Page 76 of It's in the Contract
“Callie, I?—”
“Hold on,” I interrupt. “I’m watching the butter.”
“You’re watching the butter?”
There it is! The butter blossoms into brown, and I quickly take the pan off the stove and pour the butter into my mixing bowl, where I’ve already measured brown and white sugar.
“Perfect!” I say.
“Do you need any help?” Zeke asks. “What can I do?”
“Add two teaspoons of vanilla to that, and two eggs and two egg yolks.” I lose myself in the baking process, and Zeke’s nothing but helpful. We make the dough for the chocolate chip cookies, bake the cinnamon rolls, and whip the cream cheesefrosting. The tension in the air gradually dissipates, and things feel comfortable. Friendly. I’m starting to wonder if I imagined the movie night hand holding. But then I notice the way Zeke studiously avoids touching me, going out of his way to avoid contact when he hands me a wooden spoon or a cup of flour.
He works on dishes in the sink while I unwrap a small mountain of Rolos for the caramel-stuffed double chocolate cookies. “This is going to take forever,” I say. “I was too ambitious. I always think I can bake more than I actually can. We might not be able to?—”
“Callie,” Zeke says.
I turn around, and he’s right there, standing too close, filling me up with his intoxicating scent. I tilt my head up to look into his eyes.
“Can we talk about yesterday?” He’s close enough that if he leaned forward, just a tad, our lips could touch.
I nod, my throat closing up. I turn back to the counter and resume unwrapping, placing the opened chocolates in a bowl. “Yes. We should.”
Zeke takes a step back. “I don’t know what I was thinking. That should never have happened.”
I should’ve expected it, but it still feels like a gut punch.
“It won’t happen again,” Zeke says. “I promise. We’re just—just friends. Not even that,” he adds quietly.
My breath gets stuck in my throat. His words hurt more than they should’ve.
I set down the chocolate and turn toward Zeke. I gather my courage and take a step closer. “But what if it did happen again?” My hands are stained with melted chocolate, and this isn’t the most romantic setting. My heart is hammering in my chest. Zeke’s mom is probably going to come back down the stairs any second now, but I have to get this out. “What if I want it to happen again?”
I don’t know what to do with my hands, so I clasp them together in front of me. This is terrifying, putting myself out there. My heart is on the cutting board, and he could smoosh it with a rolling pin if he wanted to.
Zeke’s face goes through a range of expressions. I watch them play out on his beautiful brown skin—a moment of hope, quickly overshadowed by fear and horror.
A sinking feeling takes over me. I turn around and resume unwrapping. I have to squeeze my eyes shut so the tears don’t leak out.
“Callie.” Zeke’s footsteps sound on the tile floor as he steps a little closer. “It’s not you. You’re great.”
Great. Just great.
“You know why I can’t . . . I can’t be with anyone right now.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. It doesn’t make it hurt any less.
I swallow. “I . . . uhhh . . . I need a minute. I’ll be back.”
“Callie—”
I ignore Zeke’s call and walk blindly through the living room and out his front door, waving an arm in front of my face to check for spiderwebs without really thinking about it. I sit down on his front porch step, put my head on my knees, and breathe.
Zeke . . . Zeke rejected me. After I was willing to put everything aside to be with him, he didn’t want me.
I swallow the sting of tears. I can’t abandon Caroline halfway through our baking, so I have to go back in there and endure Zeke’s pitying look and the awkwardness that will unfold between us. I have to go back in there and pretend to be his friend, to act like everything’s fine.
Because it’s in the contract.
