Page 16 of Because of Her

She jolts up and darts across to the kitchen stove, wheretwo big pots sit. Cooking is Amira’s love language, and on days like these, I’m glad she loves me.

“Pomegranate chicken.” She lifts the lid of one pot, sticks her nose in, and gives it a stir. Using the wooden spoon she pats the second pot. “And wild rice.” Even with my limited knowledge about cooking, I know she can’t remove the lid until the rice is fully cooked. Something about water absorption and not wanting the rice to end up gluggy.

“Drink?” She walks to the fridge and pulls out one of my favourite watermelon seltzers. “Another beer, Cal?”

Cal?Since when were Amira and Callum close enough for abbreviations? But also, I’m sure he used to hate being called that. He used to say it was reserved for special people only. I was the only one at work allowed to shorten his name. I pivot to face Amira in the kitchen, my eyes wide with shock and question. She smirks, and I’m hit with a pang of unease. It feels like jealousy, but I force the emotion away, knowing it has no place in our friendship.

“Please,” he calls out from the couch.

Amira hands me both drinks with a wink before sitting down on her favourite red dining chair. I stand, stunned for a few seconds before Amira adds an extra nod towards the couch. Turning, I pass Callum his drink. A thin pink band stretches around his wrist, out of place next to his plain black tee. My eyes linger on it, trying to figure out the odd fashion statement. If I took a guess, I’d say it’s a hair tie, but his hair is too short to need one.

I sit at the opposite end of the couch. Pulling my grandma’s knit blanket onto my lap, I curl my legs underneath me.

“You’re just in time,” Amira states, “dinner will be ready in about five more minutes.”

“I could smell it from across the hall.” Callum’s voice is low, almost a growl, and he looks like he might start drooling.

“Get used to it.” Laughing, I stretch my leg out to gentlykick his thigh. He catches my foot, and when I try to pull it back he holds tight. I regret my playfulness, until he presses his fingers into my aching muscles, massaging my calf. Although he used to rub my feet all the time, the intimacy feels intense after so long of not knowing one another. But my legs are sore after a long day on my feet, and the massage is welcome. I stretch the other leg up as well, encouraging him to continue.

“Why Rogue?” Amira questions as we eat.

“From an old game we used to play. I called her Rogue, she called me Master.”

Amira chokes on her rice. “I don’t want to know what kind of kinky games you guys were playing as teenagers.”

I kick her shin under the table. The game was about as innocent as they come, never mind the double entendre.

“It was nothing,” I mutter, stuffing my face with food.

The rest of the evening feels comfortable, familiar in a way it shouldn’t after one week. It’s as though Callum never left my life.

I snort at the thought, and when the two of them look up in sync, I try to brush it off as a bit of food down the wrong pipe. Sitting, eating, and chatting with Callum has brought back all levels of nostalgia, along with all kinds of inappropriate thoughts.

Like what other kind of spots he could massage with those strong fingers of his, or how close my feet were to his crotch and whether he had a foot fetish. I push my hands into my eyes and try to get the thoughts out of my head.

After dinner, we return to the couch. Without intention, my legs end up back in Callum’s lap. Fighting thereturn of the inappropriate thoughts from earlier, I attempt to shift my focus.

“So, Cass,” Amira says, before I have a chance to think of an appropriate conversation topic.

I glance at her with raised eyebrows. I know that voice.

Taking a deep breath she adds, “Remember how you swore off men and I said I wasn’t going to date anyone?” She laughs, and I feel Callum’s hands slow down and hesitate. “Well I have to take it back.”

I gasp in feigned shock, knowing all along her vow of celibacy was never going to last.

“I have a date to go on.” She leans back on her chair with a smirk. Of course she does.

My eyebrows drop as I roll my eyes at her.

“Is this normal for her?” Callum turns to ask me. His hands have stopped massaging and I wonder if I should take my feet from his lap.

“Pretty much. She goes on a date, has a terrible time, probably sleeps with them anyway, then swears off dating when they don’t call her. Rinse, repeat.”

“I do not sleep with themall.” Amira folds her arm across her face.

“You sleep with enough of them that I sleep with earplugs so I won’t get jealous.”

Callum clears his throat, his eyes flashing between us as we bicker.

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