“We have.” We’ve also just hung out—on non-dates. “And getting a man’s perspective on my remakes has been helpful. I’ve learned a lot.”
Rosalie grunts.
“Are you okay, Rose?” I peer at her through the mirror. “You seem a little?—”
She blows out a tired puff of air. “When do you leave for California?”
“The end of the week.” My heart leaps as I think about the upcoming trip. I’m meeting Callum’s family. Something I’ve never done before. It’s thrilling and terrifying—all at once.
Rosalie opens the bathroom drawer and pulls out my tube of plush pink lip gloss. I don’t mind. I haven’t touched it since I switched to red. But Rose doesn’t wear a lot of makeup. Or any makeup besides a little mascara. And I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her in lip gloss.
She spreads the shiny balm over her lips as if she’s been doing it her whole life though. She is a pro. And that pink is kind of amazing on her.
“That looks great on?—”
But she cuts me off, her tone on edge. “I know you like him, Fran. And you know that I will kick his trash if he hurts you.”
I shake my head. “Why? You like Callum too?—”
“Not as much as you do.”
I scoff. “Well, you didn’t kick Doug’s butt. Or Paul’s butt, or Gary’s butt, or Austin’s?—”
“Okay! Stop with the butts!” She tosses the gloss into the sink, facing me, hands on hips. “I didn’t kick their butts because you weren’t completely smitten with them!”
My BFF is officially on edge today.
“Hey—I was completely smitten over thatTitanicremake. Do you have any idea what I had to do to get the captain of that boat on board? And Gary?”
Her shoulders fall. “You were smitten with the remake. Not the guy. This is different.”
I cinch my brows. “Rose?—”
Rosalie huffs. “I can see how invested you are—not in just your remake, but him. And Fran, I love that you’ve found someone who makes you think more about the guy and less about the remake, but—” She reaches out, taking my hand in hers. “You consistently tell me he has no interest in falling in love, all while you are falling fast and hard. That’s arecipe for heartbreak. And I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt.”
But things are changing. Yes, I’m Callum’s luck. Yes, he’s my male perspective. But I’ve also had the secret design of making Cal believe in love again. And before that giant C killed my grade-point average, I was certain it was working. I still want to be. He said I made him forget at times—forget that he’s given up on love. Isn’t that a good sign? Doesn’t that mean something… And the truth is, either way, I want to be here with Callum. I want all the time he’s willing to give me.
“I’ll be fine,” I tell her, then wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her in for a hug. I peer at the two of us in this bathroom mirror. “But areyouokay? You look amazing, but you seem a little?—”
“I’m fine! I just have this work thing, and it’s—” She rolls her head and shrugs but never finishes her sentence.
The bell to our apartment rings, giving her the out she needs.
“I have to go. And it sounds like Callum’s here,” she says. “If you like him, and we both know you do, you should tell him. Be transparent, Fran. He needs to know what he’s dealing with.”
Everything I do tells Callum I like him. Don’t actions speak louder than words?
I’m thinking, and when I don’t move, Rosalie walks past me, out the bathroom. I follow her, but she’s too fast. With the mood she’s in, I have no idea how she’ll greet Callum. And I want to keep hanging out with my hot, overgrown soccer player.
“Hey, Rose,” I hear Callum say. My heart leaps with the sound of his voice. Perfectly normal leaping!
“Goodbye, Cal,” she deadpans, giving him the evil eye.Ugh. I know she considers Callum a friend. So, why does she have to look at him like that?
I stand in the middle of the living room, waiting for Callum to enter, wishing I’d brushed my teeth again. But then that’s silly. We’re going to be eating popcorn and hot tamale candies, not making out in the refrigerator. I mean, unless I can figure out how to get us back in that fridge…
“What’s up with her?” he asks. His hair has grown since we first met. He’s not ready for a Zevulun man-bun. But I like the way it curls around his ears.
I blink, realizing I’ve been thinking about hair and not answering Cal’s question. “I’m not really sure.” I peer at the closed door behind him, the one Rosalie just went through. “She was acting strange.”
