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“How dare she. I hate her already.”
“I know. And Cal dotes on her.”
“By the way, I had every intension of giving you the silent treatment for at least a week for ditching at intermission. But it seems your loaner boyfriend got us a ton of free press, so I’ve decided to let you off the hook for this one.
“Thanks, buddy.”
“Don’t say I never do nothin’ for ya––”
“Now back to me. He’s so sweet it’s making me a little ill to watch them,” I whisper hiss.
“You’re jealous.”
“I’m not jealous––it’s his sister.” There’s a soft knock at the door. “Hold that thought.”
It’s the first night I’m not on duty. It’s also the first night I’ve shut my door. I glance at the time on my phone. 10:59. It can only be one person. I raise the sheet up to cover my tank top.
“Yes?” I call out.
The door opens. Cal walks in and closes the door behind him. Closes the door?
“Amber, there’s a man invading my personal space,” I say loud enough for him to hear. For this, I get a smirk. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
With an exasperated exhale, I state the obvious, “Reginald, you are in my bedroom with nothing but a pair of ratty ass boxers on.”
“It’s a family name.” He walks over to my bed and lies down next to me as if he’s done it a million times. Confusion parks itself on my face.
“What are you doing?” I whisper. “And why are you still awake?”
He’s on his stomach, fluffing the pillow he then shoves under his head. “What happens next on Banshee?”
“It’s a school night, Reginald. You have to be up early.” There’s a strange look on his face I don’t recognize. Anticipation? An alert twinkle in his big gray eyes?
“Thank you for talking to Sam. I don’t know what you said to him, but it worked. And Mandy really appreciates it.” I sink down into the mattress, lying on my side to face him.
“You don’t have to thank me. I love that kid. I’d do anything to help him.”
“What happens next on Banshee? Do they find Job? I don’t like what they did to Gordon.”
The look on his face is killing me. If he asked for a kidney with that look, I’d give him two.
“I’m not telling. You have to watch it.”
“Then let’s watch it.”
“Reggy––”
Cal rolls his eyes. “That’s never going to stop, is it?”
“Not likely.” His soft gaze falls to my lips, and I feel it all the way down to my nether region. If I don’t say or do something to distract myself, I may end up sexually assaulting him. “Your sister’s beautiful. Now I know why your parents had so many kids.” His black brow arches in question. “If you and your sister are any indication, they were totally hot as bawls.” He snorts at this. “Makes sense that they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. I can only imagine what your brothers look like. You guys must’ve had every chick in high school stalking you.”
Something I said makes his amusement fade. The look on his face tells me he wants to say something important so I keep my big mouth shut.
“I never dated in high school. My brothers did, but I couldn’t bring another person into that mess…I couldn’t risk it.” His fingers inch closer to my hand, which is resting between us.
“Risk it?”
“Getting someone pregnant.” He was so petrified of having a baby he was abstinent all throughout high school? Please make the pain stop. “My parents were seventeen when they had me.”
Slay me now. Just put me out of my misery. It feels like I just stepped on a land mine called Calvin Shaw and he’s blown my poor tender heart to smithereens. It never crossed my mind that I could love this way again––all consuming and without a shred of self-preservation. Unfortunately, I was very wrong, very frigging wrong.
“I can’t even imagine how hard that was for you,” I murmur.
“It was either get the bottles ready and change diapers, or listen to the boys cry while I was trying to sleep, or study. Mandy helped.”
“She’s the second oldest, right?” Cal nods. His hand covers mine so they’re palm to palm. I thought I had long fingers, but his dwarf mine. The warmth of his hand seeps in and spreads all the way to my heart. Shifting, he’s on his side, only a foot separating us, so close I can feel the heat radiating from him, smell the scent of his shampoo and deodorant. It’s so familiar to me now. Like he’s mine. Except he’s not.
“When is she driving back to Virginia?”
“Hopefully in a couple of days. Why?”
“I have to let my parents know when I’m moving back in.”
His frown is immediate. “Why?”
“Why do I have to let them know?” I chuckle. “Because I have manners, you dope.” It’s a reflex move, done without thought or premeditation, I reach out my index finger and poke this nose. He doesn’t waste the opportunity. Grasping my wrist, he pulls it in, pulling until I’m forced to scoot closer.
