“Strange, how?”
“Well, she curled her hair. And she’s wearing lip gloss.”
“Date?”
“Work. She’s meeting some guy from school to plan a fundraiser.” I shrug. But Callum laughs. “What?”
Cal walks over to me, standing right in front of me, and my heart decides it’s a dead fish flapping on the dry ground. Sure, it probably needs to be thrown back into the sea, but it happens to like dry land, flapping uncontrollably on the ground without reason to breathe.
Callum laughs. “With all your love for the movies and romance, you aren’t great at spotting clues.”
“Clues? What clues? What do you mean by clues?” Is he giving me a clue right now? If so… I’m missing it.
“Yeah. Clues,” he says. “She likes him.”
“She likes who? Who is she?” He has lost me.
Another low chuckle rumbles from Callum’s throat. He reaches out, tugging lightly on the ends of my hair. “Rosalie likesthis guy from work. Why else would she get dressed up for him? Why else would she curl her hair? She seemed agitated, probably because she’s unsure about his feelings. She’s nervous.”
I gasp and cover my mouth with my hand. He’s right. He’s right, and I didn’t see it. “I’m so stupid!” I say. “All this time, I sort of thought she was crushing on Zev.”
He laughs. “Not stupid,” he says, and with the words, his hand cups my cheek. “Maybe a little innocent.”
“Are you calling me naïve?” I say, but I don’t take my face from his hold. No… the dead fish flapping around on the Tesoro beach in my gut likes his hand there.
“I’m calling you idealistic and pure-hearted. And”—he gives me one cringy smile—“maybe a tiny bit inexperienced.”
“You’re so lucky I’m not in the mood to kick your butt.” That the floppy fish inside of me would much rather snuggle than fight.
Callum’s thumb traces once below my left eye, just before he drops his hand to his side. “Movie?”
I sigh. I couldn’t stop it if I tried. “Fine, but Callum,” I say, pressing one hand to his chest and peering seriously into his eyes, “Pride and Prejudiceis one of the best romance stories of all time. You are not allowed to fall asleep during this film.”
“And if I do?”
“I will pinch you.”
“You’re going to pinch me?” he says with a disbelieving laugh.
I give him a serious, pointed stare. I mean business. He should know it. “Hard. Very hard.”
“You wouldn’t—” he starts, which is why I am forced to do what I do next.
Reaching out, I skate my hand down to his stomach—whoa, it’s a nice ride—and seize hold of the tiniest portion of skin. Where is the man’s loose skin? I barely get a piece of him. Still, I pinch what I do snag.Hard.
“Hey!” he yells, pushing his hands down his stomach and dislodging my hold on him. “That hurt.”
“That is your warning pinch.”
Callum’s still rubbing his stomach. “What about the cuckoo?”
“It goes in Rosalie’s room during movie nights. I’ll wrap a blanket around his house.”
He grunts. Callum does not get along with Rosalie’s clock.
“Ready?” I ask.
Mr. Darcy has already proposed,Lizzie has refused, and while Callum is obediently watching, I am distracted.
