Chapter 16
Oliver
The sun eventually breaks through the curtains, dancing to its own perfect rhythm on our ceiling. Based on the relentless teasing from the clock on my bedside table, I’ve been awake for nearly four hours. Four tortuous hours. Thinking. Recalculating.
Hoping.
The bed creaks as Callie stirs, and the leap in my chest is honestly ridiculous. Sighing, the woman sleeping beside me settles back into her peaceful dreamstate.
Rubbing my hands back and forth over my face, there’s no use lying to myself anymore.
There’s not a single part of me that’s left unconvinced, that hasn’t already succumbed to the reality in front of me.
Or beside me, I suppose. What was supposed to be nothing more than a simple transaction has turned into this.
And if I’m really being honest with myself, I think I knew I was done back on Thanksgiving.
It would’ve seemed premature, sure. But looking back, there was never any other path.
When Calloway Rutherford walked into my office that first day, I was a goner.
I just didn’t know it yet.
One more glance at the clock and I know John’s awake. Even on vacation, the man never sleeps. It drove me crazy back in college. He would be up before dawn with his workout done, breakfast eaten, and ready for whatever the day held.
But I’m taking advantage of his insanity this morning.
Careful not to wake the woman who has my heart, I climb out of bed and slip on my houseshoes and coat.
Grabbing my phone off the charger, I pad over to the sliding glass door and step onto the balcony, shutting the door softly behind me.
With one more peek back through the window to make sure I didn’t disturb Callie, I dial John’s number.
Like the early riser he is, he answers on the first ring. “What’s wrong?” The man sounds as if he’s already had a couple cups of coffee.
Much too alert for this early in the morning.
“Why do you assume something’s wrong?”
John scoffs through the phone. “Gee, I dunno. Maybe because you’re calling me at six in the morning on Christmas Eve while you’re on a trip pretending to be a boyfriend in love?”
The morning landscape is breathtaking, but it doesn’t fully distract from the bitter cold of the winter dawn. Shuddering, I mentally curse myself for not bothering to throw on a hoodie, too.
Or socks.
“Spit it out, man.” John’s voice has officially transitioned into Dad Mode.
“You’ve always been too in tune with me, you know that? It’s annoying.”
Silence rings through on the other end of the call. When my best friend speaks again, the weight of his words nearly knocks me off my feet. “You’re in love with Callie.” John chuckles under his breath, trying to cover it with a cough. “Well … can’t really say I’m all that surprised, man.”
“Thanks for the marvelous insight. Can we try again, please?” I snap.
“Easy, Oliver,” he says, voice calm. “Tell me about how you’re feeling.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I exhale slowly. “I don’t know.”
“You do.”
I really hate it when he’s right. “I … I don’t want to scare her.”
“Did you bring your Friday the 13th mask?”
A reluctant laugh forces its way out. “That was one Halloween, dude.” I sigh. “I haven’t seen that thing since I was seventeen.”
“Sure, but you still showed it to Candace Mason and she dumped her punch down your shirt at the school dance.”
“Yeah, that wasn’t my best work.”
Laughing, he says, “So, are you afraid she doesn’t feel the same way?”
Scrunching my face, I consider his question. “Not exactly.”
John hmms through the phone. “Do you think she does feel the same, then?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Everything feels so natural between us. So real. If she doesn’t share my feelings, she’s a good actress.”
“The only way you’ll know is if you ask.”
“What if she feels pressured?”
John scoffs. “Have you met Callie? That woman has grown up under tremendous pressure and has become an incredible person in spite of it all. I highly doubt you telling her about your feelings will make Callie want to shove a cactus in your face.”
“I don’t want to make things awkward between us, though.”
“Had you planned to see one another anytime after the holidays?”
Scratching my second-day beard growth, I exhale loudly. “Not exactly.”
“Then what do you have to lose? If you tell her and she feels the same, then great. Welcome to your forever. If not, you don’t have to see her after these next couple days and then you can move on.”
“You make it sound so easy,” I snort. “Too bad I don’t think it’s quite that simple. And if you really believe that, then you’ve never felt like this.”
“Look,” John’s voice lowers to barely a whisper, “I didn’t think I would ever be able to feel anything again after Angela left.”
My heart drops in my chest. “John, I’m sorry man. I didn’t mean—”
“Oliver, it’s fine.” He sighs. “Because you’re right.
What Angie and I had … that wasn’t love.
At least, not like it should be. Everything was conditional, and you and I both know better than that.
We tell other families every single day what loving relationships should look like, and I can admit that what we had wasn’t it.
But I know that if I ever got the chance to have something real, I would do everything in my power to keep it.
For my sake, and for Cecilia’s.” The weight of John using his daughter’s full name isn’t lost on me.
He only opts for it when he means business.
“What’s really scaring you, Ollie? Surely it’s not the commitment? ”
Shaking my head, I answer with a strong, “No, not at all. I’d buy a ring today if I knew she felt the same way. I think it’s more that I didn’t, um—”
“You weren’t expecting this deal to lead to her,” he finishes, “and so quickly.”
“It was always supposed to be a transaction,” I whisper, “nothing more. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not even trying to deny what I’m feeling. I … I’ve wanted this. With her. For a while now … I’ve only ever felt like this with her.”
“But what if Callie doesn’t think any of this is real.” John sighs, already aware of my answer.
“Right.”
“I think you know what you have to do next.”
A soft knock against the glass behind me sounds through the crisp air. Turning around, I’m welcomed with the sight of Callie’s warm smile grinning at me from the other side of the thick door. The smile that takes over my face is instant, a reflex.
And she beams right back.
Raising a finger to signal that I’ll be right in, Callie nods and points to the bathroom before leaving me alone again.
“Oliver?”
“Sorry, Callie’s awake,” I breathe. “Listen man, thanks for this. For talking through everything.”
John chuckles on the other end of the line. “Of course. Let me know how it goes.”
Saying our goodbyes, I head back into the warmth of our room that welcomes me with open arms. “Callie?” I call. Kicking off my houseshoes, I hang my coat back in the closet.
The woman of the hour emerges from the bathroom, dressed in a garnet sweater and jeans with wool socks, carrying a small cosmetic bag. “Hey,” she smiles. “Merry Christmas Eve.” Her long hair falls in effortless waves down her back as she places the miniscule bag on the dresser.
“Merry Christmas Eve.”
“You’re up early.” Callie lifts a brow in my direction as she makes her way back to her side of the bed.
Shrugging, I watch as she unplugs her phone and stuffs it in her back pocket. “Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d check on John and Cici.”
Her perfect brow furrows. “You woke him up?”
“He’s an early riser,” I explain. “By the time I called, it’s very likely he had already been to the gym, fed the hog, solved world hunger and won a Nobel Peace Prize.”
“Wow.”
“And that’s just since we saw him yesterday afternoon.”
Callie blinks, crossing her arms. “That sounds like quite the itinerary for what’s supposed to be a relaxing vacation.”
“Speaking of which, what’s on the agenda today?” I ask, clearing my throat. “Anything particularly romantic?”
“Oh, plenty of activities that will require lots of lovey dovey PDA since we’re madly in love and all,” Callie snickers.
Forcing myself to swallow, I think about John’s words. “Callie, I think we should—”
Three brisk raps on our door ring out through the room. “Calloway, open up,” Chris calls through the thick door, “unless you and Dr. Hotness are naked. In that case, just talk through the door.”
My interest piques at this new nickname that has clearly been used before.
Heat floods Callie’s cheeks. Groaning, she rolls her eyes and goes to open the door. “What?” she demands.
Chris, fully dressed and ready for the day, stands in our doorway, scowling and looking completely unamused to be in our presence this early in the morning.
Like Callie, he wears jeans and a sweater.
But where her top perfectly compliments her ruby hair, Chris’s looks like the machine exploded in the middle of the pattern.
“I thought I told you to just talk through the door if you were naked.”
Callie frowns, glancing down at her attire. “You’re an idiot.”
“I meant him.” Her brother nods in my direction.
Plastering on the fakest smile, I salute the biggest prick in the Rutherford family. And that’s saying something. “Good morning to you too, man.”
Casting a quick look my way, Callie swings her gaze back to him. “Chris, have you ever seen a naked person? Because that is clearly not what’s happening here,” she says, motioning to me.
Chris rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Mom wants to know if you’ll help with the cinnamon rolls this year since Imogene nearly burned the kitchen down last time.”
My love rears back. “Really?”
“For breakfast?” I ask, brow furrowing. “Those take hours to make from scratch.”
Callie sends a warm smile my way. “Whoever’s the designated baker of the holiday works on them throughout the day while everyone else is out, then we have them while we sit around the tree and thaw out from spending all morning in the snow.”