Page 6 of Because of Her

My heart stops. Standing across the hall from me with a large box propped against his hip, is Callum Wilson.

I feel dizzy. Reaching a hand back to Amira to steady myself, I glance between the two of them, knowing social conventions dictate I do something here, but my brain doesn’t work. It isn’t sending signals to my arms or face or mouth. With no rational thought telling my limbs what to do, they fall in on themselves. Pins and needles race up from my toes, my lip quivers, and my hand clings to the front of Amira’s loose top.

I haven’t seen Callum in more than ten years, but he is still as drop-dead gorgeous as I remember. Reaching above his head, he rests an arm on the door frame. While my body runs a sprint against itself, Callum’s is casual and relaxed. Only a hint of surprise can be seen in the way his wide eyes reflect the fluorescent light tube above us.

As he allows a fraction of his weight to hang, the muscles in his forearm bulge. My gaze darts over him, pausing on the dragon curling down from his elbow. His tight t-shirtshows off the muscular shoulders Amira and I had admired like creeps from the balcony. Up close, I can’t take my eyes off the way his muscles flow down into edible pecs, then to perfectly defined abs and finally to the ‘v’ that draws my attention further down.

I can’t help but compare his physique to Mike’s. Where Mike was over the top gym buff and looked stiff all over, Callum looks fit but somehow cosy, like I could sink into him and be subjected to the kind of hug I’ve only ever read about.

“Cassidy?”

His voice is gruff, not as loud and boisterous as I remember, but it still holds the deep rumble that haunts my dreams. His face twists into something between a grin and a smirk. Smaller than the grins I remember from our youth, but it still reaches his eyes, making the steel blue sparkle.

“Callum, hi.” I wave, feeling a little like the shy, awkward teenager he must remember. Shit, I suppose I still am a shy, awkward teenager to him. Here I am, stumbling over my words, waving to a man no more than a metre away from me and solidifying that impression. “Um, this is Amira.”

I shove my best friend in front of Callum, hoping her outgoing personality will hide my mixed emotions. She nods politely and turns back to me. “Definitely calling dibs.”

Her faux whisper screeches across the hall, but it’s the harsh “no” that escapes my lips that shocks me. I don’t blame her for attempting to claim the man, but God, what I wouldn’t give to be that box propped on his hip. To feel his arms wrapped around me, supporting my weight while I rest around his waist.

I suck in the thought, spluttering on the sharp inhale and choking on a bead of saliva.Didn’t I just swear off men? Didn’t the man in front of me break my heart ten years ago?Ishouldn’t be thinking about wrapping my legs around him, or how safe I would feel in his arms.

Callum sees through my soul as he rakes his eyes over me. The tingle of a blush spreads up my neck.

Despite not seeing him since I was a teenager, despite the way his absence hurt me so deeply and the long-term relationship I’d been in since then, Callum still takes my breath away. I wonder how I ever managed to maintain a friendship with the man standing in front of me.

I’d met Callum and all his broad-shouldered, strong-armed goodness when I was fifteen and working at the local supermarket. Somehow, he had seen past my raging teenage hormones, and we’d become friends. Good friends. In the three years we worked together, he became my safe place. I dreaded work when he wasn’t rostered on and lived for the days our shifts collided. I told him all my deepest secrets, except the one where I found him unbearably attractive.

Callum lets out a loud exhale, the kind of half laugh half snort that says he clearly heard Amira. He shrugs and brings his arm down to run a hand through his dark scruffy hair. The adjustment makes his tight black t-shirt hug his bicep, and it rises above the waist of his pants just enough to make my mouth water. He smirks again, raising his eyebrows as if knowing exactly what the movement was doing to my insides.

I cough, spluttering, before composing myself. “So, you’re our new neighbour?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he grunts. I melt. I’m in trouble.

“Well.” Amira takes over, picking up on my stuttering. “We were just going to grab dinner, if you want to come?”

I cough again, choking on more of the saliva in my mouth. Heat rushes up to my ears and I’m sure my whole face goes pink. It’s hard to compose myself around Callum, and I wonder how I survived my teenage years around him.I would have stuck his poster on the wall next to Justin Bieber if I’d been able to.

Every time he would come to hang at my house, I would create imaginary scenarios where he would have to stay the night and share my bed. I mentally wrote my own fanfiction romance story where we were the main characters and ‘only one bed’ was the defining trope. But, somehow, I managed to keep my senseless attraction at bay while we hung out, and we had a close friendship for many years.

“Or we could bring you back some?” Amira adds.

“Ahh yeah sure, I was going to get UberEats, but if you’re offering?”

“Italian okay?” Amira lists off some classic dishes, not knowing the menu of the new restaurant.

“Lasagne,” he answers. “I don’t have cash though?”

“It’s okay.” She laughs, patting his arm. “I know where you live.”

And with a wink, she turns to walk down the hallway, leaving me to lock up. I’m still in shock; my mouth is dry and it feels as though I’m wearing lead shoes. Although Amira’s quick thinking with the dinner delivery got me out of Callum’s immediate attention, her swift exit has left me alone with him.

“Ahh, good to see you again,” I manage, as I glance down the hall towards Amira.

“You too, Rogue.” Callum’s deep voice as he utters my old nickname melts away the tiny fraction of composure I had left. “I suspect I’ll be seeing a lot more of you now?”

Avoiding his piercing gaze, I scrape out something resembling a ‘yes’ before tripping over my own feet as I chase Amira down the hall. Like the best friend I’ve always known her to be, she stretches her arms out to catch me, disguising my tumble as a friendly embrace.

In the street, Amira and I settle into a steady pace. There is little warmth left in the sun as it sets, and the southerly breeze is cool off the water. I can tell Amira’s cold by the way her arms are wrapped around her middle. That, and the fact she is power walking down the street.

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