave that until tomorrow or something. It’s Friday evening. Go enjoy yourself. And tell the rest of your team that I’m confiscating Beth’s phone for the restof the night … You too … Cheers. Bye.” He hung up and very deliberately switched off my phone.
Truthfully, I was less indignant than I pretended to be. Something like relief battled with my annoyance at his overstepping. “Give me my phone.”
Instead, he walked out of the room with it.
I gaped after him.
