Page 6 of Mess With Me
“What do you mean not in that way?” Cali asked. Which was his question. What the hell did that even mean? The man spoke in riddles.
“I guess it just means he’s not into me anymore,” Ally choked out. “Unless I want to hook up for old times’ sake.”
“Bastard,” he spat.
Cali scowled. “He needs to be neutered.”
Ally burst out laughing. “He does.” She quickly dropped her smile, clearly still hurting.
The waitress arrived to take their orders. Ally gave the waitress a tight smile and ordered a coffee with extra cream and sugar, even adding a please at the end. Down in the dumps and heartbroken, she still made the effort to speak kindly to their waitress. He liked that kind of internal strength, respected it.
After the waitress left, Ally gave him and Cali a small smile. “I’m sorry I overshared. I’m sure you didn’t need to hear the nitty-gritty of my sucky love life.”
“No problem,” he and Cali said in near unison.
Ally smiled. “You guys are too cute.”
She thought he and Cali were a couple. Before he could correct that assumption, Cali piped up.
“My turn to share. I came here tonight with one mission—show my enemies I’m no longer a weak geek and no chance in hell I can be mistaken for a guy wannabe. My weapon of choice—sexy dress that shows off my strong body and a hot date.”
Ethan jolted at the hot-date part. “Thanks.” Cali never complimented him.
Cali ignored him, instead speaking directly to Ally. “My mission also failed. Two of the guys weren’t even there and the other ignored me. I dunno, maybe he didn’t recognize me. My hair is shorter now and I had Lasik to correct my vision, so no more thick glasses, but still, I don’t think I look that different.” She paused, staring off in the distance. “I don’t know why it mattered so much to me to show those guys up, but…” She blew out a breath. “My point is, we are simpatico and I feel you, girl.”
“Oh, Cali!” Ally exclaimed, brightening instantly. “Thank you for sharing that. I feel so much better knowing I’m not the only one who built up this reunion into some big life-changing deal.”
“You are not alone,” Cali said.
Ally’s face crumpled and then she nodded, her eyes watery, lips pressed together tightly.
Ethan glared at Cali for upsetting Ally again. Cali lifted one shoulder and shot him a look likenot my fault she’s a wimp. He jerked his head toward Ally likefix it.
Cali stared at Ally. “Let me guess, your fantasy was a man to sweep you off your feet and bring you everlasting happiness, and now that you’ve given it up, you’re afraid to be just you.”
Ally pushed her bangs out of her eyes and whispered, “How did you know?”
Ethan turned to Cali, very interested in her answer. Howdidshe know that?
Cali shrugged. “Culture.”
That was vague, but Ally seemed satisfied, nodding in agreement. “Too many romantic movies and books from too young an age. I totally bought into the romantic fantasy.”
“I depend on no man for my well-being,” Cali replied.
“But doesn’t Ethan make you happy?” Ally asked.
“Imake me happy,” Cali said bluntly.
The waitress arrived with their coffees. After everyone had doctored their coffees with cream and sugar, Ally said longingly to Cali, “Isowant to be you.”
Cali blushed, and Ethan bit back a smile. Cali never blushed.
Ally met his eyes, a flash of longing in them, and quickly lowered them, taking a sip of her coffee. Maybe Ally was wishing she was Cali to be with him. Or maybe she just wanted Cali’s kick-ass attitude. He wasn’t sure and didn’t want to show his hand yet. Despite Ally’s current distress, his senses were on full alert, completely tuned in to her—blood rushing through his veins, pulse quickened, nerves tingling in his fingers aching to touch. And not just because she was beautiful and sexy as all hell in that dress. His head and heart were in a different place since his foster mom, Peggy, died three weeks ago. It was a wake-up call, losing her, the only mom he’d ever known. He’d never told her he loved her, had never said it to anyone. And now it was too late.
He had no memory of his parents or the car accident that killed them. He’d been three years old, asleep in the backseat. No kin had come forward; his grandparents hadn’t wanted to raise a kid again. He’d had no one, bouncing through foster homes until he was eight years old and landed in Peggy’s house. Shortly after that, she introduced him to the Campbell family. They made all the difference—Peggy, along with his honorary dad and brothers and sister—but it wasn’t blood. He wanted that now more than ever. A family of his own. He was ready, knew he had to be more open because—
He wanted love.
