Simon chuckles. “Well, when it happens, I can’t wait to see it. For now, I won’t hold my breath.”
A loud bang from upstairs makes us jump. Simon rushes into the house, leaving Calla and me alone.
She glares at me, and I just keep smiling.
“This makes sense now,” I say. “You rushed into marrying me. Now you’re rushing to divorce me.”
She swats my shoulder, quickly grabbing my shirt and yanking me close. “Keep your voice down.”
I hear her warning, but my gaze drops to her plump pink lips. Fuck. I remember kissing them. I want to do it again. I just don’t want to get a black eye in the process.
She notices me looking and shoves me back.
A slow smile creeps onto the lips I was just fantasizing about. “If you want a divorce, I’ll give you one, but it won’t be my choice.”
I laugh so hard my eyes begin to water.
“All because of what your brother just said?” I clarify. She’s really going to stay married to me to prove a point?
“No.”
“Sure. But that’s where this gets tricky. I’m not asking for a divorce.”
She holds her gaze and narrows her eyes. “Well, neither am I.”
I step closer.
“Calla, if you don’t file the papers, that means we’re staying married.”
“Unless you file them.” She grins.
“We both know that won’t happen. I told you. My family is all about marriage and making it work. So, if I’m married,”—I lean in close, so close my lips almost brush her cheek when I speak— “which I am, to you, I have no choice but to make it work.” I lean away.
She huffs, shoving me back into my seat, and goes back inside. I follow her.
I might be a little twisted, but getting Calla worked up is a turn-on for me.
“Do you want to load your stuff in my Forerunner now or later?”
“Screw you, Beck.”
“I mean, it’s a com—”
She slides the patio door closed before I can finish my sentence. I let out a loud laugh and reach for the handle.
Well, I guess that’s that. She’s not divorcing me to make a point to her family, and I’m not divorcing her because of mine.
This should be fun.
CHAPTER FIVE
CALLA
When I got fired this morning—let go orabsorbedor whatever you want to call it—I thought for sure I’d hit rock bottom. Well, turns out, there was another level for me to drop.
“I can’t believe I’m here,” I say and flop onto Beck’s couch.
Oh, damn it! It’s comfy as hell.
