I glance at Callum, whose shoulders instantly relax. “Hi, buddy. Sure. What do you want me to sign?”
“Er…” the kid says, looking at his parents. I guess they didn’t plan it this far. Or, maybe they were just expecting him to say no? They do seem a little surprised.
I rummage through my bag and only find a crumpled piece of paper. “Maybe I can ask inside?” I suggest as the valet rolls up with Callum’s car.
“I have a better idea.” He hustles over to his car and pops the trunk.
When he comes back, he’s holding one of his training jerseys. The kid’s eyes sparkle brighter than the fairy lights draped over the restaurant’s facade.
“Do you have a pen?” Callum asks the kid, but he only frowns.
I laugh as his mom hurries back into the restaurant, coming back with a black sharpie. After finding out the kid’s name, Callum signs the jersey for him.
“Thank you!” he gushes, jumping in place. “You’re my favourite player.” Opening his little arms, he hugs Callum tight, and it might just be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
Callum was clearly not expecting it. He goes stiff, his eyebrows lifting as he pats the kid on the back, then ruffles his hair. “Thanks, lad. That means a lot.”
“No, thankyou,” the dad says, shaking Callum’s hand. “Made his night.”
I snap a picture of the family talking with Callum before they walk away.
When we sit down in his car, I glance at him. “That was cute,” I say. “Between that and helping Princess find a home, no one will be able to deny you have a heart.”
He just shakes his head, butmyheart is doing some serious somersaults in my chest. Because the fact that he does makes things a little more complicated for me.
Chapter 20
Callum
Two days after our dinner together, Millie comes to my place before work—yeah, you read that right—with the blueprint of a social media post specifically crafted to help Princess find a home. And after talking with the shelter, we now understand a bit more about why it’s been so difficult to find her one. Initially, I thought it was just another case of sass,à laFergie, but it turns out that Princess is, well, a princess. Simply put, she’s accustomed to being treated like royalty. She wears dresses and tiaras, refuses to go outside, requires a bed to sleep in, and needs to be washed regularly in an oversized bath. I’m guessing it’s going to be a little harder than with Fergie, and we’re talking about a bird that can outlive its owners, knows how to talk, and has a knack for tormenting people.
“I’m honestly not sure it’s going to work,” I say flatly between takes as we’re recording the voiceover. Millie asked the shelter for a bunch of pictures of Princess, then put together a slideshow that will accompany my voice.
“Yes, it will,” she insists. “You have millions of followers now. Surely one of them will be interested, or know someone who is. Not to mention all the shares. It’s bound to work. And it doesn’t require much work from our end. Now, let’s get back to it.”
My eyes widen. “Wow. So bossy when you’re on a mission.”
“Sorry.” She cringes. “I admit, I’m a little excited, but we also don’t have much time. You have to be at the training centre in just over an hour.”
I shake my head. “Yes. Biggest match of the league tonight, and I woke up early to save a pig. See what my life has become since you stepped foot in it?”
She laughs, the sound immediately making me forget the early hour. “Oh, come on. You love it. Your life is so much better now.”
I roll my eyes, but a tiny part of me agrees with her.
“All right, let’s go again. Remember, articulate each word, and wait for the slide to change before speaking the next phrase.”
“Ididarticulate. The problem is your terrible handwriting,”—I glance down at the flashcards she made— “What is that, an ‘e’?”
She gives me a pointed look. “I have excellent penmanship, thank you very much.”
My eyes flit down to the flashcard. “If you could just find it in your heart to help her,” I read flatly, then sigh. “This is boring, and I would never say that.”
“Well, I wrote it in a rush. Give me that.”
“I’m not done,” I say, starting to read her script again.
She leans over to snatch the flashcard out of my hand, but I raise my arm to keep them out of her reach. Clawing at the flashcards, she loses her balance and falls onto my chest, her face suddenly inches from mine. I pause, my gaze flitting from her beautiful blue eyes down to her lips, and my heart pounds like a jackhammer. There is nothing I want more right now than to kiss Millie Templeton, and the thought terrifies me. We linger there a few more seconds, our eyes locked. Then, she tries to grab the flashcard again, but I grip it tight.
