Page 18 of We Can't Be Friends

“Are you sure?” I go to pick up the cups, Cal notices, again, and beats me to them. “I’ve got those.”

“I don’t needyourhelp.”Be nice, Chloe.

“Too bad.” He’s quick, snatching the cups. “I, too, was running to Emerson’s. Say morning, check on her.”

“Liar.” My right brow raises.

“Come on, Henry. We can get to know each other more.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

Cal leans forward, our noses inches from each other. His headphones hang around his neck. The low hum of a pop punk song I know every word to emanates from them. “I don’t know, but you know you want to. Be friends with me, Henry,” he taunts.

“Give me my coffee.” I open my palm for him to place it in it.

He smiles, a second dimple appearing on his left cheek. It’s dangerous how intoxicating Cal’s smile is. He knows he’s right.

Tucker finishes his pup cup. His golden snout covered in the white cream from the sides of his cup. He’s trying to lick it off, stretching his bright pink tongue as far it can go, when he notices Cal.

Tucker doesn’t like Seth—which should have been a telltale sign that Seth isn’t who I thought he was, but Tucker also hasn’t liked any guy I’ve brought home—so it surprises me when he walks right up to Cal.

“Tucker, stop.” He wipes his face on Cal’s athletic shorts.

Remnants of the whipped cream is stretched right across the upper thigh of his shorts.

“I’m sorry,” I say, embarrassed, reaching for the napkins I used to clean up myself earlier. I lean forward, swiping the brown paper napkin over the spots.

His hand wraps around my wrist. “Henry.”

I open my eyes. All the way.

Shit.

“I’m so sorry,” I say again for a different reason.

My eyes aren’t puffy anymore. My skin no longer cold. Heat is prickling my cheeks.

I stand up quickly, flustered.

I don’t get flustered with men.

So why am I flustered right now?

Cal’s hand is still wrapped around my wrist, fingers on my rapid pulse, the napkin clutched in my fist.

“If you want to touch, just ask.” He takes the napkins out of my hand, finishing cleaning himself up. Crumpling the napkins up, he shoots them into the trash can. “I’d say yes.”

“Call us even?”

“We aren’t even close to even, Henry.” Cal smolders before slowly softening his features. “Who is this cutie?”

“Don’t feed his ego. Might end up as big as yours.” Cal ignores my comment, petting Tucker’s head. “That’s Tucker.”

“He likes me.”

“Unfortunately.”

Unfortunately, me too. He’s impossibly hard not to like.

---