Millie bubbles out a laugh, and I glance at her. “Really? You just ruined the take.”
“Sorry,” she says, throwing a hand over her mouth. Her face is flushed red, and her eyes are glassy. “I couldn’t help it. This is too hilarious.”
I give her a pointed look. “It’s not really meant to be funny. Just wanted to tell it like it is.”
“And that’s what makes it so funny! You’re a funny guy, Callum Murray. It’s time you accept that.”
I roll my eyes. “Will you manage to rein in your laughter if we try again, or am I justthathilarious?”
She suppresses another laugh. “Sorry. Yes, I’ll stop. Let’s go again.”
We take it from the top, and Millie manages to maintain her composure. The third slide is a picture of Princess lounging on a velvet cushion.
“She lives indoors,” I say. “Thinks she’s royalty. Probably is.”
Millie’s lips give a little twitch, but she stays silent. An image of Princess hugging her former owner, eyes closed, appears on the screen.
“But she’s also the sweetest pig you’ll ever meet,” I continue. “And she’ll love you more than anyone in the world.”
The next slide appears—a photo of Princess overlaid with the shelter name and contact information.
“She’s looking for a new castle,” I say. “Share if you know someone who’s ready to treat a pig like royalty. US only—we’re full on royal residents here. Well, I’ve done my bit. Go rescue a princess.”
Millie presses the stop button on the screen, then stares at me in awe. “Callum, this is amazing. You’re right, it’s so much better than what I had. It was so funny, sarcastic—soyou. I loved it.”
I scratch the back of my head. “Well, I learned from the best.”
She smiles. “I’ll work on a caption, and you can tell me what you think. As for hashtags, we could do #saveprincess and #adoptprincess. I’ll look into more.”
“Maybe #royalpig?” I suggest.
She presses her lips together, her eyes twinkling. “You really did learn from the best. That’s brilliant.”
I hit her with a pillow.
“Callum! No more pillow fights. We have work to do,” she says, standing up.
I smirk. “Scared now, are you?”
She struts to the entrance, glancing back at me. “Absolutely not. But you, sir, have an important match to prep for.”
I chuckle and follow her—even if I’d much rather have another pillow fight than play football right now.
Chapter 21
Millie
I haven’t seen Callum since our pillow fight this morning. Well, I saw him on the pitch, but we haven’t spoken. Just like last time, I watched the first half of the match from the sidelines, but I didn’t go back into the locker rooms after the game because the Regents lost 2–1. Of course, losing is part of the game, but I don’t think the team would have appreciated having that documented for social media.
I park my little car in Archie’s garage—Roxy and Fallon assured me that the guys gather at Archie’s, win or lose—and ring the doorbell, my heart ticking a little faster than usual. I know Callum is already here because his sleek blackmobile is parked nearby, and the anticipation of seeing him stirs under my skin. For the briefest of moments during our little fight, there was a vibe, like we were seconds away from kissing. I’ve been trying to convince myself that my mind was just playing tricks on me, but I can’t deny it was the first time I’d seen Callum that playful since I met him. And that’s not helping with the inconvenient attraction I already feel for him.
Archie opens his front door with unusual gravity, his signature grin dimmed, lips pressed tight. “All right, Millie?” he asks, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Come on in.”
“Sorry about the game,” I murmur, stepping inside and peeling off my coat. “You played well. It was—”
“Tut, tut.” Finn emerges from the living room, wagging a finger dramatically. “What happened at the game stays at the game.”
I nod in understanding. Though, I’m guessing that rule only applies when they lose, since last time they didn’t mind dissecting every goal and pass.
