He ran a hand over his face, his other relaxing on the wheel. He looked wicked hot like that, his right arm muscles directly in front of me. “We hooked up.”
“Yes, gathered that.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “She thought we were together. I didn’t. She thought, assumed, misinterpreted what we were. I don’t…I fuck around, alright? I don’t do emotions or promises. I’m a three-night guy, nothing more. She wanted to change that about me.”
Three-night guy.
Interesting.I chewed my lip, already imagining how that would feel to be his for three nights. Passionate, wild. For sure. I squeezed my thighs together, the scenes flashing in my head not good for being in a car with Cal. I’d seen his chest, his muscles, his arms. His hands were so big and talented… I shivered.
“I can turn the air down.”
“Oh, no, I’m not cold.” My voice came out hoarse and needy. He snapped his head toward me, and I cleared my throat. “Just thinking about the bees.”
More like the birds and the bees.
After a minute of forcing myself not to imagine him in bed, I realized I’d never responded about Sherry. “If you communicated with her about all of it and she refused to listen, then it’s not your fault. That’s on her.”
“I did. I always do.”
“Then she chose not to listen to your wants, so don’t you feel bad for a second.”
“She hoped for more, and I don’t domore.”
Listen to that, Elle! Doesn’t. Do. More.It hurt because that damn little flicker of hope still remained, that he would change… for me… someday, but I’d be foolish like Sherry thinking I could change him. That I’d be enough for him.
He shrugged, his jaw tightening again. “I’m sorry you saw that though. It was embarrassing.”
“Calzone, we’ve both seen each other in a lot of ways.”Not naked though.“No reason to be embarrassed. I freak out at bees, you at feelings. Maybe this friendship is a great fit.”
He nodded, giving me a reassuring smile, even though the words seemed weird to say. It felt like a lie, especially now that I wished my date was with Cal andnotTy. It wasn’t fair to anyone to have those thoughts. Not to Ty, myself, or Cal. We all were up front about things and to ignore them would be cruel. Rationally, being friends with Cal was the right choice, but a small (opinionated) voice in the back of my head wanted more. I wanted him towantto do more with me, but that wasn’t how life worked outside of fiction. Cal refused to have feelings, and I was a girl who needed lots of them, which was why we were never meant to be.
CHAPTER
TWELVE
Cal
Since the greenhouse, things between Elle and I were normal. I snuck looks at her at the bar, made sure to walk her home, and I hadn’t done anything to upset her. Three days of peace. I even felt a flicker of excitement at the thought of meeting up to discuss our deal—she’d bring me a book, and I’d give her a money assignment.
I’d spent hours creating a PowerPoint with interactive slides on what she could do first—track her absolute must-spend items, the nice-to-have items, and things she didn’t need. She had to write it all down for an entire week and go back three months to see what she’d spent money on. She also had to log the cash tips she made. It was easy to spend cash because once it was gone, there was no trace of it. That was a trick from my mom. She spent all her cash from delivering pizzas on tattoos one summer, and her grandpa almost disowned her.
Another nice memory without the looming sadness. I ran my hand over my left forearm. My mom had sick tattoos, quotes and random images from her favorite albums. I always thoughtabout getting one, but it hurt to think about what image signaled my parents. I couldn’t pick one and then I’d spiral. But now…I could find a song lyric or an album they liked. I shifted nervously in the chair at the café with the croissants and watched the time. It was a minute until ten, and she wasn’t there.
She might’ve forgotten. Which was fine. It was Monday morning, and she probably wanted to sleep. It wasn’t like I could text her since we’d never shared numbers. How was that even possible? She meant more to me than almost everyone I knew, and I’d never bothered to ask her damn number? What if something happened to her and she couldn’t tell me? What if she needed me? I itched my chest and bounced my knee up and down.
The door opened, and she strolled in. Relief flowed through me.She’s okay.She was better than the sunrise in the morning. My pulse sped up, and I had the strangest urge to stand up until she sat down, to show respect. I hadn’t seen her since late Saturday night, and I missed her smiling face.
I had Elle withdrawal after one day.
“Hey!” She held four brown packages against her chest and wore an old baseball cap with a hockey logo. Her plain white shirt hung off one shoulder, and a yellow strap teased me. God, was she wearing a yellow bra?
I had to fucking know.
She tilted her head, brows scrunched. “You alright?”
“Yeah, sorry. Sit.” I gestured to the chair, and she plopped down, pushing her long hair over one shoulder. The movement let me smell her shampoo, and I breathed in the floral scent, discreetly. We were in a good zone right now, and I refused to ruin it. “I ordered four flavors for us.”
“Oh.” She set the packages on the chair between us and clapped her hands. “Want to go splitzees? Half of each one?”
