How to Marry Your Frenemy - London Casey Page 0,20
just picturing all the things I’m going to write her with my tongue between her legs.”
“Callie?” Cole asked.
“No. Her.”
I nodded and Cole looked at the woman who had been looking at me.
He let out a breath. “Whew. She can squat on my face anytime she wants.”
“You guys are pathetic,” Liam said.
Cole and I both looked at Liam.
He was the one in a messed-up engagement.
It wasn’t even worth saying.
So we just laughed.
“Fuck you guys,” Liam said and he walked away.
Cole and I just kept laughing.
“Let’s go track him down,” Cole said.
“You go,” I said. “I’m going to go ask that woman if she needs a spot.”
“You know, women hate being approached at the gym.”
“And I give a shit, why?” I asked.
Cole slapped my back. “There he is. There’s Jackson. Glad you’re back.”
I walked away, shaking my head.
The woman did a deep squat.
Her ass looked ready to burst out of her super tight purple pants.
I stopped walking and gritted my teeth.
“Purple,” I whispered.
Fucking Callie.
Chapter Ten
Callie
“Here, take this one,” I said as I handed Misha the half full wineglass.
I stood in my new kitchen and looked around.
It was stunning.
Perfect.
A window across from the stove that looked out to the city.
Lights that hung on thin wires with old fashioned looking light bulbs in them.
Fake brick as the backsplash.
A dream kitchen.
Not that I was all that good at cooking.
But this was the place. My home.
It was where I’d walk in the door and strip off my heels.
I’d walk across the floor and wrestle my bra off and throw it to the counter, trading it for a bottle of wine.
I’d pour a glass and stand at the window and watch the city go from day to night.
The lights of the city…
I spun around from the window and lifted the wineglass to my mouth.
I drank it like it was water.
When I put the glass down, I noticed Misha hadn’t had a sip of hers.
“How does this happen?” I asked as I took her glass from her.
“Callie…”
I put that one to my lips and drank it.
Now there were two empty glasses on the counter.
“More wine?” I asked.
“Uh, I didn’t even-”
“I’ll pour,” I said.
I grabbed the bottle and filled the glasses right back up.
Wine splashed on the counter and I didn’t care.
I handed Misha hers and went to drink mine when she stopped me.
“You need to take a breath,” she said.
“Why?”
“You’re all worked up.”
“Did you see what happened?”
Misha nodded. “He insulted me.”
“I saw that he said something to you. What did he say?”
“He said I didn’t make enough to afford this place.”
“Oh, fuck him,” I said. “You’re doing just fine. And even if you wanted more… I can get you more work. I can get you a better job, Misha. You don’t have to be stuck with me.”
Misha slowly put her wineglass down.
She reached for my hand and pulled me toward the living room.
“You need to sit down and take a deep breath,” she said. “You’re going to have an anxiety attack if you don’t.”
“Too late for that,” I said.
My ass was two seconds from hitting the leather couch when I popped right back up.
“You know, this always happens to me,” I said.
“Oh, Callie…”
“Just listen to me. I’ll pay you overtime.”
“You don’t have to pay me for this. I’m not a fucking charity case.”
Misha got off the couch and ran toward the door.
Crap.
I darted after her and used my track and field skills from high school to jump over one of the end tables to cut her off.
In a dress.
Yeah, take that.
I blocked the door and reached for her hand.
“I’m so sorry I said that,” I said. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just need someone to vent to. I’ve worked so hard for this, Misha. So hard. And I’m right there. I’m going to do this. I’m getting this promotion. You’re coming with me too. We’re getting a raise, Misha. I’m just… everything in my life seems to have this asterisk.”
“Asterisk?”
“You know, this thing that makes it not as good or real as it should be.”
“Have you ever considered that’s just what life is?” Misha asked. “It’s the way things ebb and flow. You can’t control everything, Callie.”
“Now you sound like my mother.”
“I’m just being honest,” she said.
“But look at this. Jackson? Next door? How does that happen? We live in a city of how many people and I end up next door to him?”
“Maybe it’s fate…,” Misha said.
“What kind of fate? Don’t you dare start talking about me and him sleeping together. That will never happen.”