On Loverose Lane (Return to Dublin Street #1)

12. Beth

CHAPTER TWELVE

BETH

Nine years ago

I ’d had crushes on boys before, but nothing compared to this.

I mean, I was standing on the sidelines of a football pitch, watching a bloody football game, for goodness’ sake. Me. Beth Carmichael.

And it was doomed from the start.

“He’s so gorgeous. It’s so unfair neither of us can do anything about it.” My best friend, Amanda, pouted.

He was Callan Keen. And unfortunately, her crush was my crush. When we’d realized we liked the same boy, we’d made a pact that neither of us would date him. But we seemed unable to stay away, even if it was under the pretense of only wanting to be friends with him.

“It’s bloody Baltic, though. Don’t know how long I can stay.”

It was November, but I couldn’t feel the cold. “You go.”

“Are you staying?” She eyed me warily.

“Yeah, I’m fine to watch a little longer.” I kept my tone nonchalant. “My bus doesn’t arrive for another wee bit yet.”

“Hmm.” She narrowed her eyes. “Remember our pact.”

How could I forget? The same day I met Callan, Amanda met him in her next class. She’d come rushing out of school desperate to talk to me about him, but I’d gotten there first. When she realized we were crushing on the same boy, she’d announced neither of us could have him.

“I remember. Don’t worry.” I waved goodbye to her, reminding myself that Amanda and I had been best friends since we were kids. I loved her to pieces. And she’d made the pact because she loved me and she wanted nothing to come between us. We’d made this kind of pact before when we were both crushing on a boy. It had always seemed like the fair and right thing to do.

However, Callan Keen was different.

Turning back to the pitch, I watched Callan shout to his teammate and suddenly, the ball soared toward him. Then he moved at a speed that was hard to compute. He could transport the ball down the pitch without giving up control so quickly, it was extraordinary. I’d never liked the sport, but watching Callan was eye-opening. I still wasn’t quite sure of the rules, but I didn’t care. I was looking only at Callan.

Butterflies roared to life in my belly any time I thought too hard about the boy I sat next to in history and math class. As soon as we realized we had math together, I bribed Jake Barker with a Snickers bar so I could sit next to Callan. Callan chuckled, apparently not at all put off with my obviousness. I’d tried to rein it in because I knew I couldn’t do anything about it, but I wanted to be near him. I couldn’t explain it.

And I was sure Callan liked me back.

I wasn’t sure why he hadn’t asked me out yet. Not that I could say yes.

As it was, I already felt guilty for flirting with the guy behind Amanda’s back. We’d been flirting for two months. And he’d become my bloody obsession. I’d never crushed this hard on anyone. For the first time, I could imagine doing more than kissing a boy. Amanda had lost her virginity during the summer, and all our friends talked about how they couldn’t wait, while I thought I was a weirdo because I still didn’t feel ready for sex. But thinking about it didn’t seem scary when I imagined it with Callan. It was beyond exciting.

I caught him looking at my mouth enough times to think he felt the same way.

And even though I couldn’t have him, he didn’t know that. So, why wasn’t he making a move? If he made a move … well, maybe I could explain to Amanda that what I felt for Callan was more than an average crush.

The coach called the game after a while and I waited, feeling like a bit of an idiot for waiting around as the gathered crowd began to disperse.

However, as the team made their way toward the sports building, Callan turned and jogged toward me.

He was tall and athletic and had the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. But that wasn’t the only reason I liked him. I liked his quiet sense of humor and his mischievousness. He liked to murmur innuendo under his breath in history, trying to make me laugh in front of the teacher. I also liked the way he seemed to really listen to me as I prattled on about whatever was on my mind.

And I liked how secretly smart he was.

He’d helped me out a few times in maths class.

He might not be academically driven like I was, but I really admired how driven he was about football. While we hadn’t had a chance to have really deep and meaningful conversations, I knew that he’d come to Drimwhinnie in the hopes of being scouted by the Pro League U18 teams.

I didn’t know that many sixteen-almost-seventeen-year-olds who were that ambitious and hardworking.

Callan slowed to a stop before me, flashing that boyish, lopsided grin that made my heart race. “You came.”

“I did.”

“I’m glad.”

“Me too.” Bad Beth, bad, bad Beth .

He nodded, pleased. “Can you hang around for ten minutes? I need to get changed.”

Those butterflies fluttered like crazy. “Sure. I’ll meet you at the front gate.”

“Good.” His eyes seemed to light up and he rubbed his nape with a quick grin before turning to run off the pitch.

As I walked away, I texted Mum to let her know I was staying late at school and that I’d get a few buses back into town. Mum and Dad had promised I could get a car next year so I could drive myself to school.

My phone beeped.

I want text updates from bus to bus, kid.

Smiling, I texted Mum back that I promised to do so.

Callan suddenly appeared, his strides long and quick, and that fluttering went riotous. I actually felt a little sick.

“Hey.” He came to a halt before me, studying me a bit uncertainly.

“Do you want to walk to the bus stop?” It was a ten-minute stroll up a leafy residential area of Cramond. I knew Callan had to get the bus to Leith, which was on my way.

“Sure.”

We fell into step, my arm brushing his deliberately. My heart raced as we both took incredibly slow steps toward our destination. The thought made me smile. “You’re so fast, Callan. On the pitch. I can’t imagine you won’t get scouted.”

“Actually, Coach says there are two Under 18s interested in me. Ardarroch and Caley United.”

“Caley are a great team,” I blurted out in a panic because Ardarroch were in Aberdeen and that would take him from my reach. Caledonia United would keep him here in Edinburgh.

He shot me the smirk that made my insides melt. “I know.”

Hope filled me. “So, Caley United, then?”

“Don’t know. They’re only interested at this point. They’ll want to see what I can do on the school team this year.”

“You guys seem to be doing well. I mean, I hear the other lads talking between classes and they seem excited the team is doing well.”

Callan grinned. “We’re starting to win, aye.”

“What is that smile for?”

“Because you’re cute when you’re clueless.”

I shoved him playfully. “I am not clueless.”

Laughing, he righted himself. “You really don’t like not knowing something, eh?”

It was annoying he knew that about me already.

My expression gave me away and Callan laughed harder.

And despite the laughter being at my expense, I couldn’t help but smile because I’d never heard him laugh like that. He was a serious teenage boy, other than the moments he let down his guard with me.

“I’m getting the bus home. I think we’re probably on the same route to a point.”

Callan frowned. “I thought you lived in New Town.”

“I do.”

“I’m in Sighthill. Not exactly in the same direction,” he retorted dryly.

Frowning at the idea I had something wrong about Callan, I said, “I thought you lived in Leith.”

His step faltered. “Ah … well … not really.”

I waited for him to elaborate. “C’mon. I’ve told you about my family.”

“Aye. You have. Your very successful family who live in a fancy townhouse in fucking New Town. New Town, Beth.”

Something unpleasant twinged in my chest. “What does that mean?”

“Your parents are so well off, you live in a house worth millions.”

Embarrassment crept hotly through me because I’d never really thought about what the house was worth. Or about money really in general.

And Callan was on a sports scholarship.

“None of that matters to me,” I assured him.

“That’s because you don’t know anything about me.”

“Then tell me. Please.”

“Well, for a start, money doesn’t matter to you because you have it.” He gave me a gently chiding look. “But it matters, Beth. You’ve no idea how fucking hard it is when you don’t have it.”

I didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not …” He nudged me with his shoulder. “I’m not getting at you for having money. I just … some of the lads on the team treat me differently because they’ve worked out I don’t come from money.”

Anger flushed through me. “Differently how?”

“Like, they’re happy I’m moving the team up the league, but they don’t invite me to do stuff with them outside of training and games.”

“Arseholes.”

Callan grinned. “Look, it’s fine. I’ve got my mates from home that I hang out with. But there can only be one reason the lads here don’t want to … the fact that I don’t have money makes them uncomfortable.”

“Like I said, arseholes.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“Why would it bother me?” I scowled. “It has nothing to do with who you are. In fact, correction—it does. Clearly. Because you’re more driven than any of those idiots at school.”

“Even Ryan Preston?”

Surprise made me draw to a halt. Callan stopped too, looking back at me with a carefully neutral expression. “What does that mean?”

Callan shrugged. “I know he’s desperate to get in your knickers, along with half of the bloody school.”

My eyes narrowed. “And you think I’m interested in Ryan Preston?”

“Millionaire’s son. Drives to school in a Porsche.”

Ew . “Aye, because his parents are morons.” I started marching across the street, suddenly incredibly annoyed with Callan Keen.

“Beth!” I heard him hurrying after me.

I couldn’t look at him.

“Beth.” He grabbed my arm, pulling me to a stop as his gaze searched my face in confusion.

Confusion?

“Is that who you think I am? Why are you even giving me your time if you think I’m some spoiled princess who is impressed by money and sports cars?” I whirled, my strides eating up the pavement.

“Beth, wait.” Callan fell into step beside me, turning to walk backward so he could face me. His expression was tight and remorseful. “I don’t think that. I’m being a prick.”

“Why?”

“Because …” He stopped, shaking his head. “I … Preston said you went on a date last weekend. I heard him in the locker room.”

Ryan Preston really was an arsehole. “We were at the same stupid party because our dads know each other through work, and it was his dad’s birthday. Believe me, none of us wanted to go, but Dad said it was a networking thing, so we went. It was not a date with Ryan Preston. I barely spoke to him the whole night. I don’t want to date Ryan Preston.” He thought he was God’s gift to humanity. Amanda agreed he was awful. Ryan was the one guy we would never fight over.

Tension seemed to ease from Callan’s shoulders. Is that why he hadn’t made a move on me yet? He thought I wouldn’t be interested?

“Callan … I like you, if you hadn’t noticed.”

His lips twitched like he was desperate to smile and trying to remain cool. “You just come out and say it, don’t you?”

“What’s the worst that could happen? You’re an idiot who doesn’t like me in return?”

Callan threw his head back in laughter. I grinned, delighted, watching him until his laugh gentled to a smile. His expression was tender as our eyes met. “I would be a fucking idiot, wouldn’t I?”

“You would.” I smiled, but it wilted at the reminder I should not be doing this. “Amanda likes you.”

His eyebrows rose. “Likes me, likes me?”

I nodded.

Callan sighed. “I don’t like Amanda. Not like that. I like you, Beth.”

Elation flooded me. And concern. “I’d have to discuss this with her … we kind of made a pact neither of us would ask you out.”

Something like hurt flickered across his face. “So, why are you here, flirting with me?”

“Because I can’t seem to not flirt with you.”

He considered me as we neared the bus stop. “First … I know it’s probably gotten round the school that I live in Leith with my mum and dad …”

I nodded because that’s what I had heard.

“I live in Sighthill with my dad and stepmum.” Callan swallowed hard, looking away. I recognized the pain in his eyes before he did, though, and understood it when he continued, “My mum and dad—well, my dad was really my stepdad, but I called him Dad—they died when I was twelve. I was at football practice and they were killed in a traffic accident.”

“Oh, Callan.” I reached out to touch his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

He nodded gruffly. “Aye. Well, I ended up going to live with my real dad, who is a fucking arsehole, and his wife, who isn’t much better. Ashley, my stepmum, acts like I’m the devil. It’s like my being alive is an affront to her, you know.”

Anger and sympathy mixed in a tight, painful ball in my chest. “I hate that for you.”

“It’s fine. They mostly ignore me. And I’ll be out of there soon.”

It wasn’t fine. But I knew he needed to act like it was. “My … my mum, she’s American,” I told him. “Her mum was Scottish, but she moved to the US and got married to my grandfather and stayed. They had my mum and my mum’s wee sister, Beth.”

We paused at the bus stop and Callan turned, giving me his entire attention.

“When Mum was fourteen, her entire family was killed in a car accident too. Her parents and Beth.”

Callan blanched. “Fuck.”

I nodded. “She named me after her sister and my wee brother is named after her father. I’ve never known that kind of grief firsthand, but I see it in my mum. As happy as my dad and all of us make her, there’s this part of her that will always be just a little sad.” I reached out to squeeze his arm. “So, it’s okay if you feel that way too, Callan.”

A wet sheen glistened in his eyes, and I saw him swallow hard as he looked away.

Sliding my hand down his arm, I took his hand in mine, lacing our fingers together.

“You’re even more amazing than I thought,” I told him. “To have lost what you’ve lost and to still be fighting for what you want. I’m glad football has given you that.”

His head whipped back to me, his features slackened with surprise.

And then before I could take another breath, he released my hand but only to reach for me. Suddenly, my body was pressed flush to his and Callan Keen’s lips were on mine.

He swallowed my gasp of surprise in the deepest kiss a boy had ever given me.

It was hungry.

It was … more.

Like, I’d French-kissed before, but this was … my whole body felt like a million jolts of electricity were running through it.

I gripped onto Callan to hold me steady through the light-headed rush of the kiss as I deepened it.

Callan groaned, and I moved until I was stumbling back against the bus stop wall. One hand slid around the nape of my neck, while his other banded around my waist, pulling me tighter against him.

My fingers curled in his hair as we kissed until our mouths were swollen.

It was the longest make-out session of my life.

And it was bloody glorious.

Finally, Callan gentled the kiss, his lips whispering across mine in sweet, shivery brushes. With one last touch, he leaned his forehead to mine and took a deep, shuddering breath.

“That was … wow.”

Callan lifted his head to meet my gaze. “It was.” His voice was deliciously rough.

We stared at each other in awe for a few seconds.

Then he asked, “Will you come to our game against Longniddry next Saturday?”

A giddy smile tugged at my puffy lips. “Will you kiss me like that afterward?”

Callan grinned. “Aye, if you’ll let me.”

“I think we both know I’ll let you.”

Chuckling, he drew me against him for a hug. I was surprised by the tender embrace, and even more so by the kiss he pressed to my temple. Like I was precious. Like I was someone he cherished. “What about Amanda?”

A knot formed in my gut, but I shoved it aside. “Once I explain how much I like you, she’ll understand. She’s my best friend. She loves me.”

“Good. I like you a lot too, if that wasn’t clear.”

I had to bite my lip against another giddy smile. Callan saw and his expression brightened with smug elation.

When my bus arrived, he gave me a few more soft kisses and made me promise to text him when I got home. I’d never in my life not wanted to go home.

But that afternoon, I wanted to be wherever Callan Keen was.