Page 101 of We Can't Be Friends

We stop speaking. The only sound coming from the piano. She leans her head on my shoulder as I play.

I think we might have already been tethered together, these broken pieces within us finding somewhere soft to land, but I can sense it right now. Feel the bond twisting further together. I’m hit with the realization that when the lights go out, when the world ends, I want Chloe to be standing there with me.

28

CHLOE

Last night before going to bed, I snuck into Cal’s room. He offered to take Tucker out for me so I knew this was my moment to strike.

Opening the middle drawer of his dresser, I found his T-shirts. I flipped through the stack before selecting one closer to the bottom. He probably knows the exact order each shirt is in and will notice this one missing, but hopefully he doesn’t.

I heard the front door open and I sprinted across the hallway, closing my bathroom door as quietly as possible. When I exited with a clean face, in his shirt and long socks, Tucker was waiting for me in bed.

Waking up, I feel refreshed but still lingering on this idea that Cal is crushing on me.

It’s cute. Really.

Obviously he kissed me, which could have been for a number of reasons, but yesterday? That locked the idea in my brain.

Now. . .it’s time for a little fun.

I walk down stairs, shoulders back, head held high.

He’s standing at the counter which overlooks the rest of the space. Tucker’s paws announce our presence. Cal picks his head up and does a double take when he sees me.

Eyes roam my body. Messy bun to socks and back up. They linger on the words printed across my chest.

His jaw ticks, the dusting of blond hair draws my gaze to it. Eyes flare with an electric blue.

“That’s my shirt,” he says, a husky gravel to his tone. Such an observant, smart guy.

I shrug casually. “Is it? Found it in my laundry.” My head tilts and I stroll past him to start making my espresso shots.

“It smells like me.”

I pick up the collar and smell it. Yeah it does, not that I minded all night or now. “That’s what that weird smell is.”

“Henry.” He’s leaning against the counter watching me.

“Sullivan.” I spin to face him. “It looks terrible on me, doesn’t it? Here.” Reaching for the hem, I start pulling it up my body fully aware that I only have underwear underneath.

“It doesn’t.” Callum shuts his eyes and I don’t know if he groans or whimpers. “Keep it.”

I drop the shirt. “Okay.” Laughing to myself, Cal tracks each of my movements. I take my latte and head to the stairs. “I’m going Christmas shopping today by the way.”

***

I’m Christmas shopping for Riley when I spot walkie-talkies. Dropping one package into my cart, I quickly grab a second.

Riley is going to love these, and I can already see how it will annoy Miller. Being an aunt is fun—I get all the joys of having a kid in my life, but I get to return him and not worry about punishing him. Miller keeps telling me not to corrupt the kid, but I can’t help it. I’ll teach him how to shotgun a beer (when age appropriate) and how to stand up to bullies—if there’s anything I’m certain about, it’s that I love him senselessly and will protect that boy no matter what.

Miller too.

And Callum.

That’s who the second set of walkies are for. I can’t wait to plant one in his room and scare him. It’s going to annoy him, stir up the calm and collected British boy with beautiful blue eyes, and I’ll love it.

I had to drop off the bags of toys before I went back out to run my other errands. Not having a car has its perks and downsides. I overbought at the store for Riley and didn’t have any arm space left to run the remainder of my errands.

---