Chapter 18
CALLUM
Ithought Alia going on dates would help me push through the emotional gridlock of my own confusion. It had occurred to me that I might finally be able to pursue other women if she was unavailable.
Turns out, planning gameplay works well when you’re avoiding being thrown into the boards at thirty miles an hour.
Avoiding emotions? A whole different story.
Because all I want to do right now is march up to the corner of the deck where Alia and Theo stand and interrupt whatever the fuck is going on.
I’m entering my caveman era and I have no fucking clue what triggered it.
Most of the team is at the Moore house, celebrating not just Diwaloween but also our ranking on the Western Conference board.
Everyone’s in a fantastic mood except me.
Seeing Alia at the door, dressed in that stunning Indian dress and looking like an adolescent Cal’s dream come true, nearly brought me to my knees.
Through the evening, she’s been mingling and making friends with some of the WAGs. Seeing her loosening up and coming out of her shell makes me proud, even if it is a sentiment I can’t share with anyone else.
What I did not sign up for, however, is her connecting a bit too well with Novak. My best friend leering at the woman I have a crush on is not the vibe I’m going for tonight. Or ever.
Does he have to lean over so much? What is he trying to do, smell her hair? It’s something citrusy!
I shuffle closer, stopping to say hello to our second line winger, his girl, and their friend who keeps touching my arm unnecessarily. Why doesn’t anyone understand personal space anymore?
Like a dog who’s heard the silent whistle of his owner, the entire time I’m with others, my ears are attuned to the conversation a few feet away. I manage to catch bits and pieces, but what I hear has me on high alert.
“You should come by the pet shelter,” Alia says to Theo. “I’m sure you’ll find a cute friend for yourself.”
“How about you be my cute friend instead and I come by the pet shelter for a furry one?” Theo flirts.
A good man might want his friends to find happiness together. I’ve always considered myself to be a pretty decent guy. I’m finding out how wrong I am because I’ve never wanted to punch Theo in the face more than I do right now.
Alia laughs—a rich sound I wish I could bottle up. Dammit, I want to be the one to make her laugh the hardest. I want to watch as she struggles to maintain a stern face and fails. But Theo is the lucky bastard who’s on the receiving end of her brilliant smile.
Fuck him for being funny. How dare he.
Before I know it, I’m striding toward them. Where the hell is Moore to snarl like an overprotective bear when it’s necessary? He was so ready to rip into me but went conveniently missing when Theo started flirting. Asshole.
I glance around and find him in the far corner of the yard, deep in conversation with Mateo and our PR manager, Marissa. Looks like I have no choice but to step in. I reach the dimly lit corner just as I hear Alia say, “I have time Wednesday evening if you want to come take a look?”
“No,” I cut in unceremoniously. Interrupting Novak eye-fucking Alia is more important than any manners my dear mother ever drilled into me. Manners can go fuck themselves for all I care. “He can’t.”
Theo’s mouth twists unhappily. “The fuck I can’t.”
“You’re busy.” Jesus, did I just growl?
“We’re not playing that night.”
“You’re still busy.”
“Doing what?”
Not making a move on my. . . Alia.
“You signed up for an interview with SportsWeb,” I remind him. “Marissa will kill you if you miss it.”
“Marissa is our PR manager,” Theo explains to a curious Alia. “She’s like a scary mom.”
“She was looking for you.”
It’s not that far off from the truth. Marissa did say she needed to give Theo the rundown for the interview. What better time than now?
“Dude, I don’t wanna,” he whines. I almost feel bad. Almost.
Then I remember he called Alia cute and checked out her ass when she wasn’t looking. Yeah, fuck sympathy.
“She’s over there.” I point toward the busy yard while Novak grumbles under his breath and trudges over. As soon as he’s out of earshot, I turn to Alia and curtly say—”You can’t date him.”
Alia drags out a blink so slow, I count the seconds it takes to complete the action.
“Excuse me?”
I don’t take it back and, as the silence stretches, her incredulity gives way to anger. Her face flushes, eyes narrowing to slits. Fuck me, she’s hotter when she’s angry, if that’s even possible. Chin tilted up, she takes a step toward me, spearing me with a defiant glare.
I want to pin her against the railing and lick that ticking vein in her forehead. My nails bite into my palm as my body tenses with her closeness. She needs to step away before I do something stupid. Awesome, but stupid.
“Listen to me, Cal, because I will only say this once,” she warns me in a voice so soft, it passes over my skin like a lover’s caress, rousing my dick from slumber. “You do not get to tell me who to date.”
My lust-laden mind is focused on her voice, on her proximity.
I’ll never be able to smell lemons again without thinking about her.
I don’t fully register what she’s said until she huffs off, her hair whipping me across my neck.
She stomps into the house, her smackable ass swinging left to right. Seconds later, I’m rushing after her.
“Tots,” I call, when I spot her approaching the front door.
She ignores me and wrenches it open, escaping into the night. But I’m too stubborn to give up. The scent of mud and grass hits my nostrils when I step out and spot Alia darting down the sidewalk. Shit, I must’ve really irritated her. My strides lengthen as I cross the front lawn.
“Alia, slow down.”
“No,” she snaps over her shoulder, turning the corner down a walkway that ends in a circular greenspace with a gazebo in the center. She stumbles momentarily, so I rush ahead of her, barricading her route.
“I don’t want to hear anything from you.” She attempts to bypass me, and I step in her path again.
“Callum!”
I love my name on her lips, even when she’s pissed.
“Theo’s not right for you.” That’s not what I mean to say but the link between my mouth and brain is full of fissures caused by blinding jealousy.
“Stop it,” she scolds.
We’re out where the breeze should be cooling but my skin is on fire. It has been since the moment Novak leaned a little too close to the woman I have an unhealthy obsession for.
“Theo was being nice and I was having a wonderful time. Until you showed up with your ridiculous decrees you had no right making.”
“He wasn’t just being nice; he was trying to get into your pants.”
“Really? That’s good! I was worried I was reading it wrong.”
Envy has made me stupid because I can’t tell if she’s being serious or fucking with me. Either option is shit.
“Alia, c’mon.”
“I’m a divorced, twenty-six-year-old woman with no romantic prospects, a dead career, and confidence that stinks of roadkill. If he’s interested, then I am too.”
Her body is stiff and her expression guarded, like she’s expecting me to have a reaction that’ll hurt her.
I hate the boulder in my chest that grows heavy, both at the idea of her liking Novak romantically and feeling the need to protect herself from me.
I want to claw this ache out and chuck it into the bay. Better yet, drown it.
“You had no right to barge into a conversation to which you were not invited.” Her throat works as she swallows whatever terrible sentiment my behavior has given rise to.
“I’m sorry.”
“W-what?”
“I said I’m sorry.”
“You. . .” Her gaze ping-pongs between my face, my chest, and the bushes next to us. Confusion dulls the anger in her tone when she speaks next. “Why are you apologizing?”
“Because you’re right. I overstepped. You’re an adult. You can speak with whomever you choose, date whoever you want. I don’t have to like it,” I admit, my ears burning with shame. “And I behaved like a dick instead of giving you your space.”
“Stop being so. . . so. . . reasonable,“ she spits. “I can’t even be angry with you if you say sorry already.”
I shouldn’t laugh. I absolutely shouldn’t laugh.
But I can’t stop the little tickle in my belly when I realize she’s frustrated with me for owning my mistake too quickly.
Fondness for this unbelievably sweet woman overtakes every other thought.
The gentleness of her soul is so evident, it makes me ill to have caused her stress.
“Do you want me to retract my apology so you can be angry?”
She slants me a look that says if she could get away with kicking me in the balls right now, she would. If it makes her happy again, I might let her.
“I was putting myself out there tonight. It’s been a long time since I’ve done that without feeling like I’m doing it wrong.“ Her lower lip wobbles in disappointment and any flicker of amusement I feel burns in the spark of remorse flaring inside me.
“You did good, Tots,” I say softly, taking a tiny step closer. I’m glad she doesn’t shift away. “I saw how much people enjoyed speaking with you. I’m sorry I fucked with your momentum.”
“With Theo or with someone else, I just want to feel for one night that I am. . .”
“That you’re what?”
“Good enough.”
Motherfucking hell, never have two words been such a knife to my gut.
“He’s the one who’s not good enough for you.”
No one is.
Alia scoffs, wrapping her arms around herself, as though warding off some invisible pain. “Don’t patronize me, Callum.”
“I’m not. . .”
“You may not have found me attractive enough to sleep with, but if Theo does, then what’s the harm?”
“You think I don’t find you attractive?” I snap, my voice rising sharply.
“You’ve made that clear, and I respect your choice. But you need to respect mine. I already have Rohan I tiptoe around. I don’t need another protective older brother.”
My entire body lurches in revolt. “I am not your fucking brother.”
“Then quit behaving like it!”
We’re toe-to-toe, glaring at each other, neither willing to back away.
Her ability to stand up to me, especially after her admission of not feeling strong enough, makes me want her with a ferocity that obliterates all logical thought.
I can’t even stop what I’m about to do—and I don’t want to anymore.
I’m tired of fighting with myself to stay away from someone I obviously can’t ignore.
My path to hell now has a pitstop with a gigantic neon sign that has one name: Alia.
“Be brave.” My voice comes out gravelly and rough, my entire body vibrating with the need to prove myself.
I don’t know if it’s a request or a demand, but her brows clash. A tiny voice in the back of my head niggles at me to quit before I do something irreversible, but I’m too far gone to listen to it.
“Say yes, and I’ll show you how not-brotherly I feel toward you.”