Claiming Callie: Part two (29 page)

“
We kissed.
”

Jinny rolls her eyes. “Obviously. And?”

Dean shrugs, never one to kiss and tell—especially with his sister and her best
friend. That would just be creepy. “
And I don’
t know. Mom interrupted us. I
’
m not sure where we stand. We haven
’
t even had the chance to be alone since then.”

Jinny
’
s eyes pop open wide. “What? You haven
’
t talked to her at all?”

He shakes his head. “Nope.”

“So, for all you know, that kiss blew her away. And if it did…” Jinny trails off, staring at the floor. When her eyes travel back to him, she gasps. “If it did, she
’
ll probably think it meant little or nothing to you because—”

“Because I supposedly want M
aya. I know.” Dean lets out the breath he hadn
’
t realized he
’
d drawn in.

“Crap. When are you going to tell her?”

“
I don’
t know. I need to make sure it
’
s the right time. If I tell her too early, I
’
ll scare her off…
I just don’
t know.” He runs his hands thro
ugh his hair, completely destroying the gelled style. “I need some time with her today.”

“Hmmm… Now that I think about it, she
’
s been a little out of sorts today. Flighty. Maybe that
’
s a good sign.
”

Dean bites the inside of his cheek. “Yeah. Who knows. It
’
s coming up on the anniversary. I just need to find out if that
’
s the only thing occupying her mind, or if I have a piece of it.”

Please let there be more.

Jinny starts to speak, but stops when Callie enters the room. She
’
s wearing leggings and a stretched
-out sweatshirt that falls off her shoulder, exposing her bare skin.

“Hey,” Callie says and stops in her tracks. A smile flashes over her face. “What
’
s up?
” she says as she makes her way toward them. As she nears, Dean can see the places where stress—or la
ck of sleep—have nested in the shadows below her eyes.

She meets his gaze and the hope that ramps up in his chest can
’
t be forced down. His heart is on the line, and he
’
s praying it
won
’
t get crushed.

Jinny steps back and hooks a thumb in the direction of
her bedroom. “Um. I need to, er, I have some things… I
’
m leaving.” She pivots on her feet and rushes to her bedroom.

Dean rolls his eyes inwardly.
Way to not be obvious.

Dean shoves his hands in his pockets. “So…” Energy radiates between them to the point
of suffocating.

Where should I start?

Her jewel-blue eyes blink back at him. All he can do is shift his gaze from her eyes to her mouth.
Lips-mouth-kiss. Lips-mouth-kiss. Lips-mouth-kiss.
It
’
s all he can think about.

He forces his gaze away from her and c
lears his throat. “I think we need to get out of here,” he croaks.

Callie narrows her eyes, seeming to be taken aback.

Dean continues before she can say anything. “I know you
’
re having a hard time and I don
’
t know what brought that on last night, whether i
t was just the time and place, but I think you need to get your mind off of everything. Let
’
s forget the whole girlfriend thing for today. I don
’
t want to think about any of it. So let me take you out and let
’
s just have a good time.”

“
Like a date?
”

He can
feel his confidence waver. The part of him that
’
s hidden in the shadows the last seven years wants to keep hiding, but he won
’
t allow it. “
Sure. Or we don
’
t have to label it. It
’
s just two people spending time with each other, enjoying each other
’
s
company.”

The corner of Callie
’
s mouth curls up in a smile. “Okay, sure. I
’
d like that.” She pauses and runs a hand over the low ponytail that lays over her shoulder. “I need to get out. But I should go get ready first.”

“No,” he blurts, before he can stop
himself. “Let
’
s just go. You
’
re perfect like that.”

The only times he can recall seeing Callie dressed so casually is during a cleaning spree or a workout, but he loves it. She
’
s more vulnerable this way, her guard somehow lowered. This is the real Callie
, and he wants
her
. Not her fancy clothes, designer labels, or anything else she hides behind.

“I can
’
t go like this,” she says, glancing down at her clothes, her expression horrified.

“You can, and you will.” He grabs her hands and leads her toward the do
or.

“
Wait,
” she protests, but he half drags her to the entryway closet as she tries to run for her bedroom.

He flings open the closet door and grabs a down coat and hat. Tugging the hat over her head, she laughs when he starts to force her arms into the co
at. “I feel like you
’
re dressing a child.”

“
No. But we
’
re going out, and I want you just like this.”

“I never go out like this,” she says between laughs.

“Exactly. What
’
s wrong with that picture? You
’
re a college student. You need to let loose like the
rest of us. Be grungy once in a while.”

“Oh, is that what you call it? I at least need my purse.”

No way. You
’
ll use that as an excuse to go to your bedroom to freshen up or grab some clothes.

“I
’
m paying. It
’
s a date, remember?” he says, then winks at her
, enjoying the stunned way she stares at him as he gently guides her second arm in the coat, then zips it up.

They
’
re standing close now. Face to face and only a foot apart. He can smell her, the familiar scent of spice and lavender. He brushes aside the h
air in her eyes, tucking it under the hat, and whispers, “
You look perfect. Beautiful.
”

CALLIE

He brushes the hair from her face, his fingers searing right through all her pretenses, and she knows in those blue-gray eyes that he sees
her. Maybe for the first time, she realizes that he might see her better than anyone else, even Jinny. He feels her pain, knows she
’
s unravelling and that
’
s why he
’
s doing this—taking her out to relieve her from her self-imprisonment.

But what he doesn
’
t k
now... What I can
’
t tell him is that part of the reason I
’
m reeling from yesterday is not thoughts of my parents, or their anniversary, the photo albums, or wedding dress. No. It
’
s thoughts of our kiss.

She keeps replaying it over and over in her head like
a worn-out commercial, thinking that she
’
ll see something that negates or explains the way it felt.

Our kiss couldn
’
t possibly have been real. It had to have been some sort of emotionally-driven response. A result of nerves. A freak physical response.
But
as she stands there, staring into his eyes, the warmth of his fingers on her skin, she knows that there
’
s no reasoning the heat behind their lip-lock. The heart-thumping, nerves on fire, stomach-flopping, dizzying reaction is real. And she can
’
t make sens
e of it.