Page 38 of We Can't Be Friends

Emerson braids a small section of my hair. “I can promise you he isn’t. And set rules. Tell him you want to be able to see or sleep with other people.” She scrunches her lips, brows furrow with anidea. “Or sleep with him. It’s not that serious, and knowing Cal, he doesn’t date, so it’s not like he will fall for you.”

“He is fun to hang out with.” That’s an understatement. “And nice.” Another understatement. “And attractive.”

I’m doing a solid job at underselling Callum to myself. I already know that I enjoy his company. He’s hot. Probably the most attractive man I’ve laid eyes on.

Emerson snickers.

“What?”

“I don’t care what you say about wanting to swear off men, the look on your face says you want to fu—”

“It does not.”

“Whatever you say, Chlo.”

10

CALLUM

Save me a dance tonight?

CHLOE: I don’t dance

I’ll teach you

CHLOE:Let me rephrase that. I don’t dance with boys.

Good thing I’m a man

CHLOE: TBD

Trying to find out?

CHLOE: Some mysteries are better left unsolved

What are you wearing tonight?

CHLOE: Trying to coordinate?

No,only boys do that

“Hey,” Liam and I greet Chloe and Natalie as we enter the roped-off section on the outskirts of the club.

The section is complete with a curved couch, matching oversized chairs, and a table in the center. It’s nothing like the places in London. Still sick, though, with two floors, a DJ at the front of a dance floor, and a large bar that takes up an entire wall.

Clubs are all the same to me nowadays though, not my scene. Girls are better found at bars or restaurants.

Or in the bathroom of your best friend’s apartment.

I wasn’t entirely excited about tonight after Emerson called to invite me. Then Chloe texted me, asking if Liam and I would come. She’s meddling in their relationship, and whatever outcome comes out of tonight, I am not to be blamed, but I will gladly watch.

Chloe stands and walks over to us, but I watch as Natalie doesn’t. She stays seated and nods at Liam, her face not faltering from its stoic expression. Pulls out her phone, the light not casting a friendly glow on her face, to probably post a story or video. She’s an influencer.

“Hey.” Chloe goes in for a hug. “Thanks for coming.”

I give her a squeeze, kissing either cheek. “You look—”

She raises her eyebrows.

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