Claiming Callie: Part two
Page 7
She sighs and glances back up at him. To his soft stare. “I can’t wait until the summer. It’s going to be so weird, though, being out of school.”
“Yeah. It’ll totally suck not having you around.”
She notices he didn’t mention Jinny. “It won’t be that bad. Jinny will move back home until she finds a good job. You can see her whenever you want, and we’ll still come into Buzz almost daily. I can guarantee you that. You can’t get killer caramel crème coffee just anywhere. Plus, we’ll still come to all your home games.” She smiles.
“What about you? Where are you going to stay after school lets out?” He says, his voice soft.
“I don’t know. I thought about keeping our apartment. It’s reasonably priced.” She shrugs her shoulders. “I’m not sure. Assuming I get the position at GGF, I’ll be making a good salary and I can move wherever I want. Let’s just hope that’s the case. It’s crazy to think that in a little over four months we’ll be starting our real lives. And even scarier to think I may be doing that without a job and no means to support myself.” Her nerves knot at the base of her throat at the thought.
Graduating from college and entering the workforce is no small step. They’ll be on their own. There’s so much responsibility that comes with taking a job and needing to support oneself. For Jinny, it’s not as big of a deal, but for Callie… She has to get a good job immediately. She has no backup, nowhere to fall. She doesn’t have parents that can help her out. She doesn’t have her family’s house to live in until she gets on her feet. She’s all on her own.
As if he can read her mind, he says, “You know, you could move back with her, don’t you? My parents wouldn’t mind. In fact, that’s probably what they’re expecting.”
“Yeah. I know. But they’ve already done so much for me. I don’t want to impose and—”
“You wouldn’t be imposing.”
His fingers smooth a strand of hair behind her ear. She closes her eyes, allowing his touch to relax her. “What about you?” She lifts her hand and pokes him in the stomach, but is met with a wall of muscle. “You never talk much about what you’ll do after graduation.”
“I have a plan.”
Callie smiles. “That’s it? You have a plan? It sounds brilliant.”
Dean laughs. “It does, doesn’t it?” He jokes, and it’s not lost on Callie that he seems to be avoiding the question.
“What about basketball? Do you think you have a chance at going pro?”
Dean narrows his eyes and shakes his head. “Nah.”
“I don’t know. I might not know much about pro basketball, but you’re pretty damn good. You don’t even want to try?”
His eyes light up as he says, “I bet if you promised to dance at all my games like you did Friday, I’d have a scout pick me up.”
“Ha!” Callie smacks him on the arm, trying not to notice how blue his eyes look, as he stares down at her. “You saw that, did you?”
Dean’s body shakes as he tries, and fails, to suppress his laughter. “I keep picturing you up there, holding hands with the panther, dancing. I’m pretty sure I saw you square dancing with him at one point.” He bursts out laughing now and speaks between gasps for air. “And then you did a kick line.”
She glares at him, but when his body convulses with the force of his laughter, she can’t help herself; she begins to laugh with him. “Busted.”
“Don’t worry. It was all very cute.”
“What can I say? I got moves, and so does that panther. You may have some competition there, actually.”
Dean’s grin slowly fades. “I didn’t realize I was in the running.”
Callie swallows. She shivers at the feel of his fingers, still trailing through her hair, and she’s suddenly very aware of how intimate they must look—her lying on his lap, staring up at him while he cradles and strokes her head.
She clears her throat. “Metaphorically speaking,” she says, and rolls her eyes for good measure.
She glances away from him, because she can’t stare into the deep blue waters of his eyes any longer. And just as she does, she spots Maya walking across the lobby, next to another girl. Maya’s gaze shifts to them as she walks and she does a double take.
Show time.
Callie turns her head. She brings her fingers to her lips, kisses them, and then slowly reaches up and presses them firmly to his lips. A flicker of confusion flashes in his eyes. She smiles and coaxes him to bend toward her, so she can whisper in his ear. “She sees us.” Then she kisses him on the cheek, letting her mouth linger over his skin, which smells incredible. Her heart ramps into a private hailstorm as she feels the grit of stubble on her lips. When she leans back, she can feel the heat in his gaze as his eyes meet hers. He’s focused only on her. Not Maya, but her. Only her.
Her stomach cartwheels as he runs a hand down her arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps everywhere he touches.
Damn, he’s good at this. If she didn’t already know this was a charade, she might be inclined to think otherwise.
His eyes flicker away from her, then back again. “She’s gone,” he says softly, but his hands keep moving. Up and down, over her arm.
She blinks for a moment, unable to move or speak.
Oh God, he’s wondering why I’m still sitting here.
Her gaze moves to his mouth and she scrambles off his lap onto her feet. She only wishes the floor felt more solid.
“Great!” she says, hoping the enthusiasm in her voice doesn’t sound as forced as it feels. “That’ll give her something to think about.”
She backs away from him. “Thanks for the coffee.” She takes another step away, but Dean isn’t saying anything. The slight bob of his Adam’s apple is the only movement on him. He’s just sitting there, staring, his brows knotting into a tight line.
I must look as loony as I feel.
“I’ll see you later, then. Bye,” she says, and gives him a quick wave before turning and practically running out the door.
She steps into the brisk air, turns the corner, and smacks into someone. Taking a step back, she shakes her head, trying to orient herself. “I’m so sorr—” she begins, but stops short as she realizes it’s Maya’s catlike eyes she’s staring into.
#
Her stomach’s a bed of nails. Swallowing, she tries for a smile, but it comes out all wrong—more of a grimace.
“Can I help you with something?” Callie asks.
“Yeah. You can drop whatever game you’re playing with Dean.” Maya crosses her arms over her chest. With tightly puckered lips and narrowed eyes, Callie can sense her distaste, which is fine. Callie’s not much of a fan of hers, either.
“And what kind of game is that, exactly?” Callie steps forward, matching Maya’s steely gaze with one of her own.
“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me? It seems a little odd. One second you’re the prostitute on campus, or escort, whatever you wanna call it,” she sneers, “and the next minute you and Dean are in love and have been dating for over a year.”
The prostitute thing is a low blow, but worse is the panic rising in the back of her throat. Have they been busted? She’d hate to think Dean’s plan has been ruined. Then again, the fact that Maya cared at all about Callie’s relationship with him proves their charade must be working.
“Jealous much?” Callie quips, trying to make it seem as though Maya’s words have not affected her.
“Of you? Please.” Maya smiles. “I just want what’s best for him. And I don’t think that’s you.”
“Seems to me, Dean can make his own decisions. And, it seems like he chose me.”
“He might think you’re what he wants, but soon enough, he’ll realize the two of you just aren’t compatible. That you’re too high maintenance and too much drama for him.”
Callie feels the muscles in her jaw loosen, but she forces her mouth to remain closed. There is no way she. That you’re too high maintenance and too much drama for him.” again, the facer eye
s, she tries to keep it light, make it look natural and not forced. She can only hope she succeeds. “Please. I’m done talking. You, Maya, are old news,” she says and moves to take a step back, but before she can leave, Maya stops her.
Jabbing her in the arm to emphasize her words, Maya says, “You. Better. Not. Hurt. Him.”
God, it would be demoralizing when she and Dean broke up and he went back to Maya, but she couldn’t think about that now. Not with Maya right in her face, like this is some kind of pissing match. Besides, this is the plan, isn’t it? What Callie signed up for?
Giving her the dirtiest look she can muster, Callie turns on her heel and walks away without another word. She should be running to Dean. He’s still sitting in the lobby where she left him. She should go to him and tell him about her two encounters with Maya, of which he knows nothing about. After all, they likely mean they’re succeeding in their goal.
But she can’t tell him. For some reason she can’t pinpoint, she doesn’t have it in her, and this knowledge sits awkwardly in the pit of her stomach like a rotten seed. If she can’t even admit to Dean that Operation Get the Girl is working, what does that mean?
CHAPTER TEN
DEAN
Callie disappears and Dean drops his head in his hands, then scrubs them over his face. “Ugh.” He lightly smacks himself in the head a couple times, trying to jar loose the memory of the way she felt lying on his legs. How good her hair smelled. How her smooth stomach peeked out from the bottom of her sweater.
But it’s hopeless. The feel of her is pressed permanently into his mind, wedged right between the image of how happy she looked Friday night, and the feel of her lips on his cheek just now, making one fucked-up, heart-wrenching love sandwich.
God, this is gonna kill me.
He exhales a long breath and it nearly stops his heart because he can still smell her in the air around him.
If he hadn’t known better, for a minute there… He thought… What? That she actually might have felt something?
Yes. For a minute, I felt it.
So what happened? This damn Operation Get the Girl happened, that’s what. If only she knew the girl I so desperately wanted was her. It should be obvious.
Of course it seems obvious to him, but he’s so far into the friend zone that she doesn’t even see it. On one hand, it’s a good thing she so fully bought his story about wanting Maya back, otherwise she never would’ve gone for pretending to be his girlfriend. But on the other hand, he wouldn’t mind a little suspicion of his motives. It about killed him Friday night when she turned her cheek to him.
After the weekend to think it over, however, a part of him was glad. He wants to kiss Callie. God, he wants to kiss her. More than anything. He knows it will be incredible. But he doesn’t want their first kiss to be shared with hundreds of strangers. When he kisses Callie, he wants it to be just the two of them. And he wants it to be mind-blowing. He needs it to be. Because he plans on making her see him as more than her friend or her best friend’s brother. Their first kiss is going to be an awakening.
He growls and stands up, then glances at his watch. He’d better get back to Buzz. He doesn’t have class for three more hours and he scheduled himself the next few weeks for as many hours as possible. He can’t make up the entire lump he gave to Callie, but over time, he can earn it back.
#
He wakes the next morning to Emmett smacking him in the bare chest with the newspaper. “Dude, wake up. You’ve gotta see this, man.”
Dean rubs his eyes and rolls over, snatching the paper and squinting at the blurry print until it comes into focus. He frowns as he tries to process the story in front of him. “They printed another article?”
“No, jackass. That dinky school paper is nothing compared to this. Read the headline.”
He sits up, ducking so his head doesn’t hit the top of the bunk. Dean’s brow knits as his sleepy eyes absorb the headline. The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. He scans the article, taking in the picture of him with a rose in his hand. The article’s titled: “Pitt Panther Stunt Steals Girl’s Heart.” His eyes widen and he shoots to his feet, banging his shoulder on the bunk.
He grunts and rubs his shoulder. Before he has a chance to speak, Emmett’s standing in front of him, his wide smile lighting up his face. “You made the front page of the local section. I’ve gotta give you props, man. That’s killer.”
“It’s Tuesday, and this is a Sunday paper. Where’d you get this?”
“Someone had it tacked to the billboard outside the dining hall. Read it. Apparently there was press at our game, like always, and someone from the paper thought this would make for an awesome story. Especially with Valentine’s Day coming up. They spoke with the school paper and used your interview in conjunction with what they saw at the game to write the article.”
“Oh, my God.” Dean shoves a hand through his hair and begins to pace the room. He starts to read the article. “Valentine’s Day came early to the University of Pittsburgh basketball court on Friday night when sophomore star-player Dean Michaels pulled a stunt that would surely tug the heartstrings of any girl, let alone his longtime friend and girlfriend Callie Cartwright…”
He closes his eyes for a moment, then opens them. He doesn’t know what to make of the article and how it will affect them. When he came up with this plan, it was supposed to be just between the two of them. Yes, he wanted the student body to know about their couple status, for her sake, to clear up the article Jason ran on her, but this…
“Is this a good thing?” Dean asks.
Emmett exhales a long breath between his teeth and shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
Dean lifts his head. “I wonder if Callie’s seen this yet. No. She couldn’t have.” He shakes his head, answering his own question. “She would’ve mentioned it yesterday.”
“Do you think she’ll totally flip?” Emmett asks, chuckling. “I mean, she does this to supposedly help you win over some other girl, and BOOM, your relationship is outed to the city paper. You’ll be walking along the street, and people will point…” Emmett turns to the side, squints his eyes, and jabs a finger at Dean. “Hey, aren’t you that guy from the paper?” Then he widens his eyes like saucers and shakes his finger. “Yes! Yes, you are! You’re that basketball player with the roses. And you,” Emmett shifts and nods at Dean’s desk chair, “you’re that girl. You’re his girlfriend, the one he gave the roses to. The one whose picture was in the paper.” He clasps his hands. “Awww.”
Dean glares at him, but Emmett goes on. He smacks his lips and says, “Yep. I’m thinking this is a bad thing. I don’t know… It’s hard to tell.”
Dean paces, his hands opening and closing into fists as his nerves heighten and his back grows damp.
This isn’t that bad, is it? Who cares if a bunch of people—okay, the entire city—thinks we’re a couple? It’s not like we know all these nameless faces. Worst case scenario, if we’re constantly being pestered like Emmett says—which is doubtful—we can just deny being the people from the article. Or we can say we broke up… The point is, this doesn’t need to freak Callie out. Shit…
What’s worse than his anxiety at her reaction is that a part of him loves that everyone will think she’s his. It’s what he’s wanted for so long, and the article in many ways is like his dreams coming to fruition. Maybe everything happens for a reason. Maybe this is a sign that she’s supposed to be with him. Maybe the world—or God, or Mother Nature, or whatever—is giving them a little shove.
I’m such a selfish jerk for even thinking this way.
No matter how much he might kinda, sorta, definitely like the article and how it solidifies their status, the last thing he would want is for this to upset Callie. With this in mind, he moves to his dresser and pulls out a pair of jeans. He yanks them on over his boxer briefs and throws a T-shirt on. Grabbing his coat off the desk chair, he moves to the door.
“Hey, where you going?” Emmett asks.
“I need
to find Callie.” He rushes out into the hall and pulls his cell phone out of his coat pocket and dials Callie, but she doesn’t answer. Desperate, he tries his sister next.
“Hello,” she mumbles, her voice thick with sleep.
“Jinny, where’s Callie?”
“What?”
He sighs, trying to keep the impatience from his voice. “Callie? Your roommate? Best friend of—oh, twenty-some years?”
“Ha ha,” she grumbles. “She’s at class. Which I am not. I was sleeping. Until this phone call. Thank you very much.”
“Did she see the article yet?”
“What article?” Jinny asks, sounding more awake.
“The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette ran an article on us in the Sunday paper. Apparently, they were at the game Friday night and were impressed with my…er…display.”
Jinny laughs. “Oh, shit. You’re kidding me. I totally have to get my hands on Sunday’s paper now.”
He’s not in the mood for this. “Jinny—”
“You know, that’s what you get for doing something so sweet. I mean, who does stuff like that? A rose for every basket you score? You had to have the florist on standby. Pretty impressive,” she says, drawing out the words. “If not a little vomit-inducing for your sister to watch. Callie, though…she was eating it up.”
Dean pauses in front of the doors to the dorms, suddenly not so annoyed with his sister’s rant. “You think so?”
Jinny snorts. “I’ve known Callie, as you’ve said, for over twenty years. She can pretend all she wants that a part of her wasn’t swooning over that display, but I know better.”
Dean leans forward, pressing his forehead into the glass on the door. Please, let Jinny be right. God, for once, I actually want my sister to be right.
“What class is she at?” he asks. He needs to find her. If she doesn’t already know, he needs to tell her about the article, soften the blow. He can’t let this ruin things now. Not if Jinny actually thinks there’s a chance this whole scheme might be working.