When he doesn’t finish right away, I open my mouth to ask him what he wishes, but I stop myself. I don’t want to know. Because if he told me what I want to hear, I’d be stuck. How could I date the man who could put me out of business?
And that’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that I’m so into Callum, that in the right weak moment, I might actually choose him.
A weak moment a lot like this one, where I’m tucked against him in the dark, surrounded by his mass, protected, his entire body feeling like home.
But then I’d be the worst daughter who ever lived, and I have a promise to keep. I refuse to break it.
Before he can finish, I kiss him. I pull the bedsheet over the two of us and close my eyes, hoping his silence lasts until I fall asleep.
* * *
• • •
When I open my eyes, Callum’s lead pipe of an arm is on top of me, and I’m tucked securely underneath. I close my eyes and let out a long, silent breath so I don’t wake him. It’s so damn comfortable under here, under Callum, under his super soft bedsheets.
There’s a soft wheeze above my head. One pleasant surprise after all this time together is that he doesn’t snore like a freight train. His breaths are soft and slow, almost rhythmic. I turn my head to see the few inches of space between us. Everything about waking up next to Callum in his bed is soothing bliss. The feel, the sounds, that delicious musky spice his body somehow naturally produces.
But then my bladder reminds me that it’s early morning and I’ll burst if I don’t do something about it soon. Holding my breath, I slowly roll out from under him, slip on his T-shirt, and quietly pad to the attached bathroom.
I relieve myself and wash up, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My cheeks sport a healthy amount of pink still. Leftovers from last night when I embarrassed myself in front of Callum by admitting my jealousy to his face. I take a breath, thankful that he’s not yet awake so we don’t have to face the awkward aftermath. Because what do you say the morning after you almost spilled all your feelings to your fuck buddy?
I stand in the open doorway, gazing at his sleeping form like a creep. My heart thuds. What the hell will I say now? I can’t drag him into the shower for more sex. I mean, I want to, but he’ll see right through that. And then he’ll ask me about last night, why I got all angsty and emotional. And I may not have the strength to lie.
I take two slow deep breaths before taking a step toward the bed. And then I hear keys jangling at the front door.
“Oi, Cal!”
Finn’s voice booms from all the way at the other end of the condo. Callum slingshots into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes.
I grip the edge of the doorway. “Hide me!” I shriek-whisper.
Callum slow-blinks. “Wait just a—”
I karate chop the air in front of me to silence him. “No! No time. Finn can’t know that I’m here. Hide me. Now!”
“Callum, you still sleeping, you lump?” The sound of Finn’s voice grows louder.
Callum jolts up from bed and ushers me into his closet. “Sorry, he said he was going to be gone today and tomorrow. I didn’t know he’d be coming back.”
I tuck myself in the farthest corner and point my wide-eyed stare at him.
Callum grabs a pair of boxers from the floor of his closet and pulls them on. He wobbles, nearly falling over, he does it so fast. Leaning against the closet doorframe, he steadies himself.
“Just . . . just hold on, I’ll get rid of him.”
Callum shuts the closet door just as I hear the whoosh of his bedroom door flinging open.
Finn’s chuckle hits my ears and I hold my breath. Please God, don’t let him see me. Given how close he and Callum are, I don’t believe he’d rat him out even if he did find us together. But the fewer people who know about our secret, the better.
“It’s nine thirty, mate. I didn’t know you slept in this late anymore.”
With the amusement in Finn’s voice clear, I let out the air in a slow hiss.
Callum clears his throat. “Did you barge into my bedroom just to make fun of me for