firmly on the floor, points at mine and gives me this slightly insane half-smile. “Four feet on the floor, with the door open. We are in complete compliance of Harker’s visiting hours rules. At least for the next three minutes.”
I force my eyes to focus on her face. Not on her exposed thighs, which she crosses slowly, clearly enjoying my appreciative gaze, or the way her eyes taunt me. “Good to know.”
Homework can wait.
“So, friend.” She rolls the word around on her tongue like she’s testing it. “What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?”
“Orange sherbet.”
Her warm brown eyes feign horror. “ That is not ice cream. Not even close. We must get you a favorite ice cream.”
“That’s what Cal says. She—” I stop myself. I shouldn’t be talking about Calista to Ellie.
“What about me?”
Calista stands in the hallway. My mouth goes dry, and I swallow hard, trying to untangle my tongue.
She’s changed into jeans and has her hands shoved into her pockets. With the way her curls hang across her eyes, she looks like a naughty little kid and I’m pretty sure she was eavesdropping.
“Hey, Cal.” I stutter. “Ellie and I were just talking about ice cream, and how you make fun of me for liking orange sherbet.”
She peeks around the corner, sees Ellie sitting on the bed in a short ass skirt that barely covers her thighs, and shakes her head. “I wanted to talk to you, but I can come back when you don’t have company.”
This is the Cal I know at school: indifferent to my girls. Calm. Distant. My pulse slows a little.
Ellie stands up. “I was just leaving. I promised Libby and Sarah I’d meet them for dinner. They’re probably wondering where I am.”
She moves toward the door. “If you find my pen, just give it to Sarah, okay?”
“Sure thing.”
As soon as Ellie’s gone, Calista steps in and shuts the door. She doesn’t say anything as she walks toward me with her hips swaying rhythmically. She brushes my hair back from my face and lightly touches my injuries. They cease hurting.
“I’m sorry,” she says.
“For what? Alex was being an ass, he deserved it.”
She sinks onto my lap, and I cradle her to my chest. It feels good, like before. Familiar. Like putting on my favorite Converse. I breathe deeply, inhaling the scent of her coconut shampoo. Enjoying the weight of her.
“He did.” She whispers the words in my ear. I tilt my head up and lock onto her blue eyes. There’s something raw and fragile below the surface, something I’ve never seen before. “But that’s not why I’m sorry. I’m sorry about what’s happening between us.”
I know I should tell her to leave. But I can’t. Because the truth is, Calista is the one who doesn’t want a relationship. She’s the one who pushed me away when I told her how I felt a few days before we left for school.
“Did Alex ask you out?” I ask.
“Yes, and I said ‘no’.” Her warm breath tickles my cheek.
With a shaking hand, I touch her arm. Her skin is soft and smooth and cool, just like I knew it would be. “Why?”
She nuzzles my neck. “It didn’t seem right.”
I slide my fingers further up her arm, toward the crook of her elbow, expecting her to pull away.
She doesn’t.
Instead, she reaches for me. Her fingers graze the side of my face and then hover just above the surface. The tiny gap between her fingertips and my jaw fills with pure electricity. I shudder.
Her lips part slightly and she brings her face down toward mine.
I stretch up, my heart accelerating in anticipation, and I close my eyes, waiting for the soft press of her lips against mine.
But there’s only air.
Calista slides off my lap and backs away from me. Her fingers toy with the neck of her shirt. I say a silent prayer, hoping she takes it off and reveals the lacy bra I know she has on.
But I hesitate, unable to get an accurate read on whether I should close the small distance between us and do what I
I force my eyes to focus on her face. Not on her exposed thighs, which she crosses slowly, clearly enjoying my appreciative gaze, or the way her eyes taunt me. “Good to know.”
Homework can wait.
“So, friend.” She rolls the word around on her tongue like she’s testing it. “What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?”
“Orange sherbet.”
Her warm brown eyes feign horror. “ That is not ice cream. Not even close. We must get you a favorite ice cream.”
“That’s what Cal says. She—” I stop myself. I shouldn’t be talking about Calista to Ellie.
“What about me?”
Calista stands in the hallway. My mouth goes dry, and I swallow hard, trying to untangle my tongue.
She’s changed into jeans and has her hands shoved into her pockets. With the way her curls hang across her eyes, she looks like a naughty little kid and I’m pretty sure she was eavesdropping.
“Hey, Cal.” I stutter. “Ellie and I were just talking about ice cream, and how you make fun of me for liking orange sherbet.”
She peeks around the corner, sees Ellie sitting on the bed in a short ass skirt that barely covers her thighs, and shakes her head. “I wanted to talk to you, but I can come back when you don’t have company.”
This is the Cal I know at school: indifferent to my girls. Calm. Distant. My pulse slows a little.
Ellie stands up. “I was just leaving. I promised Libby and Sarah I’d meet them for dinner. They’re probably wondering where I am.”
She moves toward the door. “If you find my pen, just give it to Sarah, okay?”
“Sure thing.”
As soon as Ellie’s gone, Calista steps in and shuts the door. She doesn’t say anything as she walks toward me with her hips swaying rhythmically. She brushes my hair back from my face and lightly touches my injuries. They cease hurting.
“I’m sorry,” she says.
“For what? Alex was being an ass, he deserved it.”
She sinks onto my lap, and I cradle her to my chest. It feels good, like before. Familiar. Like putting on my favorite Converse. I breathe deeply, inhaling the scent of her coconut shampoo. Enjoying the weight of her.
“He did.” She whispers the words in my ear. I tilt my head up and lock onto her blue eyes. There’s something raw and fragile below the surface, something I’ve never seen before. “But that’s not why I’m sorry. I’m sorry about what’s happening between us.”
I know I should tell her to leave. But I can’t. Because the truth is, Calista is the one who doesn’t want a relationship. She’s the one who pushed me away when I told her how I felt a few days before we left for school.
“Did Alex ask you out?” I ask.
“Yes, and I said ‘no’.” Her warm breath tickles my cheek.
With a shaking hand, I touch her arm. Her skin is soft and smooth and cool, just like I knew it would be. “Why?”
She nuzzles my neck. “It didn’t seem right.”
I slide my fingers further up her arm, toward the crook of her elbow, expecting her to pull away.
She doesn’t.
Instead, she reaches for me. Her fingers graze the side of my face and then hover just above the surface. The tiny gap between her fingertips and my jaw fills with pure electricity. I shudder.
Her lips part slightly and she brings her face down toward mine.
I stretch up, my heart accelerating in anticipation, and I close my eyes, waiting for the soft press of her lips against mine.
But there’s only air.
Calista slides off my lap and backs away from me. Her fingers toy with the neck of her shirt. I say a silent prayer, hoping she takes it off and reveals the lacy bra I know she has on.
But I hesitate, unable to get an accurate read on whether I should close the small distance between us and do what I
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