Page 47 of A Loser by Christmas
I nudge Calum. “What have you got to say for yourself, Cupid?”
Calum zips his lips, so I let more of last night’s footage do the talking for him. My camera caught him loading a bow with an arrow while I was away from the table. “You know how you usually do all the meal prep here?”
Bright kitchen lights find every strand of silver at Robin’s temples. “Yes.”
Calum fires a romantic arrow. “Could you do your next meal prep session in a different kitchen?”
“Where?”
I turn up the volume so we both hear Calum say, “In Kensington. A family friend lost her chef. Her ex-husband. Hereally did her dirty, and a year later, she’s still struggling. If you could give her some tips while borrowing her kitchen, I know she’d appreciate it.” He looks over his shoulder. At me, I guess, helping that second chef to recreate perfection. “I’m pretty sure Guy would want to help too. He’s eaten there. He’ll tell you that Penny is good people. The best. You’ll like her.”
Yet again, there’s nothing here to make Calum’s club drop him. I still kind of want to show the world these snippets, because there’s no doubt that every single time he’s zipped his lips closed has left Calum isolated, and yet here he is, connecting people.
I’m not sure I’ve ever wanted to kiss anyone more.
He leans in like he’s on the same page.
We almost connect, so close that I catch a waft of minty freshness.
“Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.” I slip into my tiny shower room to get busy with my toothbrush, then pause with a mouthful of foam when I overhear the video start up without me—Calum must have pressed Play.
Penny’s voice rings out.About me.
“Calum Trelawney, you dark horse. He’s so pretty! Will you take him home with you for Christmas? He’s?—”
I know what’s coming, what Calum said while I was getting a grip on myself all alone in a restaurant hallway. It still stings a little, which my bathroom mirror reflects.
“Someone who made Jack’s life hell?” Calum snorts through my laptop’s speakers. I flinch even though I know we’ve cleared the air since. Regardless, this reminder of where we started is a kick to the nuts. “I couldn’t take him home.”
I rinse. Spit foam that tastes weirdly bitter. Leave the shower room just as a past version of Calum says, “Because if I did take him home, you know how Mum would react.”
Penny clucks. “She’s so protective.”
A lot has happened since that conversation. I know so. Today I retrace my steps to kneel beside an incubator, barely seeing the egg that I turn over to avoid watching this replay. That doesn’t stop me from hearing him say, “The minute she met Valentin in person, she’d go full-on mother?—”
I don’t need to hear the wordlion.I actually hate the thought of anyone thinking Calum needs protecting from me.
I snap my laptop closed, grab my jacket, then act bright and breezy. “Right. Let’s get started.”
Once I’m outside, I hurry ahead. The marina is also breezy, the wind whipping away something Calum calls out from behind me. I don’t slow down to listen. I hurry even faster, already aboard a speedboat before he can reach me.
“Wait.” Calum catches up. He should step aboard to join me. He doesn’t, and something under my ribs lurches at his hesitation. It lurches again when his gaze drops to my mouth. Don’t ask me why it feels like I’ve missed my one chance today to kiss him where no one else could see us. It’s the worst time in the world for Christmas music to drift across the water.
Mariah Carey tells the whole marina all she wants for Christmas while the one thing I want says, “Are you... Are you okay?” Calum scrubs at the back of his neck. “Listen, I don’t remember saying any of that. It sounded really...”
True.
He looks so awkward that I tell myself to get it together like I did almost two weeks ago in that restaurant hallway. “It’s all good,” I promise Calum. “Seriously. Don’t sweat it. How about you tell me what’s so important about today that you got here extra early?” I tilt my head across the river. “The torture chamber called you back?”
“Nope.” He earns his masochist credentials by casting a wistful look in that direction. He looks back at me and smiles, which is better, but rather than sitting up front beside me likeusual, he sits at the back of the boat like a test-drive client. For a moment, I think he’s done that to create distance between us. Calum has a different reason. “Listen, have you brought more than one camera with you?”
“Of course.” I pull my spare from my pocket. “Why?”
“Because I had some last-minute ideas for your contest entry. That is, if you haven’t already finished.”
“Not quite. It’s due tomorrow evening.” Right now, that doesn’t feel long enough to do my entry justice.
“And you’ll have to help close out the boat show tomorrow as well?” Calum squares his shoulders. “That means today’s the day. Focus your spare camera on me. I’ll give you all the content you need from back here.” He sprawls on luxurious leather seating designed for millionaire comfort. Calum stretches his arms along the backrest like he owns this vessel instead of the one Dad has taken to the boatyard to paint rescued children’s names on. “How do I look?”
