Page 70 of My Best Years

“Yeah,” I mumble. “Sorry about that. I was in my bedroom when I heard my phone ringing from the kitchen.”

“Are you off work today?”

“Yup. Today is one of the few Fridays that I’m not on the schedule. What about you?”

“Oh, that’s nice,” he replies. “And yeah, I’m working, unfortunately. But I was actually calling to see if you wanted to get lunch today.”

Suddenly, I feel all bubbly at the thought of spending more time with him.

I look down at the pearl of sweat rolling down my stomach and watch it disappear into the waistband of my shorts.

“I would love that,” I sigh. “But I’m about to call maintenance to come to my apartment. And I have no idea how long it will take.”

“Why?” he asks, concern lacing his tone. “What’s going on?”

“Something is wrong with the air conditioning,” I grumble. “My room is the only area in my apartment that coolsoff. Which means my kitchen and living room are hotter than Satan’s asshole at all times.”

I hear him snort before letting out a throaty laugh.

“It’s not funny, Cal. I’m living in hell here.”

“No, no, no,” he recovers. “I don’t think it’s funny. But… Hotter than Satan’s asshole? That’s pretty fucking funny. I can’t say that I’ve heard that one before.”

My lips curve in a smile at the sound of his deep chuckle.

“Well, it’s the truth.”

“Damn, that sucks… Why don’t you let me come check it out before you call maintenance?”

“Oh, no,” I shake my head. “I can’t ask you to do that. Plus, you’re working today.”

“It’s no big deal. I basically make my own schedule,” he adds. “Unless I have to be in court, I’m on my own timeline. I’m just working from home today and catching up on emails. I can come over anytime.”

Now that I think about it, it would be nice not to have to call maintenance. I would have to schedule my entire day off around them. Who knows, they might not even be available today. And I can’t go through another twenty-four hours of this insufferable heat.

“Really?” I ask. “You wouldn't mind?”

“Not at all,” he replies. “I can’t promise I’ll be able to fix it, but I’ll try my best. One of the many things I’ve learned as a homeowner is to try and figure shit out on my own before calling a contractor. That shit is expensive.”

I’m thankful that Callum can’t see me through the phone because the thought of him doing manual labor in my apartment has me tugging my bottom lip between my teeth.

“If you’re sure it’s not a bother, I would really appreciate the help.”

I can’t believe I’m about to have Callum Pierce in my apartment.

Hell, if someone would have told me six months ago that Callum would be calling me to grab lunch, I would have told them that they were out of their damn mind.

But…here we are.

“Iwantto help, Birdie.” His baritone voice elongates my name in a way that has my lower abdomen tightening. “Plus, I can’t stand the thought of you sitting around in that hot apartment. Just tell me when you’re ready for me, and I’ll head that way.”

Maybe it’s because I’m an avid romance reader, but I can’t help how my heart clenches at his protectiveness.

“The sooner, the better. I feel like it’s only getting warmer by the second.”

“I’m heading that way now,” he says the instant the words leave my lips. Nervous jitters fill my stomach when I hear the jiggle of his keys. “Can you text me your address?”

“Yes, I’ll send it over now.”

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