22. Callum
Callum
“They say love is blind, but believe me, love is insane.” — Dan, Next to Normal, “My Psychopharmacologist and I”
T he day was even a worse shit-show than usual. Every damn call we got ended up being a means to question me about my new marital status. It was annoying as hell, but that’s not what got me into this pissy mood.
Work is all I’ve had for the last decade and a half, and it’s suited me just fine…until today. Until I spent the whole day watching the clock, counting minutes until I could leave to go home. To Sophie.
I could sit here and lie to myself that it’s because I’ve been worried she would crack and spill it all to Grace, but I know better. I know she’ll stand with me until the end. I know it and don’t deserve it. I haven’t done nothing to deserve it, yet unknowing to her, she became my rock.
No, I’m eager to go home simply because I want to see her. I fought the urge to text Sophie a million times, to see what she’s doing, to prepare her for the dinner tonight that I know will be more of an interrogation.
But every time I picked up my phone to do just that, I put it away.
Just one day. One. Day. And everything’s going to hell.
I can’t allow it. I can’t get closer to her or even become her friend. That isn’t the plan. I’m already feeling protective of her and if something were to happen to her…no, I can’t get close. I can’t get invested!
I’m not the guy for her future. Yet, as soon as I can, I run out of the station and make the five-minute drive in three.
I’m just about to walk inside the apartment building when the bright pink shining lights of Naughty Nox, Grace’s lingerie boutique, catches my eye, and their conversation and Sophie’s sad eyes from earlier today comes back to me.
Without thinking, I step away from the door to the building and toward the pink lights.
The little heart-shaped bell dings when I enter. Immediately, Grace’s wide eyes meet mine.
Damn it, of course she’s here. Why hadn’t I thought of that? Well, I’m not thinking much, period, as I made my way here. The only thing I know is that I want to do something for Sophie, and this morning she wanted sexy lingerie that she didn’t get.
“Well, well, well, what brings you to my humble shop, Mr. Steals-your-best-friend?”
“Do you ever stop being dramatic?”
“Nope,” comes from behind her as Luke appears at her side.
Great, he’s here as well.
“Ready to talk?” he asks me. “You could’ve just called, I’d meet you somewhere other than my wife’s sex shop.”
“Luke.” Grace slaps his arm. “It’s not a sex shop.”
“It totally is, wild one.” He grins, kissing her cheek before he steps away. “Okay, let’s go somewhere else.”
“Sorry to disappoint but I wasn’t looking for your sorry ass. So, I’m not going anywhere with you,” I tell him.
“Then why are you here?” He looks confused.
“What does it look like? To shop.”
“For what?” Luke looks even more confused.
“Oh, Jesus Christ,” I mutter. “Obviously not for myself.” I look over him to Grace. “I need whatever it is you’d buy for Sophie’s bachelorette party.”
“Wait, you’re here to buy lingerie? For Sophie?” Luke’s face twists. “Why?”
“Did you fall from the tree today while saving a kitten? She’s my wife, why else?”
Jesus, he makes it sound as if I’m moving mountains over here. Which is what Sophie deserves, but since I’m not the moving mountains kind of guy, this is the least I can do.
“Aw, that’s so romantic.” Grace sighs behind him, and we both twist to look at her. “What? It is! You should take notes, you know.” She quirks an eyebrow at her husband.
“I prefer you without any.”
“Ugh, I don’t need to know that,” I tell them.
Grace giggles. “There are some on display behind you, just choose any set or one-piece you like.”
I turn around, to the long wall full of delicate hangers with even more delicate lace and silk hanging from them.
My eyes trail from one piece to the next, and immediately I picture them on my wife’s perfect body.
Her peach ass wrapped in the hot pink lace, leaving nothing to the imagination, or those forest green silky thongs that would slip right in between her cheeks, taunting me.
I can see her perky nipples poking through the mesh material with daisies on them as I suck each one into my mouth.
Fuck…my cock twitches behind my zipper and that’s before my gaze settles on a mannequin wearing what looks like strings without the bottom part. It would leave her sex wide open to me.
Fuck…not to me. Not. To. Me.
“So? Which one can I get you?” Grace’s voice startles me, and I have to clear my throat before speaking .
“All of them.”
She blinks. “What do you mean, all of them?”
“That’s exactly what I mean. Get me one of each in her size.”
“And what size is that?” She quirks an eyebrow.
“I can show it to you with my hands, will that work? Because that’s how I know her size.” And will never erase from my mind now.
Grace rolls her eyes, muttering, “Men,” before she strolls away and starts picking out piece after piece in the correct size, and my gaze turns to a stunned-looking Luke.
“What the fuck are you doing, Callum?”
I pay for the lingerie, grab the bag Grace hands me, and leave the boutique without answering him.
Because I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.
“Husband? Is that you?” Sophie’s voice greets me as soon as I enter, and an unwilling smile tugs on my lips.
“The one and only,” I call back, and a second later she floats out of the room.
Yes, floats. That’s the only way to describe it as Sophie comes toward me in a short polka-dot dress with thin straps that hits her mid-thigh and an oversized red knit cardigan.
Her short hair is parted off to the side, revealing small studs in her ears in the shape of a lemon.
The same shape as the small across her body.
On her feet are her trusty old Converse that she wore to our wedding, and I’m getting a sense that those are her moral support shoes.
She’s one chaotic mess. And, Jesus Christ, I’ve never seen a more beautiful mess in my life.
“I’m ready to go to your parents’ place. Are you going to change? Wait, you still didn’t bring any of your clothes here.”
I’m standing there gaping at her, completely speechless, when she comes right up to me and looks down at the large bag in my hands. Before she can ask, I thrust it in her hands, like a moron, and she barely has enough time to clutch it before it could fall to the ground.
“Um, Shrek? What is this?” Sophie asks, peeking over the tissue paper Grace stuffed on top.
“It’s yours,” I grunt, still unable to form normal, human words.
“Mine?” She tilts her head down, looking at me from underneath her lashes.
“Yeah.”
“Did Grace ask you to give this to me?”
“No.”
“Okayyy.” She walks over to the kitchen counter, setting the bag down and pulls the tissue paper out, revealing the contents.
Sophie gasps, her wide chocolate eyes shooting up to mine. “Clover? What is this?”
“Lingerie.”
“I can see that. There’s a lot of lingerie here. A lot of fancy, expensive lingerie from Grace’s boutique. But why is it here?”
“It’s for you.”
“For me?” she asks dumbfounded. “Who bought it?”
“I did.”
Sophie freezes for a second, just blinking wildly at me.
“Clover,” she squeaks, her voice going up to the highest pitch it could before she lowers it to a whisper-shout, “That’s like worth hundreds of dollars—probably even more!
Oh my God, are you insane?” she asks, slapping a hand over her mouth but not before I catch the smile on it.
And I definitely don’t miss the glimmer of excitement in her eyes.
I shrug. Honestly, I don’t even know what I paid for it and don’t care. I’d pay ten times that to see her happy like this. To see that shocked smile, that sparkle in her eyes.
Sophie deserves to have it all.
“It was nothing.” I tame down my own roller coaster of emotions.
“It is not nothing!” she protests, ripping through the bag as she looks over each piece that’s in there .
“Well, you were sad this morning that you wouldn’t get any because you didn’t get to have that whole party thing. So…” I trail off and shrug again.
“So you went and bought out the whole store for me?” Sophie asks in awe. “Clover…” This time, it’s her turn to trail off as her eyes start to shimmer with a whole new emotion.
Oh no, dear Lord, not the tears. I have no idea what to do with tears.
“Please tell me you’re not about to cry right now.”
She sniffles. “No.” Her answer comes out wobbly. “I wouldn’t dare.”
“You better not.” I narrow my eyes at her while internally freaking out, because fuck, what am I supposed to do if she cries.
Sophie let's out a teary giggle. “Stop trying to incinerate me with your look. Even if I do cry, you’ll have to suck it up and deal with it.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Well, then stop doing nice things for me.”
Jesus, she thinks this was something nice enough to cry over? Who did she date before?
“This was nothing. You deserve so much more.”
“Oh, damn it.” She stomps her little foot and starts fanning her face. “You only have yourself to blame now.”
“Why?”
“Because now I’m definitely crying.”
“Fuck,” I hiss out, and before I know what I’m doing my arms are wrapping around her small body, pulling it into mine. Her minty scent penetrating my lungs. “Should I take it back, would that make you stop crying?”
“Ouch.” Sophie swats my arm, and I pull away to find her adorable angry face.
“Don’t even think about it. It’s mine now.” She pulls away from my hold, hoarding the bag protectively, and stomps away into the room with it.
Jesus, I run my hand over the back of my neck, chuckling silently. Where did this girl come from ?
A moment later she reappears. “Let’s go to your parents’ place before you do something else nice to make me cry again.”
I laugh at her angry tone, as if it’s really my fault she had to cry. “I wouldn’t dare.”