37. Callie
CHAPTER 37
CALLIE
T here’s a shyness in Miles’s voice that takes me by surprise. These brothers are so different, and yet so very appealing in their own ways.
Before I can answer him, the door clicks, and Max steps in, slightly sweaty from his run. His eyes light up when he sees me. “Good morning, dancing queen.”
“Dancing queen?” I’m surprised by the new nickname. Max was the one with flawless moves last night.
“You should’ve seen her, Miles. She was so smooth.” He sways his hips to demonstrate.
“I’ll bet. She had smooth moves at the roller rink, too, even though she wouldn’t admit it.”
“Thank you for the coffee and flowers this morning,” I say to both of them. “Max, I brought breakfast up, if you’re hungry.”
“I’m starving.”
When he takes a muffin, I offer him a piece of fruit to go with it. “Want a banana?”
He visibly shudders. “No, and I hope that banana didn’t even touch this muffin.” He’s joking, but also kind of … not.
“I forgot—you don’t like bananas. But you hate them that much?” As I talk, I’m peeling the one I’m about to eat, and trying to figure out what someone could find so offensive about a banana.
“Yes, they’re gross.” He looks down at the one I’m holding and grimaces.
I catch his eye and make a big show out of licking the banana, wanting to tease him. Then I slowly slide a few inches of it in my mouth. I’m expecting that he’ll be grossed out and we’ll share a laugh about it, but when I see the men’s faces, I realize what my joke looks like to them.
“Oh my god!” I immediately pull it out of my mouth and turn away as my cheeks flame. My intention wasn’t to demonstrate my fellatio skills on a piece of fruit!
“Callie, would you like to be alone with that banana?” Miles asks, sounding as playful as his brother usually does.
“The banana must have sent dick pics,” Max quips.
“Oh my god!” I’m tempted to flee to the bathroom and hide for the next several days, but instead, I laugh, and they laugh with me.
When we start to calm down, Max says, “Bananas are still gross, no matter how appealing you try to make them, Callie.”
“Ap-peal-ing. Good one, Max,” Miles says, and then we all crack up again over the unintended pun.
Finally, we manage to finish the breakfast food—luckily, I also brought back an apple—and spurred on by how surprisingly comfortable I feel with them, I decide to be as open and honest with both of them as I can.
“Max, before you came in, I was telling Miles that I hope I didn’t make things awkward last night by asking you to hold me. I know that you’re both just pretending to be my boyfriend, but, I have to say, things feel pretty real sometimes.”
When, unhelpfully, they don’t respond, not that I’ve asked a question, I continue. “It’s really weird for me to be kissing both of you. I like it a lot—” I look down at my hands as I say this. “But somehow, it makes me feel guilty, I guess because it feels so real.”
“It feels real for me, too,” Max says, and my chest lights up with a deep kind of warmth, even though him saying that really only makes things more complicated.
“Yeah, it does,” Miles agrees.
“But, there’s two of you, and you’ve both been so kind, and I definitely don’t want to come between you.”
Max leans in and lays his hand on my knee. “You don’t have to worry about that.”
“It’s fine,” Miles says, and I have absolutely no idea what they’re implying. Is it fine because it’s all fake, and even though it sometimes feels real, they’re not losing sight of the fact that it’s all for show? Or is it fine because maybe one of them will choose me, or they think I’ll eventually choose one of them, and the other man will step aside?
Even though I managed to start this discussion, I can’t bring myself to ask them directly how they feel about me. I’m glad that I was at least honest with my feelings, so they know where I stand. I guess I’ll figure out where they stand when the wedding is over and we go back to our normal lives.
“Um … I nearly forgot. There’s a special event for the men today, while the women go to the spa. It’s a whiskey tasting at a distillery, and my mom is wondering if ‘Max’ would like to attend.” When the two of them look at each other questioningly, I add, “You don’t have to go, if you don’t feel like it.”
“Would you like to go?” Max asks Miles.
“Tonight, after the wedding rehearsal, there’s the rehearsal dinner,” I remind them.
“I’ll go to the dinner,” Miles says.
Max gets up and claps his brother on the shoulder on his way to the bathroom. “Sounds good. I’ll go sip some whiskey with the bros.”
“Thanks. My mom will appreciate you being there.”
“Happy to do it,” Max says.