15. Nadia
15
NADIA
“What was my brother like when you guys were together?” Chloe asked as we pulled out of the Artistic Horizons parking lot. “Was he always so grumpy?”
Is that what he was? Grumpy? That wasn’t how I would describe him. So the million-dollar question was, how would I describe him?
“Have you seen The Vampire Diaries?”
She nodded.
“He was like Damon and Stefan, broody, not grumpy. Basically, if you combined Damon’s charm and charisma with Stefan’s empathy and moral code, that was your brother. He was serious when it came to people he cared about and sports and school.”
Which wasn’t entirely his fault. Chuck Knight set unrealistic standards for his son, and Callum felt the pressure of having to live up to them. Nothing Callum ever did was good enough for his father, and Chuck made sure everyone knew that.
“I don’t think he wants to be here, in Firefly. I told him I can take care of myself. I have friends that I can stay with.”
“Believe me, Callum doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do. If he didn’t want to be here, he wouldn’t be.”
His stubbornness was why it was so difficult to break up with him that final time once I knew I’d have to move back to Firefly after graduation. It was why I’d had to take such drastic measures to make the breakup stick. Because I knew he wouldn’t listen to me if I told him to stay in Arizona and continue his career.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see Chloe picking at her nailbeds, which was a habit I used to have when I was anxious. I clearly hadn’t put her mind at ease. I wished I could say or do more to reassure her, but I didn’t want to say the wrong thing, especially after spying on Callum and overhearing his conversation with Peanut. The siblings clearly had a lot to work out, and I didn’t want to do anything that might get in the way of that.
I wondered if I should give Callum a heads-up that Chloe had spoken to me and let him know that she thought he didn’t want to be here. Was that betraying her confidence? Or was it betraying him not to tell him?
I was still battling with that decision when Chloe asked, “How old were you when your mom died?”
It didn’t surprise me that Chloe found out my mom died. The first year after she passed, I couldn’t count how many people told me about other people who had lost a parent. “ You know Julie lost her dad in a motorcycle acciden t,” or “ Kevin lost his mom to a brain aneurism ,” or “ Summer’s mom died when she was eighteen from a heart attack .”
For some reason, people felt the need to share with me the names and tragic circumstances that gained me and others entry into the exclusive club that no one wanted to be a member of.
“I was a lot older than you,” I explained. “I was twenty-six.”
“What about your dad?” she asked.
“I never knew my dad.”
“Do you know who he is, though?”
I wasn’t sure if I should share this with her, but she asked, and I didn’t want to lie to her. “Growing up, all my mom told me was that I was the product of a one-night stand. After she passed away, I decided to try to find him. I submitted my DNA to Ancestry and 23andMe and was able to find a match for an aunt. It turned out she had one brother who was my dad. His name was Gabriel Thorpe. He was a roughneck who worked on oil rigs and drove a Harley. He died eight years after I was born.”
“How did he die?”
“He was in a convenience store when it was getting robbed, and he died trying to protect a mom and her child.”
“So, he was like a hero?”
“I like to think so, but some other people I talked to, didn’t have nice things to say about him.”
“Other people?”
I nodded. “After I spoke to my aunt, I asked if he had any friends I could talk to for stories about him. There were mixed reviews.”
It turned out he had a meth addiction and had stolen money from a lot of people in his life.
“Do you wish you didn’t ask?”
“No, I’m happy I know. People aren’t perfect, and parents are just people. I don’t know what his life was like, so I can’t judge him.”
She nodded. “I don’t really know anything about my dad. But you do, right?”
“Me?”
“You knew him, right? Because you were with Callum.”
“Oh, um, yeah.”
Everyone in Firefly Island knew Chuck Knight. He was the mayor, but even if he weren’t, he was a hard man to miss. He had a domineering presence both in physique and personality. When he walked into a room, the atmosphere shifted. All of the energy was automatically directed his way; he had an authority that was impossible to ignore.
“What was he like?”
It felt wrong to be discussing Mr. Knight with Chloe behind Callum’s back. But he was her dad, too.
“He was really tall. He did a lot of work in the community. People respected and admired him. He had a very commanding presence.”
I was trying to come up with other things to say about Chuck Knight. He always intimidated me and could be scary when he drank, but I didn’t want to tell her those things. There was no reason to. I’m sure her mom must have seen that side of him. Anyone who was close to him had to have. He was a social drinker, but he had a lot of social occasions.
“My mom never really talked about him. Whenever I asked her about him, she just got really sad, so I stopped even trying. And I was just…it was always…I don’t know; I guess I was just too embarrassed to ask anyone else about him because, you know…”
“Yeah, I know.”
I felt so bad that I’d never considered how it affected Chloe being the product of the scandalous affair. I’d thought about Callum, of course. And Nora and even Danielle. But never Chloe. Maybe it was because she’d been so young when he died. She was only three. I guess I just sort of thought she’d have the same experience as I did growing up not having a dad. But it wasn’t the same. She did have a dad. She had a dad that the entire town respected and admired, and she was the walking reminder of his indiscretions that were only discovered after he was six feet under.
That must be a really tough identity to carry around. At least she’d had her mom, though. Firefly was a small town, and I’d observed the two of them together over the years. They were clearly close. In fact, for the last few years of Danielle’s life, they seemed inseparable. I rarely saw the two of them apart. But, with hindsight being twenty/twenty, that could have been because Danielle was so ill, which was something else I hadn’t known about at the time but could relate to.
Just like I could relate to feeling alone in the world. After my grandpa passed, I had no close blood relations left. From what Reagan told me, Chloe was in the same boat. She only had Callum, and they didn’t seem to be bonding. Maybe staying out of this would be the right thing to do, but I was never really good at doing the right thing.
“You know, you can always talk to Callum about him or even Nora.”
“Do you think it’s weird that I’m living in Nora’s house?”
“Has she been?—?”
“No!” Chloe shook her head. “Nora’s been amazing. She always has. When my mom got sick, she brought over dinners and offered to drive her to doctor’s appointments. She checked in on me and bought me school supplies and clothes. She told me if I ever needed anything to call her, day or night. I mean, like, she’s almost too nice. It’s weird, right? She says I’m family.”
“You are family,” I assured her. “I always loved Nora. From the first time I went to their house for dinner with Callum, Nora welcomed me with open arms. And Buzz, too.”
“Buzz is hilarious. Did you know he’s only worn overalls for like sixty years? And he eats the same thing for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day.”
“Plain oatmeal for breakfast, a peanut butter and banana sandwich for lunch, and chicken and veggies for dinner. Oh, and sometimes strawberry ice cream when Nora makes it fresh.”
“Yes!” Chloe enthused. “And yeah, that’s exactly how Nora is. She’s been teaching me to cook and sew. She’s even been doing TikToks with me. She’s like the OG trad wife.”
I had a feeling that trad wives went back a few generations farther than Nora, but I understood why Chloe would consider her an OG of the trend. Nora could be the poster child for the trad wife; she was the Rosie the Riveter of domestic goddesses.
We pulled into the Slice of Heaven parking lot and parked next to Callum’s truck. A wave of either nostalgia or déjà vu washed over me. Maybe a little of both. I couldn’t count the number of times Callum and I had eaten here. We’d come during lunch breaks in high school for dollar slices. It was where all the teenagers went after Friday night football games. During the summertime, it was a local hangout for teens to play video games, darts, and the jukebox. Even before we were in high school and had cars, we’d ride our bikes here.
The gravel crunched beneath my feet as I stepped out of the car. Callum and Matty had waited for us, and we all walked in together. I couldn’t help but feel like I was intruding, even though I’d been invited. I didn’t belong with them. I was an outsider.
Callum held the door for us all, and as I walked past him, his crisp, masculine, woodsy scent drifted through the air as I inhaled, sending all sorts of signals to my brain that I was doing my best to ignore and shut them down. His pheromone game was strong. Whenever I was near him, I had to actively keep my distance from him. He was like a magnet that I could barely resist.
The place was crowded. Tables of families, groups of friends, a few teams from the bowling league, and a few members of The Pace Makers walking club were in the house. There was a hum of conversation, layered with music playing from the jukebox and the beeps, chimes, bloops, and explosions of arcade games.
“Can we play video games?” Matty asked.
“Sure.” Callum pulled out cash from his wallet and handed the money to Chloe.
“What’s this?” Chloe looked down at the money.
“It’s for you and Matty.”
“Oh.” She looked surprised that he’d given her the money and not Matty.
The kids took two steps toward the arcade in the back when Callum stopped them.
“Wait, Chloe, what kind of pizza do you want?”
Her eyes darted to the ground, and I could see that she felt uncomfortable. “I’ll eat whatever. It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters. It’s pizza ,” Callum emphasized.
She rolled her eyes, but I could see the tiny grin on her face. “I like pepperoni and mushroom.”
“Got it.”
Chloe and Matty raced to the air hockey table.
Callum turned to me. “That’s the second smile I’ve gotten.”
I wanted to tell him that she didn’t think he wanted to be here, but I also wanted her to feel like she could talk to me, and it wouldn’t get back to her brother.
“Grab us a booth,” he said.
“Okay.” I started to pull out my wallet, but he stopped me.
His hand covered mine, and my breath caught in my throat. The innocent skin-on-skin contact caused a current of arousal to flow through me. I took in a shaky breath.
“I’ve got it,” his voice was rough and low, and I wondered if he might be affected by this encounter.
I lifted my eyes to his, and the intensity in his stare burned me up from the inside out. “You don’t have to?—”
“I know,” he cut me off.
My mouth was watering, and it had nothing to do with the delicious smells or the food I was about to consume. “Okay, I want?—”
“I know.” His mesmerizing gaze remained trained on mine.
Without challenging how he knew my order hadn’t changed in the past ten years, I just walked to get us a booth. I had to, because if I stood next to him a moment longer, there was a very good chance I might spontaneously combust.
Thankfully, the one free booth in the dining area was tucked in the corner so it was perfect for privacy. The last thing I wanted was to be bombarded with questions about what was going on between me and Callum. Also, it was right beside the fire extinguisher, so that would be handy if I did happen to burst into flames.
As I sat in the tucked-away area and attempted to give myself a mental cold shower, I watched Callum standing in line. He was so similar, yet different. It was hard to explain. Just like being here at Slice of Heaven was so familiar yet strange.
He had the exact same mannerisms. The way he dipped his chin when he was waiting for a response. The way his lips twitched just before he smiled. The exact same purposeful gait. The same commanding presence that drew attention in each room he entered. The same quiet air of authority in his stance. The same hand placement when he opened a door, which was always above me, so I walked under his arm. His voice had the same sexy gravelly tone that used to make me wet just hearing him say my name; I’m sure it still would, I hadn’t heard him say it yet. He definitely smelled the same. The citrus, earthy musk that was uniquely his that smelled as if the sun had been shining only on his skin.
There were some differences, though, of course. He had new tattoos on his neck, his hands, and his forearms. Seeing the ink that hadn’t been there before made me want to explore his body and discover what else he’d added to the masterpiece that was—his body. The other change was one that wasn’t visible to the naked eye, which was ironic because it was his eyes. There was a sadness in them, or maybe not a sadness but a disconnect that I’d never seen before. Although, in fairness, that might just be me. He could have walls up that he didn’t have with other people.
After placing the order, he made his way to the self-serve soda fountain and filled up four drinks. On his short journey to our table, he got stopped a half dozen times by people who knew him and those new to town who recognized him; he took a selfie with a couple of guys who looked like they were in their early twenties and a kid who was probably around ten. He met each person with the same energy. He was kind but not friendly. Broody but not grumpy, if you will.
By the time he made it to the table, I could see that his social battery was drained. Callum had always been an introvert. It was something Mr. Knight hated. He wanted his son to play the role of the mayor’s kid and show up to town events as the golden boy of the town, take photo ops with his dad, shake hands, and pretend to play happy family. The problem was, Callum didn’t have a fake bone in his body. He couldn’t pretend. And he didn’t like big crowds of people. He hated being the center of attention, which was why I found it strange he’d chosen MMA as his career. He explained that in the cage, he had a job to do. He wasn’t thinking about the spectators. He was too busy channeling all the pent-up frustration and aggression he’d had to suppress his entire childhood. Once he explained it that way, it made more sense to me.
“Thanks,” I said as he set my Dr. Pepper in front of me and slid into the booth. I took a sip and asked, “So how are things going at the house?”
“Good.”
Neither of us pointed out this was the same booth we’d spent countless hours making out in whenever it was too hot or too cold to brave the outdoors. When weather permitted, we’d sit on the back patio, put our song on the jukebox, and slow dance at sunset. It was during those dances on the back deck that we planned our future together, which always included a house of our own with a back deck so we could continue our tradition of slow dancing at sunset to our song.
“Is it weird? Being back?” I was sure a lot of people had posed that question to him, but I was genuinely curious.
He stared at me for a long beat, not saying a word, and I found myself holding my breath, scared of what might come out of his mouth.
“Yes and no.”
I exhaled. That wasn’t bad, but it didn’t tell me much.
“Is it weird for you?” He played an Uno Reverse.
“What?” I pretended not to know what he meant to buy myself some time to figure out how to answer that.
“Me being back.”
“Oh, um…I mean, yes and no.”
His half-grin was a look of touché. If he wasn’t going to give anything away, then I wasn’t either. There was more silence, and I wanted to kick myself for letting these precious moments of opportunity pass me by. For so many years I’d practiced what I’d say if I ever got the chance to speak to Callum again, and now he was sitting right in front of me and I was blowing it.
“Matty’s a great kid.”
Pride filled his expression. “Yeah, he is.”
“I think?—”
“Do you?—”
We both spoke at the same time.
“Sorry, go ahead,” I told him.
He motioned to me. “No, please.”
“No, really, you first.”
He exhaled through his nose as he weighed whether or not he wanted to try and out-stubborn me, a game he rarely if ever won. He decided against it. Good call.
With a sigh of resignation, he said, “I just wanted to know how well you know Chloe.”
“Oh, I don’t. I never spoke to her until today. I mean, except hi and bye in passing.”
“Really?” His brow knitted together. “I thought…because she asked you to come tonight.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve seen her around town, obviously, it’s Firefly, but I never talked to her. I think maybe my invitation was because of… well…” I wasn’t sure how to broach the subject without being disrespectful to his relationship. “Is she staying in your old room?”
“No, she’s in Mom’s sewing room; why?”
“She came to the front desk during her class today and asked me if we used to be together.” I glanced over to make sure the kids were still occupied before pulling the photo strip out of my purse. “She said she found this in the room she’s staying in.”
I slid the photo strip across to him.
He stared down at it. I tried to read how he felt looking at the photos, but I honestly couldn’t tell.
“I don’t know how she found?—"
“My mom boxed up all of my old stuff and stored it in there.”
“Oh.” I knew it shouldn’t hurt my feelings that he hadn’t kept our pictures. We hadn’t ended on good terms. So it made perfect sense. But it did still sting a little, or maybe a lot.
“So you think she was trying to play matchmaker?” His eyes lifted to mine.
“What? Oh no, no. I don’t think, that’s not what I was saying. You’re engaged. I’m sure she knows that?—”
“I’m not.”
“You’re not what? Engaged?” I asked, sure that I must have heard him wrong or misunderstood. I was sure that he was engaged. Everyone in town had talked about it. It made all the gossip sites and the cover of People; it was a supporting headline, but it was still on the cover. So if they were engaged before then that meant they must have…
“Did you guys break up?” I held my breath as I waited for an answer.
“It’s…complicated.”
“Oh.” That wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no.
He looked back down, and his thumb traced the photo of us kissing. “This is from the?—”
“—first night we met,” we said in unison.
He looked up at me, and the depth of emotion in his soulful, whiskey stare made my heart swell in my chest. “What else did she say?”
“Who?”
“Chloe.”
“Oh, um.” It took me a second to recover from the swift U-turn the conversation had just taken. I still didn’t feel right about revealing what she’d said about him. I wanted her to know she could trust me. “She asked me how old I was when my mom died.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. I was glad to talk to her about it.”
Callum put the photo strip in his pocket and rested his forearms on the table, and he leaned forward. “I’m having a really hard time connecting with her. I don’t think she wants me to be her guardian. Everything I say and do is wrong, and I feel like I keep pushing her farther away. This, tonight is the best interactions we’ve had.”
Shit, shit, shit. I wanted to tell him what she’d told me so bad, but I didn’t want to betray her trust. “She’s been through a lot, and she doesn’t know you. You’re her brother . You always wanted a sibling, remember? You used to talk about what a great brother you’d be. You even wrote a paper about it in the third grade, as part of an assignment about what you want to be when you grow up. Just be her brother.”
His eyes softened, and for a second, just one second, I felt like the old us, like no time had passed. “How do you always know the right things to say?”
“Okay, lovebirds!” Sandy Williams exclaimed beside our table. “I have one half pepperoni and mushroom, half cheese, and one extra cheese, half pepperoni, half green peppers, olives, jalapenos, mushrooms, roasted tomato, and spinach.” She bent down, making sure her ample cleavage that was pouring out of the white Slice of Heaven V-neck t-shirt that was two sizes too small was at Callum’s eye level as she set the pizzas down on the table.
“Thanks.” I smiled, ignoring the fact she’d referred to us as lovebirds and that she was practically trying to breastfeed Callum.
“I just can’t get over how good it is to see the two of you back together again!” She clapped.
“Oh no, we’re not…” My eyes darted over to Callum for backup, but he was sitting there totally unfazed, cool as a cucumber, without a worry in the world. “I’m just here…we’re just friends.”
“Right.” Sandy winked at me, then motioned as if she was zipping up her lips and throwing away the key. “Got it.”
“No. I’m serious. We are.”
“I know.” She nodded in an over exaggerated way. “Just friends.”
I turned to Callum once again, only to find him leaning back, thoroughly enjoying himself.
Forget it; if he wasn’t going to try and pull the emergency brake on the runaway gossip train, then there was no point in me doing it. I wasn’t the one with an “it’s complicated” relationship status.
“Speaking of friends, you just missed Zoe and Miles. I’m so happy for her. I never thought she’d find anyone after losing Austin.”
The bell dinged, indicating an order was up, and Sandy and her double Ds scurried off behind the counter. She passed the kids who were heading over.
Before they made it to the table, Callum asked, “Did you guys wash your hands?”
They both turned on their heels and headed to the hallway where the restrooms were located. It was so strange seeing Callum as a dad. Strange and really, really, really sexy.
“Zoe got married again?”
I forgot that he wasn’t up to date on all the Firefly Island news. Callum had been really good friends with Zoe’s late husband, Austin, who died when he was twenty. He was a marine who was deployed, and Zoe had a two-year-old at the time. They were truly soulmates, and I wasn’t sure if she’d ever find love again.
“Yeah, did you hear about the movie that got made about Austin?”
“Oh, uh, maybe. I don’t really go online that often. And the only TV I watch is Disney Plus.”
“Right, well, she fell in love with the actor and producer who optioned the rights to his life story.”
“She did?”
“Yep, Miles Ford. They’re getting married on Valentine’s Day.”
“Miles Ford.”
“It’s crazy? Right? He’s nominated for an Oscar for the movie.”
“I know him.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. He played an MMA fighter in Caged and came to live with me for six months for research when he was eighteen.”
“Dad!” Matty called out when he was still about five feet away from the table. “Chloe is so good at air hockey, and when we were racing, she got the high score. She got to put her name in the computer.”
“Cool!” Callum gave two thumbs up as Matty took a seat on the booth next to his dad. With his thumbs still in the air, Callum asked Chloe, “Do kids still say cool? Or should I say totally awesome?”
Chloe’s eyes widened in embarrassment as her lips pursed in a grin and she slid into the booth next to me.
“Is that what the kids say?” he directed the question to me, and I knew he was trying to break the ice by being a dork.
“No.” I shook my head. “That’s not what the kids say, boomer.”
“You’re as old as I am,” he shot back.
“True,” I agreed. “But I’m not cheugy.”
“That’s not a word.” This time I could tell he was serious. He really didn’t think it was a word.
Chloe and I both looked at each other and at the same time said, “Yes, it is.”
Callum pulled out his phone. “Siri, what is cheugy?”
Siri’s voice came out through the speaker. “Cheugy, something that is out of date or a person who is trying too hard.”
Chloe and I both started giggling.
The rest of the dinner was spent with Callum proving how ‘cool’ he was by slipping teen slang words into the conversation. I had no idea if he was covertly looking phrases up on his phone or if he actually knew them, but he was using them in the correct context.
Chloe mentioned she might want to try out for the school play, and Callum told her she should ‘ do it for the plot ,’ which was encouraging her to go for it. Matty was talking about a pair of new shoes he wanted, and Callum asked if they were ‘ on fleek, ’ which means stylish.
The crescendo, the pièce de résistance, was when Chloe asked if we went to prom together. The truth was, we were broken up before prom, so I went with Zoe because Austin was deployed, and Callum went solo. We were back together by the end of the night, though. Callum didn’t go into all that. Instead, he told her, “ No cap our prom was a canon event. Nadia was fit AF, her dress was snatched. My tux was fire, and I oozed rizz. We ate and left no crumbs on the dance floor. And if you think that’s sus, I have the receipts, periodt. ” Which roughly translated to: I’m not lying; our prom was an epic moment in time. Nadia looked extremely good, and her dress was flawlessly styled. My tux was impressive, and I radiated charisma. We performed exceptionally with no room for improvement on the dance floor. If you don’t believe me, I have proof. End of story.
Chloe was laughing as she sank down in the booth while she pulled the strings of the hood on her sweatshirt closed over her face. She was laughing as she begged him to never, ever, under any circumstance, say any of those words ever again.
He replied by saying, “ Don’t throw shade. It’s giving salty. ”
Hearing six-foot-four, tattooed, MMA-muscled Callum say, ‘Don’t throw shade; it’s giving salty,’ which basically meant, don’t criticize me because you're jealous; nearly made me pee my pants. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed so hard. It was probably the last time Callum came to visit me in college. We didn’t do anything particularly special; we went to the DMV to renew my license, the park, and stayed up all night on a roof to watch the sunrise, but that was the thing; when I was with Callum, he could make anything, even the line at the DMV, the best day ever.
By the end of the night even Chloe had to concede that Callum’s ‘being cool’ case was strengthened when four football players from Firefly High came in and spotted him. The guys spent about fifteen minutes talking amongst themselves and looking over at our table before coming over and asking him to take a picture with them. He made sure to let them all know that Chloe was his sister, and even though she didn’t say anything, I could see how special it made her feel.
As we walked out to the parking lot, I wished that the night wasn’t ending. The kids piled into Callum’s truck, and I walked to my driver’s side. I hated that our time together was ending. I wanted to be going home with him so badly. I felt tears start to fill my eyes as I pressed my fob, and Callum opened my door for me. I started to get in but turned around to thank him. When I did, I realized he’d taken a step forward and there was only a couple of inches between us. With one arm still on my car door, he placed his other arm on the roof of my car, caging me in.
In that moment I felt a feeling I never thought I’d ever feel again. I didn’t quite know how to explain it. It was all-consuming. It spread through me like butter in a hot pan. It coated me, sizzling and popping. It felt safe and delicious yet dangerous, and I knew I could definitely get burned.
I was scared to breathe because I just wanted to freeze this moment in time, but I knew it couldn’t last forever.
I tilted my chin up to meet his gaze. “Thank you for tonight.”
Callum leaned down, and I thought, for one brief, glorious, perfect moment, that his lips were going to touch mine. But instead, his face brushed the side of mine, and he whispered against my ear, “Thank you. I couldn’t have done this tonight without you. I’m more me when I’m with you.”
With that, he dropped his arms, turned, and got in his truck. I stood there, my legs trembling, my breath coming in short pants, my entire body reeling from the brief encounter. I could still feel the heat of his breath on my neck. I could feel his lips brush against my ear.
It took me a second to realize he’d started his engine. I climbed in my car and started it up. I knew he was waiting for me to get safely in my car and leave. He was a gentleman like that.
As I drove home, I tried to calm my nervous system down from what I’d just experienced, but I was shaking like a leaf. I was on sensory overload. I was replaying what he’d said to me: I’m more me when I’m with you . That had to mean something, right? Something good.
But he hadn’t said definitively that he and Felicity were broken up. He’d said it’s complicated. And even if they were, that didn’t mean he forgave me. Tonight left me with more questions than I had before, but one thing was certain: Callum Knight was the love of my life, and he always would be. For now. For always.