Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Royal
Callie rolled onto her back sometime in her sleep, and as I study her relaxed profile in the early morning light, I think about last night. The anger, which quickly morphed into a strong protective streak when I saw her falling for the wiles of that asshat, Jeremiah Helmsman. And then later, in the elevator, when the alcohol buzzing through her system made her grumpiness even cuter than it normally is. So cute, in fact, that I stupidly blurted it out, admitting to her for the first time that I find her attractive.
Sure, “cute” isn’t the word most grown women long to hear when being described, but the way it affected her, you’d think I said I wanted to strip her down right there in that elevator. To say she looked shocked would be an understatement.
I instantly regretted saying it, but not because I didn’t mean it. She was cute. She is cute. Beautiful, actually. No, I regretted it because she obviously felt weird about it, and I don’t want to make this room-sharing situation anymore uncomfortable than it already is. Not for her. Not for me.
Because I sure as shit was uncomfortable when she finally emerged from the bathroom, all pink and dewy from her shower in those tiny shorts and that too-thin shirt that hid nothing. My cock began to pulse the second I laid eyes on her, and I had to look away and mentally recite baseball stats to try to get that fucker to calm down. I’m just thankful Callie didn’t look at or speak to me as she climbed into her bed and gave me her back. I had to slip into the bathroom for some deep breathing exercises and a mental pep talk before I was able to relax enough to actually fall asleep.
But that didn’t stop me from thinking about her, just a few feet away in the dark. About what she might do if I slipped out of my bed and into hers. The erection those thoughts created was damn near painful, and there was no getting rid of it.
It was a long, sleepless fucking night, to say the least.
Sliding out of bed and gathering my clothes as quietly as possible, I slip into the bathroom and click the door shut gently. Turning on the shower so it will warm up, I strip out of my clothes before brushing my teeth. When I climb in under the spray, the hot water soothes my tired muscles and the crisp, citrus scent of my soap wakes up my senses.
After rinsing off and twisting the knob to turn off the water, I climb out and dry off. I feel better. More in control of my body. Whatever I felt last night was a one-off. A result of my own slight beer buzz and Callie’s adorable antics.
Nothing has changed. Everything is fine .
When I walk out of the bathroom, my eyes find her, sitting up in bed with the covers pulled up to her chin as she scrolls on her phone. She looks over at me with a sheepish expression that makes me smile.
“Good morning,” I say, injecting a little too much exuberance into my voice.
“Good morning,” she replies softly.
We stare at each other for a single, charged moment, then I clear my throat and walk over to my bag. Digging through it, I pull out a small bottle of aspirin before grabbing an unopened bottle of water from the mini fridge. Holding the items up like a peace offering, I walk over and set them on the nightstand next to her.
“Thank you,” she says, her voice even smaller than before.
“You’re welcome,” I breathe, then turn away roughly to grab my wallet and phone. “I’ll give you some privacy. See you at breakfast.”
Without waiting for a response, I stride from the room. Away from the weird tension that should make zero sense, but somehow makes all the sense in the world. It’s confusing and exhilarating, and I have no idea how to handle it.
When I get down to the lobby, I check the time on my phone. Breakfast isn’t served for another half-hour, so I step outside to soak in some of the bright, California morning sunshine. For once, it’s not overcast as it is most mornings at the beach, so I close my eyes and let the sun warm my skin as the salty sea air fills my lungs.
My mind wanders right back up to that hotel room and Callie, trying to conjure an image of what she might be doing at this exact moment. Blowing out a harsh breath through my nose, I open my eyes and search for a spot to sit. Finding an empty bench in the shade of a couple of date palms, I stride over and sit before pulling up Linc’s number and initiating a call.
“Hey, man. How’s the convention going?” he asks when the call connects.
“Good,” I say. “I mean, we’ve only had the welcome mixer so far, but after breakfast, there are a couple of panels I’m really excited to attend.”
“Any hot teachers catch your eye last night?” he teases, and of course, Callie pops into my head, unbidden.
“You know I don’t partake at these things,” I grumble, making him laugh.
Thanks to television shows and movies, he’s convinced all work conventions are basically prowling grounds for clandestine hookups. And while I’m sure that sort of thing happens here, it’s not for me. Not when I have to see these people every other year for the rest of my career. And not when people like Jeremiah hide their marital status and use these events as a low-risk way to cheat on their spouses. I refuse to be used like that. Ever.
“Anyway, so a funny thing happened,” I say slowly, changing the subject.
“What’s that?” Linc asks.
“Callie’s here. A teacher from another school canceled, and she was given her spot.”
“Oh, joy,” he says with a heavy dose of sarcasm.
I feel my hackles rise as my mouth prepares to rip into him in Callie’s defense, but I catch myself before I say something I’ll regret. If he has a low opinion of Callie, it’s no one’s fault but mine. I’ve complained to him about her… a lot .
“Yeah, so,” I say with a long exhale, “there was a mix up with her reservation, and when she got here, they didn’t have a room for her. And all the nearby hotels were full, too.”
“That sucks,” he says. “What did she do?”
I mumble the answer under my breath, the words completely unintelligible, and when Linc asks me to repeat myself, I squeeze my eyes shut and blurt it out again, this time succinctly.
“I offered to share my room with her.”
“You did what?”
“It’s not a big deal,” I say, defensiveness coloring the words. “I have two queens, and I wasn’t using the other one, obviously. It’s all very…platonic.”
“I didn’t think otherwise,” he says slowly. “I’m just surprised. She’s such a pain in the ass, I never thought you’d be so charitable.”
“She’s not––” I start, anger ridging my voice, but despite cutting myself off, Linc catches it and barks out a laugh.
“Oh, my God. You like her.”
“No, I don’t,” I argue, but there’s no heat in the words. They actually sound more like a question. Clearing my throat, I add, “I just realized I may have been too harsh in judging her. That’s all.”
“You can’t go there, Royal,” he says, ignoring my denial completely. “She’s a coworker. You need to keep the lines firmly drawn. If you don’t, and things go badly…”
His warning trails off, leaving me to imagine the worst. Which is pointless because nothing like that is happening.
“I’m not going there. We’re not going there. There’s nothing to worry about. All I meant was seeing her outside the classroom setting has shown me a new side to her, and she’s not as bad as I thought. That doesn’t mean I’m interested in her, romantically. And she certainly isn’t interested in me that way.”
“You sound disappointed,” Linc says after a few beats of silence.
“Goodbye, Linc,” I say firmly, and he sighs before saying he’d talk to me later.
I’m sure he’ll give me hell about being so defensive the next time we talk. He always could tell when I was lying––whether it was to him or to myself. And while I wasn’t lying about my intentions to keep things platonic with Callie, I was definitely stretching the truth about my lack of interest.
I’m interested, all right.
But it doesn’t matter. Nothing can happen. Linc was right about that much. Callie and I are not only coworkers, but we work as a direct team, teaching the same grade. Hooking up would be a disaster.
I just can’t let myself forget that.
Ever.