19. Callie
Chapter 19
Callie
Today, we are going to sit our butt down and edit some pictures. I’ve had this mindset all week but zero motivation. At this point it’s straight ADHD avoidance. I have nearly two thousand photos downloaded onto my laptop and every time I’ve turned on my screen and seen that number, I slam it shut and tell myself I’ll do it tomorrow.
But there are no more tomorrows. I need to get started if I want to have everything edited before we leave for Aster Creek on Monday. To help, I set little daily goals for myself. Today I need to comb through the photos, making notes of my favorites and deleting the unusable ones. I’ve played around with my presets enough that each picture won’t need heavy editing, and most can go into files for a later date, but realistically, I need to get this number of photos I have way down.
Setting my tea bag in my mug to steep, I reach for my laptop. Work—we are going to work.
As I pull everything up, there’s one other major reminder of why I’ve closed my laptop for the last five days. One sweaty, muscular, shirtless Will with these incredible abs and long arms. Damn it, why did we have to take brand photos of Will with the workout equipment? The brand photos I need of Will should be for cleats or a cereal box—literally anything other than having to take pictures of him shirtless lifting weights.
I’ll never be able to explain this because I’ve never considered sweat to be sexy, but seeing Will all sweaty felt like it unlocked some kind of weird ass kink for me because hot damn. How I did that shoot with the level of professionality I had was practically an act of God.
Is it wrong to be jealous of metal? Because anytime his hands would grip on the weights I’d have to shove the mental image away of him gripping on to me in any way he wanted.
Maybe I’m foolish to think he was being a little flirty at the training center, but maybe I missed him more than I thought over this past month.
I thought we’d get our footing on the” friends” front this week, but our schedules still aren’t matching up. I’ve unfortunately been trapped at the stadium all week taking photos for our new virtual tour, while the guys are still practicing at the training center. Adam’s talked about Will being at practice so I know he’s been around. On the neighbor front, I’ve barely heard a peep come from his place.
I guess I should stop fixating on him. Even if I did do something about my feelings there isn’t much we can do about it. I can’t lose this job…but I can’t seem to let this idea of Will go.
“Okay, Callie, we’re just going to add these to his album and move on,” I say aloud to myself. I can’t afford to get caught up in Will’s muscular thighs. I. Have. To. Work.
Clicking on a chunk of Will’s photos, I add them to his album. One thing I did do in my procrastination state was create different folders for every player and team photos.
Reaching for my tea, I decide it’s entirely too quiet and if I’m going to keep happening upon Will shirtless, I need some calming—dare I say sad—music to counter his hotness.
“Okay, let’s do this.” Again, I say to no one.
I push through for a good hour. My tea is now gone and my set up on the couch has officially become uncomfortable. Groaning, I stretch out my arms and roll my neck.
Surely, I made some good progress. I tried sticking to quick decisions, keep or trash, then immediately into the folder. According to the math in my head, I went through roughly five hundred. I did feel like I saw a lot of pictures of Will, but maybe that’s just because he stands out to me more than the rest.
I move my workspace to my small dining table, telling myself a change in scenery will help. I have to keep going. I’ll feel so much better if I can check this off my to-do list for today. I set a timer on my phone for another hour. One more hour, then I can treat myself.
Looking at my screen, I groan and shake out my hands. “Just focus, Callie. For all that’s holy, focus.”
As soon as my hand clicks on my mouse pad, my phone rings. “Oh, thank God.” Reaching for my phone I see Wyla’s name at the top.
I answer so fast it’s silly. “Could you sense my cry for help all the way down in South Carolina?”
Wyla snorts. “Eh, it’s more Jett took Stevie with him to the gym today and I so desperately needed some adult conversation that doesn’t involve any mention of or a sound from a child. So maybe we were both sending vibes.”
Gladly scooting my laptop to the side I prop Wyla’s FaceTime up against my now empty mug. “You overstimulated, Momma? I’ll be there to help in a few days. I could definitely use the distraction.”
If pictures of Will are enough to get me this worked up, I’m a little worried about us having to spend almost every day together when the season starts.
Wyla dances her eyebrows. “Oh, a distraction from what? Please, let it be interesting. My soul is dying for some super dramatic girl talk! I’ll even take gossip about people I don’t know.”
I laugh. “Gossip about people you don’t know is the best gossip.”
“Right! Okay, so tell me. What’s distracting you?” Wyla settles in on her couch, wrapping a throw around her shoulders. “Please don’t spare any details!”
I glance at my computer knowing I should give her the quick version and get back to it…but once I open my mouth, I know this is about to be a short story told long.
About twenty minutes in, I’m finally nearing the end. “And now I have to edit all these pictures of him, all gorgeous and sweaty. It’s not fair.” I pull my laptop over, clicking it on to check the numbers I haven’t wanted to see. “I’ve sorted roughly five hundred photos. On average, each player right now has about fifteen to twenty pictures in their folder…Will’s has over fifty.”
I can see Wyla trying to hide her laugh.
“Don’t laugh at me! Wyla, I even had to skip over of the branding photos because the number of pictures with him in it were overwhelming!”
Wyla tries to stifle her laugh again.
“Wyla!”
“Hey, I get it. I’m partial to the pitchers myself. They’re very good with their hands.”
I’d bet good money that Will’s fantastic with his hands. If he isn’t, I know how he listens, and he’d be great at taking directions. Fuck. “You’re not helping! Did you miss the part where I said we’re not allowed to date?”
Wyla rolls her eyes and waves me off. “Yes, I heard you. That’s a stupid rule. You clearly like him, Callie.”
“Of course I do! But it doesn’t change anything. We’re not allowed to date and even if we were, he agreed that we were friends.”
This time Wyla actually does laugh. “That man does not want to be your friend.”
Her response, much to my chagrin, makes me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.
“It doesn’t really matter. Even if I wanted to call his friend bluff, we couldn’t have anything more than a secret fling.” And I don’t think that’s something I could handle with Will. I have one too many emotions involved already, and Wyla can clearly see that.
“Okay, well, babes, what are you going to do? I’m not saying you can’t wallow in your crush a little bit longer, but you still have to live your life.”
“Says the girl whose boyfriend fell in love with her after one night.”
“Okay, but that’s my point! Thank you for proving it. Yeah, everything worked out, but we lost a lot of time because I was scared. Whatever you do next, Cals, is up to you. Take the risk and try a fling with Will or move on. You never know, maybe your one-night stand will fall madly in love with you too. Just make sure you use protection.”
I snort a laugh. “Says you.”
“Shut up.” Wyla rolls her eyes and settles deeper into her couch. “Maybe Will’s not your Jett and maybe he is, but as your best friend, I can’t let you trap yourself in your apartment to be sad over a man.”
Ugh, Wyla’s tough love hits me deep. Is she right? Should I move on? Things with Will seem like a dead end, even though I wish they weren’t…
“I’m sorry.” Wyla’s tone softens. “I just love you and want you to be happy.”
“Ugh,” I groan. “You’re right. Go enjoy the rest of your quiet time. I’ll see you in a few days.”
“See you soon, Cals.” Wyla blows me a kiss before hanging up.
Laying my phone face down on the table, I try to fully process what Wyla said. I mean, she is right. I’ve been hiding out in my apartment for a month essentially moping over Will. Maybe I should just get back to work and answers will come to me later.
And by later I mean in the next fifteen minutes because I can’t get Wyla’s speech out of my head. Am I over Will? Most definitely not. But what am I supposed to do? Even if I did tell him my feelings, I can’t say he’d return them with the same confidence Wyla did. And then what? We’re not going to be able to date, so I’m just supposed to put my heart on my sleeve and say, “Oh, but don’t worry, we can’t date anyway.”
Sighing, I push through another hour of work…kind of. Somehow, I ended up on a website for Boston’s top wine bars. Was going out alone my safest move? Probably not, but Wyla’s right—I’m rotting in here. Maybe a night branching out will be good for me.