Page 132 of We Can't Be Friends

My phone buzzes again, the notification for the elevator doors are opening.

I adjust the straps of the bralette, tightening them to push up my boobs, not that they need it. Climbing onto the counter, I lay on my side. Crossing and uncrossing my legs, trying to find the most comfortable but hot position.

The keys in the door have me scrambling, deciding right over left, my head resting on my elbow.

Maybe we won’t evenmake it upstairs. Right here is perfectly fine by me. Legs wrapped around him while I’m seated on the counter or bent over.

“Welcome home, Pretty Boy,” I say as the door opens.

My mouth falls open. Eyes wide.

No. No. No, oh no.

I’m frozen in embarrassment, and I never get embarrassed.

39

CALLUM

“How does it feel to be back?” I ask Emerson.

“Surreal,” she stammers. “It’s the last time Chicago will be my home.” She glances up at Liam, their hands intertwined as we exit the elevator. “Legal home,” she corrects herself. The sparkle in her green eyes increases as they gaze at each other. “You’ve always been home,” she says to him as he leans down to pepper her face with kisses.

A realization that I’ll potentially be forever alone floods my system.

I’ll never find what they have. I’ll never be good enough for what they have.

“All you do is mess around. No girl is ever going to want that.”

“If you were more like your brothers, you wouldn’t be single at thirty. Pathetic.”

Pathetic.

That’s what I am: pathetic.

Desperate for someone to notice me. See me, the Callum I am underneath all the layers, as enough for them instead of how I’ve painted myself—a masterpiece crafted by other people’s impressions and expectations.

Chloe Henry glides into my mind. Her own carefully designed and composed facade, the one she wears like you wear your favorite T-shirt or reread your comfort book. The one she’s slipped out of, shedding to show me her at her core.

There are moments when we are together when I think she sees me, that she cares for me how I care for her. That I’m here first choice.

Liam unlocks and opens the door for Emerson. I trail behind them, letting them surprise her.

“Chloe!” Emerson yelps. That has me sprinting down the hallway and into the entryway.

I peek over her shoulder, catching why she shrieked. Emerson slaps her hands across Liam’s face, covering his eyes.

I have to bite my knuckle at the sight of her.

Throat dry. All words lost from my repertoire.

I step around Emerson and Liam. She’s leading him to the hallway that goes to their room.

Chloe’s body is like a baby giraffe walking for the first time as she tries to scurry off the counter. I catch her waist, assisting her. She’s mouthing,oh my gosh, over and over again.

I turn our bodies, using mine to block hers from our best friends.

Licking my lips, I lean down to her ear. “Please keep this on, but maybe go slip something over it. We’ve got company.” I slip a finger into the skinny strap of the underwear and snap it.

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