I swallow, a grin tugging at my lips. The gesture only annoys her more.
“Why haven’t you answered my texts or phone calls?”
I lick my lips and nod.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. We hooked up, and she got attached, and I just ghosted her because she’s my best friend’s sister and the rules of life basically forbid it.
Nope. Not even close.
“Beck, answer me before someone finds us.”
I reach for her, but she swats my hand away.
“What do you want me to say, Calla? I haven’t answered your texts or calls for a reason.”
Her green eyes shine like a rare emerald against her bright blonde hair pulled on top of her head into a messy bun. I wouldn’t mind letting it down and giving it a good tug with her on her knees in front of me. But there is no way in hell I’d tell her that.
She stomps her foot. “It’s a stupid reason and one I don’t agree with.”
I shrug. “Give me a different offer and maybe we can talk.”
I move to pass her, but she stops me with a hand on my chest.
“I have only one offer, Beck, and it isn’t changing.”
Heat pricks at every part of my body as I grind my teeth.
“Neither is mine.”
She holds her gaze steady with mine. I rest one hand flat on the wall next to her head and lean in so close, I can feel her breath brush over my cheek.
My lips part to speak, but she pushes me back. The anger in her eyes deflates.
“Please, Beck. Please. I’ll do anything you want.”
My brow peaks, and she rolls her eyes. “Don’t be dirty. Seriously, you come off as the most innocent of the group, but deep down, I think you’re the worst.”
“You used to like that once upon a time.”
She slaps my shoulder. “Be an adult about this.”
“I am,” I chuckle.
“You are not.”
“Beck! Where are you?” Simon’s voice carries through my main floor, and Calla’s eyes go wide. “I spilled my beer all over your brand-new patio table, and I need more paper towels.”
“Looks like I have to go.”
“Beck,” Calla says in a sharp whisper that stops me in my tracks. “You can fight this as much as you want, but at the end of the day, I still want a divorce.”
The last word is like a knife through my heart.
“I know you do,” I say and bow my head before leaving.
The thing is, I don’t.
CHAPTER TWO
