Oh yeah. Cause Esme dressed me. She wanted me to lookhappy, not here for your bullshit,and that meant wearing a denim overall dress and a black crop top under it with my high-top chucks and my laces tied around my ankles. I did like this style though. It felt fun, flirty, yet modest enough for someone who didn’t show a lot of skin.
I still couldn’t believe I was getting coffee with Callum. It felt like… we’d broken up and were trying to remain friends. I mean, it wasn’t far off from the truth. We were best friends andstopped talking. I spoke to him every day for a decade and then… nothing.
Yeah, because the stuff with his dad was big! I hated that he’d never told me, and I hated that he kept it from me all this time. He needed me. A cold thought interrupted me. He didn’t, clearly, because he’d stopped coming into my life.
Damnit. Sweat pooled on my forehead, and I used a napkin to dab it off. I had nothing to be nervous about. Maybe we’d just talk? Ask normal questions?
The bell rang, signaling the door opening, and my breath caught in my throat when Callum entered. He wasn’t one to walk. He strutted. He made the world his bitch and loved it. He ran a hand through his hair, his intense gaze moving around the small coffee shop until it landed on me.
I bolted up.
Why?Why did I stand? Ugh. My face heated as his face lit up. He looked happy to see me. Super happy. It reminded me of the time I surprised him in his bedroom for his birthday. I decorated it with decorations from his favorite movie (Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back) and jumped out from the closet. He laughed so hard and smiled so wide I still remembered feeling like I was the coolest thing ever. We were also ten.
This felt like that.
“Hey,” he said, his attention moving from my eyes, hair, to my shoulders, chest, then my legs. His nostrils flared once before he shoved his hands into his pockets. “You look amazing.”
My skin buzzed at his perusal. I hope I looked good for him.
“Oh. Thanks. You too.” I jutted my chin toward his jeans and black T-shirt. Simple, yet perfect. The material clung to him, and I tried not to notice the strong pectoral muscles but failed. They seemed larger outside of the stadium where everyone was ripped or working out. Here, in this quaint coffee shop, he stood out.My skin buzzed with the urge to run a finger along the cords on his forearm. They were so evident and strong.
We stared at each other, neither of us saying a word. My heart galloped the longer the silence went on, my mind blank.
He gripped the back of his neck before extending his arm toward the counter. “This is on me, please. Unless you have something already?”
“Nope. I waited.” I glanced at my watch. “We’re both early,” I said, chuckling. “Some things never change.”
He joined my laugh. “I wish I could. I’d love to be one of those efficient people who show up with a minute to spare. I just can’t.”
“Well, you know I can’t either.”
He hummed a response as we waited in line. He stood near me, his body heat transferring to me. He smelled like aftershave and pine, the same as he always did. It was like his body projected this gorgeous, perfect scent that fit him so well. The familiar smell reminded me of long summer days and even longer nights, driving around the cornfields with the windows down. My heart skipped a beat before the reality of the situation clouded.
We weren’t those same people. I certainly wasn’t.
“Your favorite drink is the iced chai with oatmilk and extra cinnamon?”
I nodded, charmed he remembered. “You still straight black coffee with a splash of vanilla if you’re feeling spicy that day?”
“That’s me.” He placed a hand on my lower back, nudging me forward gently.
His hand covered half my back, and I gulped. For whatever reason, when strangers touched me, I hated it. I cringed or jumped back. But when Callum did, my body seemed to buzz with life. Even now, when I wasn’t sure I’d even forgiven him or trusted him again, I fought a smile.
He ordered for the both of us and handed over his card, his eyes dancing with amusement. I elbowed his side, curious. “Why do you have that expression on your face?”
“What look?” He raised his brows, smirking.
“Mischief.” I poked his side again. “Despite you avoiding me for three years, I know you, Callum O’Toole. Don’t forget that.”
Some of the light left his eyes, and he nodded, almost solemn. “I haven’t.”
Okay, awkward.
I hadn’t mean for the comment to be rude. Lies. Okay, maybe I did a little bit. We were getting a little too chummy for all that went down. It was like my guard shattered, and my mind caught up and commanded it to be rebuilt. Callum buying me coffee wasn’t going to change everything, but it was a good start. Plus, if we were going to try this friend-thing, I couldn’t play the hot and cold. Guilt ate at me as we grabbed our drinks and found a private table in the back. His dad confession really shook me. That had to take a toll. I sat in the booth portion, and he chose the chair.
His legs were so long his knees hit mine, and I nudged them. “Hey.”
He arched a brow. “Hm?”
