“The first change you need to make is the kind of guys you’re dating. Your karaoke buddy and Paul certainly aren’t worth your time.”
My cheeks flush. “You don’t even know them.”
“I know enough to know that you’re too good for that nonsense,” he says.
My cheeks flame now. Has anyone ever thought me worth anything? Besides Rosalie, I mean. My parents never did, that’s for sure. Which is maybe why Ialwaysswipe right. I’ve never felt like I had a right to be picky about men—when they look at me, I’m the very definition of imperfection.
But here’s Callum telling me that’s wrong. That I am worth something.
I know it. Now. And in my own way. But apparently not enough to be picky with the men I date. Because if I’m being honest and admitting the truth, I haven’t been picky. I say yes to every Paul, Doug, and Lance without truly knowing them.
“We need to find men who are worth your time. But first, we’re going to test out a few of these remakes. It’s time to see what’s working and what isn’t.”
My heart pounds in my chest. Callum Whitaker wants to help me. He’s telling me I’m worth it. “What do you get out of this?”
He swallows and runs a hand over his chin. “I’m going to be completely transparent, and I don’t want you to take it wrong. Because I like you, Fran. I truly consider you a friend.” He blows out a sigh. “The thing is, I think youaremy lucky charm. Whenever I’m with you, I ease up, and Iplay better. My hope is that I will be of help to you, and in the process, just by the two of us being together, a little of your luck rubs off on me.”
“So, you want to hang out with me because I’m lucky? You believe I help you win?”
“And!” he quickly adds, his brows pinched as if in pain, as if he thinks he’s offended me. “Because we’re friends, and I really do think I might be able to help you out.”
It’s not just the team. Callum believes I’m his luck too.
I can’t say I mind it. In fact, it has a nice ring to it. Fran Fairchild: lucky charm.
But more than Cal’s lucky charm, more than him helping me get a man’s perspective, I have the chance to save Callum’s sad outlook on love. He’s giving me that chance without even realizing it. I can save Cal, the brokenhearted cynic.
“All right, Callum Whitaker.” I hold out my hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
Twenty-Four
I missed him.
He was gone two days, playing back to back games out of town. And I felt it.
So, when he suggested a practice date the day after his return, I happily accepted—not caring that it meant procrastinating working on my research paper for Ellington. Only Callum may need to be eased into my way of dating… So, I’m holding back tonight. I hope he appreciates it. I don’t just want to be his lucky charm; I want to make him believe in love again. What better way than a remake?
“I would have bought you dinner,” he says.
“You did buy me dinner, Callum.” I hold up my bag of Wendy’s—with a Frosty to boot.
“Um,” his nose wrinkles, “I don’t think this counts.”
I look at his salad and water, no Frosty in sight. “Well, yours doesn’t.”
“Hey, I ordered it with extra chicken. I’m in season. I can’t eat… that.” He nods toward my delicious but very greasy burger. “And you’re certain we can’t go inside? We have to eat from the car?”
“This will be easier. We can eat, list, and drive?—”
“Fran, you realize that makes no sense to me.”
“Right,” I say. “Context. Here’s what we’re doing.” I can’t even say the words without smiling because, man, I am so good. I am going to make Callum Whitaker a believer again. He was meant for love, and when I am done with him, he’s going to know it. “We are going to make a list of things we’ve always wanted to do but haven’t yet. And then…” I pause for dramatic effect. “We are going to do them!”
His brows furrow, unimpressed, and he takes one bite of his chicken salad. He chews slowly, then asks, “How long is this going to take?”
“As long as it takes. You can’t rush goodness.”
“I have practice tomorrow.”
