10. CALLUM
10
CALLUM
Save me a dance tonight?
CHLOE: I don’t dance
I’ll teach you
CHLOE: Let me rephrase that. I don’t dance with boys.
Good thing I’m a man
CHLOE: TBD
Trying to find out?
CHLOE: Some mysteries are better left unsolved
What are you wearing tonight?
CHLOE: Trying to coordinate?
No, only boys do that
“Hey,” Liam and I greet Chloe and Natalie as we enter the roped-off section on the outskirts of the club.
The section is complete with a curved couch, matching oversized chairs, and a table in the center. It’s nothing like the places in London. Still sick, though, with two floors, a DJ at the front of a dance floor, and a large bar that takes up an entire wall.
Clubs are all the same to me nowadays though, not my scene. Girls are better found at bars or restaurants.
Or in the bathroom of your best friend’s apartment.
I wasn’t entirely excited about tonight after Emerson called to invite me. Then Chloe texted me, asking if Liam and I would come. She’s meddling in their relationship, and whatever outcome comes out of tonight, I am not to be blamed, but I will gladly watch.
Chloe stands and walks over to us, but I watch as Natalie doesn’t. She stays seated and nods at Liam, her face not faltering from its stoic expression. Pulls out her phone, the light not casting a friendly glow on her face, to probably post a story or video. She’s an influencer.
“Hey.” Chloe goes in for a hug. “Thanks for coming.”
I give her a squeeze, kissing either cheek. “You look—”
She raises her eyebrows.
“As if you belong hanging on the ceiling.” I point to the large, round, reflective ball swinging from a chain on the ceiling. What are those called?
“Are you talking about a disco ball?” Liam interjects.
“Yeah, that.” I tilt my chin down at Chloe. “Yeah, my apologies. You look like a disco ball. Dazzling.”
“No wonders you don’t have a girlfriend. You're lucky, I’m going to take that as a compliment.” She crosses her arms over her chest. Giving me a once-over. “ Hmm. ”
“Yes? ”
“Silver wasn’t your color?” Right, because she wears it so well. “This definitely isn’t.” Chloe drops an arm, fingers rubbing the hem of my orange shirt. “Stick to Earth tones.”
“Didn’t know the fashion police was invited,” Liam says.
“Watch it, Hayes. I was starting to like you.” Her head turns slowly to glare at Liam.
“You love me.” He wraps an arm around her shoulder, and I don’t like it. Why is he touching her?
“I don’t, actually.”
I remove his arm from her.
Chloe gestures to the space, letting us know what is reserved for the night.
Liam and I sit on the couch. Chloe finds a spot in the chair beside Natalie, who still hasn’t picked her head up from her phone.
Blake and Ben arrive shortly after we do.
Small world, but Ben, who works for Hayes Hotels, is engaged to Blake, who works with Emerson. Just to make it a bit smaller, Emerson is also their wedding photographer.
Whenever I think about how big the Earth is and how many people live on it, it blows my mind how small in reality it is. How minuscule we are compared to the universe, respectively.
“Where is the birthday girl?” Blake asks. “I thought you three went to dinner before this?”
“Oh. . . um. . .” Chloe glances at Natalie for backup.
Natalie sits up straighter, crossing one skinny leg over the other. “She went to get someone.”
Liam tenses next to me.
Blake is biting her lip.
My head snaps to Chloe’s. I toss my hands out in a what the heck motion.
She looks past me to Liam and opens her mouth to speak. Before any excuse can roll off her tongue, I speak up. “Next time, warn a mate. ”
CHLOE
“I love this song ,” the birthday girl shouts. “ You make me feel like I’m living the teenage dream. ” Her eyes sparkle as the beat changes; the DJ mixes the Katy Perry bop with “Sugar, We’re Goin Down,” a favorite of mine.
“You two should go dance,” Blake, Emerson’s coworker, shouts between her cupped hands. Shoulders bouncing and swaying to the beat. Her fiancé’s upper body dances beside her on the couch.
“Do you want to dance, Emme?”
“Is water wet?” Her smile makes me smile.
Emerson stands up, adjusting her dress after flashing me her tan cheeks. “Oops,” she giggles. Liam’s eyes follow her as if they were a spotlight, body lunging forward as she stumbles over herself.
I grasp her waist, steadying her.
“Where should we dance?” she asks me.
“It’s your birthday. You make the rules.”
My best friend drops her hand in front of me, palm up. There’s a mischievous glint in her emerald eyes. “Should we?”
She doesn’t need to tell me what she’s referring to, I already know. “We should.”
I take her hand, interlocking our fingers.
Everyone talks about their soul mate—yes, I know Emerson and Liam are meant to be, and I’m rooting for that. Team Limerson forever—but she’s my soulmate, too. She’s my person.
Emerson Clarke is the platonic love of my life.
The one that gets me.
I met her when I needed someone the most.
I don’t think I’ll ever find a love like she has with Liam, but I’m okay with that because I have her.
Natalie picks up on our intentions and clears off the table in the center of our roped-off section. She sits back in one of the chairs, brushing a blonde curl from her forehead .
“Do you want to join us?” Emerson asks her.
Natalie shakes her head no.
“Okay,” Emerson says, disappointed, but hides it behind a smile.
Whatever is going on with Natalie lately, it’s not cool. She’s been behaving differently. More pulled away, not as bubbly or center of attention seeking. Now I have to use both hands to count the times she hasn’t stepped in to help or check in on Emerson—or dance on a table, it’s her birthday, for fuck’s sake.
Natalie and Emerson have been friends since elementary school, but Natalie doesn’t treat her that way. I have one childhood friend, and I’d never treat her this way.
I like Natalie, but damn, does she piss me off.
I tug on Emerson’s hand. “After you.”
Emerson steps up on the table, pulling me up behind her. We can’t be more than a foot or two off the ground.
Together, we move to the rhythm as best as we can. Emerson cannot dance to save her life, but I’ve got a few hidden dance genes. I grew up with my parents dancing around the kitchen, swooping my brothers and me in with them.
Our hips sway right then left. I wrap an arm around her shoulders, tugging her into me. Her arms shoot up in the air as she plants her feet and dances down my body. She turns to face me, and we take turns shimmying toward each other, singing the lyrics and throwing our hair around.
Like the little devil she is sometimes, over her shoulder, she points at Liam and winks as the lyrics ‘my heart stops when you look at me. Just one touch, now, baby I believe this is real’ pour out of the speakers.
The date she did bring is long gone.
I flip a quick peek over my shoulder at Callum. He’s glued to my every movement. I might not be wearing skin-tight jeans, but from how he’s staring, I bet I’m his teenage dream.
“ Stop staring ,” I mouth, and the left side of his mouth hooks up, his second dimple sneaking out to play .
“ Everyone is staring at you ,” he mouths back. “I’m succumbing to peer pressure.”
The song ends, my arms around Emerson, I kiss her temple. “Happy birthday, States,” I say into her ear, using Liam and Cal’s nickname for her.
“They’ve converted you,” she groans.
“Only casting my vote.”
Emerson rolls her eyes. “One more dance?”
I nod, twirling her around. Then she twirls me.
At some point during that song, Cal disappears from our group. Scanning the crowd, I can’t spot him.
Slowly, everyone else trickles out, too, going to the actual dance floor, bar, or bathroom. Even Natalie unglued herself from the chair to dance with a random stranger.
“I have to pee,” I tell Emerson.
“I’ll go with you.” She steps off the table, grabbing for her purse.
Doing a quick scan, I notice that Liam is the only person left in the area.
“You should stay,” I encourage her.
“You’re playing games.”
“Talk to him.”
I don’t give her a chance to negotiate; I walk away and not toward the bathroom.