Page 185 of We Can't Be Friends

“Hey, you tried,” Cal whispers, then kisses my cheek. His hand is around my waist protectively, and he squeezes my side.

“I can’t believe I dated that asshole,” I say, not caring that Seth can hear.

They break their public display of infidelity. Pulling her behind him, Seth levels up in front of me.

“Dated me? What about dating you?” Seth laughs, each one a sharp dagger. “You’re a slut.” He keeps at his menacing laugh, words slurring together. “And a hypocrite. Getting mad at me for cheating when you were doing it the entire time. Did you blow him while I was in town?” His gaze lifts to Cal, whose fists are balled at his side behind me. “I should be thanking you for taking her off my hands, but I’m sorry.”

“Watch how you speak to her.”

“Speak to her? You know, there was only one way to shut her up. Even then, she was heartless and empty.”

Flynn comes up to the bar, and Cal nods at him. I’m assuming he’s communicating to get security.

“At least he knows how to shut me up better than you did.” Cal pinches my side. I know what Seth was insinuating and I shouldn’t react, but I’ve been known to have a short fuse. “Call me a slut again because when you point the finger at me, there’s three pointing back at you.”

“I’ll call you whatever I want, whore.”

“That’s it.” Cal steps around me. He bunches Seth’s shirt near his pec, pulling him to him. “It’s time for you to leave here and Chloe alone. Try to speak with her or cause shit again and I won’t be as nice next time. She can handle you herself, but now I’m handling you.” Giving him a quick scare, Cal keepsgoing. “You’re a piece of shit. A fucking prick. Never speak about a woman the way you do. Calling them whores? It’s disrespectful and degrading. Be a man. Be better.” Cal shoves him back down on the ground.

Security is behind Tamara and Seth.

“Did he drive here?” Cal asks Tamara. She nods. “Take his keys and put them in a room on me. He’s not driving tonight,” Cal addresses security.

With eyes on us from the closest tables, they are exited out.

“Thank you,” I whisper. Grateful that he’s watching out for others on the road in addition to me.

Cal hugs me tightly. “I’m sorry he said that about you.”

“You don’t need to apologize for him.”

“I do. I know you’ll never get an apology from him or whatever pricks you were with before that or a male who catcalls you on the street, but I can apologize for them. And I can promise to never treat you that way, Chloe.”

53

CALLUM

“This was your best dish yet.” Chloe is scraping the plate with her fork. “Might be my favorite thing you’ve ever made.”

“Even over that wild mushroom soup last week?”

She groans, eyes closed. “Don’t remind me.” Chloe passes me her plate over the kitchen island. For having an expensive dining room table, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten at it more than once. We usually are curled up on the couch or at the counter. “I can’t pick. . . and don’t make me.”

“I know my favorite meal.”

Chloe blushes. “Doesn’t count, you didn’t make it.”

“It was still designed perfectly for me. Favorite flavor ever.”

Her blush deepens as she stands from the stool. “Let me help you clean.”

My head tilts, giving her a look that says, ‘we both know better than to let you do that.’

“Yeah, okay, you’ll just come behind me and redo it.” Pointing over her shoulder, she adds, “I’m going to go change. I have a surprise for you. Come upstairs in twenty?”

My dishes have never been cleaned faster.

Chloe isn’t in her room when I go upstairs. My bedroom door is open, a light breeze comes from where the door to the balcony is also open.

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