by Neha Yazmin
Oh yeah – he asked me if I was okay and I never replied…
“Are you feeling alright?”
“Yeah, yeah,” I assure him with a few quick, perky nods.
He smiles.
I think it’s the first time he’s smiled.
Smiled at me.
Is it possible that he’s even more gorgeous when he smiles?
Or is he turning me into a walking-talking cliché-producing machine?
Why’s he making me think like a stupid teenaged girl?
The corners of my mouth may not be glistening with my saliva, but I am metaphorically drooling over him.
Stop it!
I’m here because of Imogen.
For Imogen.
I’m such a horrible person for thinking of her only now.
It’s Callum.
He distracts me.
His face and eyes and his body – those broad muscular shoulders draped in dark navy fabric – they’re the very definition of distraction.
And he’s turned me into the very definition of lust-struck.
Lust.
Such a new sensation for me.
In all my life, I’ve never seen anyone that has made my mind and body react like this.
Fleetingly, I wonder if Imogen felt exactly like this when she first met him.
“How did you and Imogen meet?” I blurt out the next second.
Callum seems surprised momentarily, before he runs a hand through his golden locks.
“Ah, Imogen,” he sighs.
Then he takes a deep breath.
Looks down at the table.
I wait for him to go on.
“We met through friends,” he explains, folding his arms across his chest. “Bonded over our love for art and photography, and the rest is…”
History.
“Imogen is an amazing artist,” he murmurs. “Really talented.”
“And how good are you?”
“At art?” he queries, arching an eyebrow cheekily.
My cheeks flame.
Yes, art!
Of course, art!
What other talents of his would I want to know about?
Still, the question has me wondering about the way he’d hold me if we were to kiss – would he wrap his arms around my waist or cup my face in his hands…?
And if we were to kiss, would it be slow and deep or fiery and dizzying?
How would his hands feel on my skin – would his touch set me on fire?
How would his rippled chest and abdomen taste to my lips?
What would it feel like to be his…?
“It’s not my… specialty,” he says, suppressing a grin.
A smug grin.
Like he knows what kinds of images he’s planted in my psyche.
Planted for life.
I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget the image of being wrapped around him…
“Art isn’t your specialty?” I ask in a hoarse voice, to distract myself.
He shakes his head no.
Still grinning.
“Then what is it that you excel at, Callum?” There’s a hint of a challenge in my tone, triggered by the arrogant expression on his face.
“Well, that’s more of a… hidden talent,” he replies. “Privy only to a select few special… people.”
Yup, he’s hinting at his… sexual prowess.
He’s pretty confident for a 21-year-old.
He must have been with loads of girls, then…
Girls like Imogen.
“Special people like Imogen?” I wonder aloud.
One corner of his mouth drops, leaving a crooked smile on his lips.
This one’s just as nice…
“Yes, like Imogen,” he answers.
For some reason, my heart drops, disappointed that he didn’t include me in that select group of people that get to experience his hidden talent.
Stupid, stupid!
Chapter 9
“SO, ABOUT IMOGEN,” I FORCE MY LIPS TO SAY. “You said you had information about her. Something you couldn’t share in front of her sister… Or over the phone…”
Something about Imogen not being who she seemed…
Callum meets my gaze and sucks in a deep breath.
Finally, he says, “When you asked whether I noticed a change in her recently, I lied.”
“Okay.”
That’s not so bad, so far…
“Go on,” I prompt him, nodding my head encouragingly.
“She seemed distant, aloof,” he tells me.
He looks a little uncomfortable, almost sad.
Then, he suddenly chuckles and rolls his eyes.
“What?” I demand, my voice rising.
“I got it in my head that she was losing interest in me,” he says, shaking his head a little.
Like he shouldn’t have doubted himself.
“Did you think she was going to break up with you?”
“I thought a lot of things–”
“Like she was cheating on you?”
“Once or twice,” he admits dismissively. “I had no real reason to suspect that, just her distant behaviour. Her being miles away when we were together… That sort of thing, you know? Nothing concrete.”
“Did you confront her about her detached behaviour?” I ask, leaning forward on the table.
He nods.
“But she brushed it off,” he tells me. “Or she was telling the truth and really was worried about her parents’ disapproval of me. Well, of her seeing me.
“Now that I think about it, it probably was parental issues distracting her and I was just being paranoid.
“Anyway, when I didn’t hear from her after the last time I saw her, I thought that was her way of trying to… phase me out of her life and…”
He shoves both his hands through his hair and cringes.
Eyes closed, he half-whispers, “I’m not proud of this, Amber, but…”
“But what?”
He opens his emerald eyes and fixes them on me.
I suppress a shiver.
“I cared for her, I really did,” he says in a rush. “But I wasn’t in love with her.”
My heart does a flip at that.
A joyous flip.
So silly…
“And I don’t think she loved me, either,” Callum goes on, oblivious to the relief on my face. “I know she thought she did, but we haven’t been together long enough to be in love with each other.
“And that’s why, when she started being distant and distracted, I guess I felt a little relieved that she was initiating the break-up by keeping her distance, not staying in touch.
“I thought that if she slowly drifted out of my life, it would save us the messy break-up conversation. Cowardly, I know, but that’s the truth. Like I said, I’m not proud of it…
“I just didn’t want to say any of this in front of Simone and make her think I was accusing her sister of being unfaithful and that I was... you know…”
I nod.
I get it.
“That was thoughtful of you,” I mumble. “To protect Simone, I mean.”
He shrugs it off.
“Did you tell the police?”
“No,” he answers in a glum tone.
“Why not?” I almost snap.
Information like this would really help them out.
If Imogen had something on her mind, something distracting her…
“I wanted to tell them,” Callum insists, “I did. But I didn’t want them to–”
“Think that you had something to do with her disappearance – you didn’t want them to suspect you of hurting her because you thought she was going to break up with you.”
“No!” He looks appalled by my insinuation.
I feel guilty just looking at the hurt on his face.
Hurt by my accusation.
“I thought that if I told them there was nothing unusual going on with her, then they’d take her case seriously,” he explains.
“I feared that they’d see her distant behaviour as proof that she’d simply gone away for a bit. You know, to clear her head or something.”
He shakes his head.
“It seems a bit silly now, I know,” he admits. “But at the time, that’s what I was thinking. That was my reasoning. Just because I wasn’t in love with her, doesn’t mean I don’t want her to be safe. To be found.
“I thought I was doing what was best in finding her. Getting the police to act fast. I don’t know… Do you think I should tell them the truth now? Explain why I lied?”
No! screams my head. They’ll only suspect you of being involved.
And that’s a really stupid thing for me to think.
My first concern shouldn’t be Callum’s safety; it should be Imogen’s!
What the hell is wrong with me?
I’m no good at this detective business, that’s for sure!
“Amber?” he asks softly. “What should I do?”
I can’t answer just yet.
He waits, staring intently at me.
I feel like I’m burning under his gaze.
I should have taken my jacket off – I’m stifling over here!
Slipping out of it now will only give me away, so I must suffer away.
“Amber?” he probes again.
“Umm, err... I think–”
“Sorry, guys!”
The perky voice that cut me off belongs to a woman.
Callum and I turn to the person that’s interrupted us.
Oh. It’s the waitress.
Tall and slim, she’s in a smart shirt and leg-hugging jeans. Her dark hair is up in a ponytail and there’s a friendly smile on her pretty face.
“Its mad busy tonight,” she prattles away, rolling her dark eyes. “Normally, we’re quite quick to serve our VIP area.”
VIP area?
Callum and I are in the bar’s VIP area?
“It’s just with Henderson’s burning down the other night that we’ve ended up with their crowd,” the waitress informs us. “There’s a group having birthday drinks, too! To make it up to you for taking your orders so late, the first drink’s on the house. So what would you like?”
I open my mouth to ask for an orange juice, when she adds, “That excludes the champagne, though. Anything else is free.”
She gives me an encouraging smile.
She doesn’t seem to notice Callum is the godlike creature that he is, hardly paying him any more attention than she is paying me.
Does she not see how gorgeous he is?
Or maybe he comes in here a lot and she’s used to him?
But they don’t seem to be familiar to each other…
“Orange juice, please.”
“Are you sure you don’t want something a bit more special?” she queries. “It’s on the house, like I said…”
“Orange juice is fine, thanks.”
“Okay.” She turns to Callum. “And for you?”
He lifts his tumbler, golden-brown liquid still sloshing around inside it.
“I’m fine for now. Thank you.”
“No worries,” she says perkily. “I’m not in a celebratory mood, either. I might work here, but I preferred to drink at Henderson’s on my nights off. It used to rake it in! Feel bad for the owner. To lose such a successful business…”
“It burnt down recently?” I wonder aloud.
I assume Henderson’s is a bar like this, but more profitable.
“You haven’t heard?” she asks, raising her eyebrows.
I shake my head no.
“I’m not from around here…”
And I don’t have enough friends to go drinking with…
“Didn’t you see it on your way here?” she asks me sceptically. “It’s just a few doors down…”
“No,” I mumble. “I wasn’t really looking where I was going…”
Because I used a magical spell that brought me from my flat to right outside this bar.
“Oh. Well. You should check it out when it’s done up again,” she recommends. “That is, when they’re done investigating how the fire started and when the insurance pays up.
“It’s clear it was a gas leak but they have to do all the official checks and reports…” She shakes her head. “Anyway, I’ll be right back with your orange juice.”
And she rushes out of the VIP area.
Callum and I angle our bodies towards each other again, both relieved to be alone once more.
“So, where were we?” he asks, tilting his head a little to the side and smiling at me.
I swallow at how sweet he looks.
If I remembered what we’d been talking about before the waitress interrupted us, that smile of his would have made me forget.
“What were we talking about?” I murmur. “I can’t remember…”
His smile widens, pleased.
He knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
And he enjoys it.
Leaning forward on the table, leaning towards me, he starts to say, “I think we were talking about–”
“Here you are!”
The waitress again.
She sets a tall glass of orange juice in front of me.
“I got you a big glass of the stuff,” she tells me exuberantly. “Normally, the juices are served in tumblers. But you’ve been so nice and patient, so I’ve given you a double serving. On the house. Enjoy!”
“Thank you.”
“Very welcome.”
“Chatty one, isn’t she?” Callum says when the waitress has left.
I chuckle.
“So, should I tell the police the truth?” he asks in a soft voice.
Oh yes. That’s what we were talking about!
“Yes,” I tell him. “It might help… open up a new line of enquiry…”
“You’re right,” he says with a nod. “I’ll call the detective in charge first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Good.”
He smiles that lovely smile again and I look down at my drink.
I take a long gulp of the orange juice.
Yum. It’s delicious.
Freshly squeezed, too.
“Is there anything else?” I murmur as I put my glass down. “About Imogen? You mentioned something about her not being what she seemed…”
Suddenly, Callum looks sheepish.
“What?” I ask.
Running his hand through his hair, he doesn’t meet my gaze for a few seconds.
“What?” I repeat.
Because I probably look as worried as I feel, he says, “Hey, don’t look so scared. It’s nothing bad. Well, I hope not…”
“What is it, then?”
He hesitates for a few seconds.
Then he confesses, “All that stuff about Imogen and her not being who she seemed… it was all a lie. I made it up.”
He looks sheepish again.
“Why?” I ask, bewildered.
To lie and then admit it… strange.
“I said all that stuff to get you to see me again,” he says in a quiet voice.
He looks damn confident, though.
“I thought the mystery aspect would convince you to come…”
This time, he smiles cheekily.
“Why would you do that?” I blurt out, not fully grasping what he’s saying.
“I told you – I wanted to see you again, Amber.”
“Why?” I whisper.
“Why wouldn’t any guy want to see a beautiful girl like you again?”
Okay, now I know he’s up to something.
I don’t think a guy like Callum Dent would show his hand so soon if he did indeed fancy me, so he’s putting on a show right now.
I can shove aside my attraction to him to see through his act.
And I’m not suspecting him of harbouring ulterior motives because I don’t believe what he said about me being beautiful.
I know I’m pretty.
I’m not going to do that thing where I act like I don’t know
that my big blue eyes and clear, smooth skin aren’t attractive to the opposite sex.
And with my blond hair turned black, it makes my face more striking.
But Callum can get a million girls like me, prettier girls than me.
Classier.
Sexier.
But he’s singled me out tonight.
Why?
Why me?
Chapter 10
I’D RATHER THAT A GUY LIKE CALLUM DENT HAD NO INTEREST IN ME WHATSOEVER; IT’S BETTER THAN HAVING SOMEONE LIKE HIM PRETENDING TO LIKE ME.
It means he’s probably lying about a lot of other things.
But, in my heart of hearts, do I honestly believe he had anything to do with Imogen’s disappearance?
No.
I just can’t see it.
My gut doesn’t believe it.
I hope I can trust my gut.
“You don’t believe me,” Callum murmurs, dragging me away from my thoughts.
“I believe you, but…”
“But what, Amber?”
He cocks his head to one side, his emerald eyes amused.
“Well, let me see.” I pretend to be compiling a list in my head. “Your girlfriend’s missing and you trick a different girl to have a drink with you and tell her she’s beautiful. That doesn’t impress me.”
“No?” He sounds sceptical.
“No. I don’t find that particularly attractive.”
It’s true, I don’t.
Whether I find him attractive is of course a different matter altogether, and I’m glad we’re not discussing that.
“What about me?” he asks, dropping his voice to a sexy whisper. “Do you find me attractive?”
Shoot, I spoke too soon!
My face is steaming hot now.
I bet it’s red, too.
“It’s what we do that matters, not what we look like.” I hope he didn’t hear the quiver in my voice as I said that…
“True,” he agrees, nodding thoughtfully. “But you didn’t answer my question.”
Callum leans further forward across the table.
I lean back in my seat saying, “No, I didn’t.”
“Well, are you going to answer?” His lips twitch like he’s trying to keep from laughing. “Are you attracted to me, Amber?”
“Are you attracted to me?” I snap.
I don’t like how he’s cornering me, putting me on the spot.
Do all guys do that?
Or only guys that know you’re into them?
“Haven’t I already made that clear?” he asks, grinning now.