Page 75 of We Can't Be Friends

My phone vibrates. Spinning it around, Emerson’s name lights up the screen and my face. She’s been gone barely two weeks and I miss her.

EMME: Checking in! How was your sleepover with Cal?

There was NO sleepover. I stayed in the guest room.

EMME::(

EMME: Come on, you know you want to at least once AND that he would comfort you in your time of need

Not true

EMME: sure…

BTW, I’m fine, going to my apartment now to find out the damage

EMME: Call me after <3 I can search apartments or whatever you need.

I find Cal sitting at the counter. A cup of tea in one hand, the newspaper in the other. He places the paper on the white marble, licking his finger, and then turning the page.

He’s extremely handsome. Rugged facial features and sandy blond hair recently trimmed close to his head. A dimple in his right cheek. Cal could have been pulled out of a GQ edition of Home and Garden sitting there. His dark jeans and gray T-shirt are fitted to his body.

Maybe another sleepover—with zero clothes—wouldn’t hurt.Chloe, focus—apartment.

“Good morning,” I say as I walk up next to him. Pulling out the bar stool and plopping down on it.

“Morning.” He sets down his mug. “Sleep well?”

“Restless.” I catch his eyes, concerned that I wasn’t comfortable. The bed was comfy, but I couldn’t get my mind to turn off. “It happens sometimes,” I quickly add for his assurance.

“And now?” I pop a shoulder. “Is there anything I can help with?”

“Yeah, actually.” I turn my body to face him, pulling my feet up to rest on the bar under the chair. “Would you come with me to my apartment? My landlord called and has an update but wants to meet in person. I figured that since you are in the building space, you’ll–”

He cuts me off with a small and quick laugh. “Building space? Yeah, you need me to come.”

“Are you sure?” I immediately backtrack, guilt swarming. “There’s a chance it could end up being an all-day affair if I need to pack it all up.”

“And if it is, I don’t mind spending all day with you.” Callum smiles casually.

“I bet you have other, more important plans than me,” I hesitantly reply. I should be accepting his yes for help, but for some idiotic reason, I’m trying to give him a way out. The last time I asked for help didn’t end well.

I really hope he doesn’t say no.

“None are as important as you.”

“What about if I say we need to leave now.” I give him a quick, tight smile.

“Still more important.” He finishes off his tea.

“And if I say you’re buying coffee?”

He calls after me as I jump off the stool to grab Tucker’s leash. “Shouldn’t that be the other way around?”

***

“Five to six months?” You’ve gotta be kidding me.

“What did you expect?” Jonathan asks.

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