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“You could’ve helped. You have arms approximately eight feet long.”
“I wanted to see if you’d make it.”
I reach over her head and pull the door open. She steps beneath my arm, and I follow her inside. Calliope pauses just past the doorway as her eyes adjust to the dimmer hallway, leaving me to pull up short before I walk straight into her.
“Move, Pea.”
The nickname is out before I know where the hell it came from.
Calliope turns beneath my arm and looks up at me. “Did you just call me Pea?”
“What? You’re tiny.”
“I’m not the size of a pea.” Her eyes narrow behind her glasses as she steps away from me, and I laugh when she smacks the folder against my arm. “I hate you.”
“Seems harsh, Pea.”
Calliope goes still, and my smile fades when I realize I didn’t say it accidentally this time. The first one slipped out. This one didn’t, and something about the way she looks up at me when I say it makes me want to keep it.
“You cannot let Easton hear that, or he’ll never call me anything else.”
“So I’m the only one who can call you that?”
Her eyes stay on mine, and suddenly the answer matters more than a stupid nickname should. King has Callie, along with years of knowing exactly how to make her roll her eyes. Everyone else here has some version of her that existed before I arrived. Pea would be mine.
“I’ll allow it.”
She starts down the hallway, and I fall into step beside her again. This time, I don’t measure the space between us. We reach the split where the hallway toward the football side pulls away from the front offices, and Calliope slows.
“I need to get this to Denise.”
“And I need a shower.”
Calliope glances toward the offices before looking back at me, and I recognize the hesitation because I'm doing the same damn thing. There’s nothing left for us to say, but neither of us is interested in being the first one to end this.
“I guess I’ll see you around, Duvall.”
“Yeah, Pea. You will.”
Her smile follows me after she turns toward the offices, and I head toward the locker room with the bare chain resting against my chest. For the first time since finding out exactly who Calliope is, I don’t immediately start calculating how much distance I need to put between us.
I didn’t ask for anything we agreed we shouldn’t have or cross a single boundary we drew between Houston and Charlotte. All I did was walk beside her, make her laugh, and enjoy having her around, which might be considerably more dangerous when staying away from Calliope was a hell of a lot easier before I remembered how much I like being near her.
Chapter Fourteen
Calliope
The folder in my hand is no longer necessary, but apparently that doesn’t mean I’m allowed to leave. After listening to Denise explain in increasingly creative detail why my father is the reason she drinks, I turn toward the front doors and make it as far as the hallway before Whit catches me.
“Perfect.”
I stop because nothing good has ever followed that word when it comes out of Whit’s mouth while he’s looking directly at me. “No.”
“I haven’t asked you anything yet.” Whit holds out a laminated sheet covered in names and what looks like a color-coded organizational system designed by someone who has never met a professional football player. “Callie, please take the sheet.”
“I’m afraid accepting it creates a legally binding agreement.”
“It’s the community outreach sign-up.” One corner of his mouth twitches.
