Some Kind of Perfect (Calloway Sisters #4.5) (15 page)

He steps to the right, giving me more room to stand. I mutter a
thank you
and raise my chin like Rose. Who are we bringing to the party? I draw a blank at first, but as soon as I see him, it clicks.

Sitting fixatedly in front of a computer, a twenty-one-year-old with big bulky headphones and messy brown hair types incessantly. His fingers pound the keyboard, not even noticing the strands of hair that hang into his eyes.

“Garrison,” Connor says, loud enough that anyone nearby can hear. Even hovering right
in front of his cubicle, Garrison still never lifts his head. He’s transfixed with whatever’s on that computer.

Connor shifts, now able to wave a hand in front of the screen.

His eyes find Connor and then me, and all the while, he continues to type. Multitasking. Not my forte, but I envy those who can. So useful, it’s like a superpower all in itself.

“What do you want?” Garrison snaps, his focus returning to Connor, who also happens to be his boss. Last year, Connor invested in whatever startup Garrison chose, but Garrison’s choice is still a mystery to everyone. He claims he’s in the “early development” stages.

“You’re done for the day,” Connor says. “I need you to come with us.”

Garrison frowns and swings his head to me.
He’s still typing.
“Is this work related?”

“Umm…” I don’t know what to say.
Yes? No?
I shrug.

“Will you come with us if it isn’t?” Connor asks.

“No.”

Recently, we’ve all been a little worried about him. With Willow in London, he doesn’t have a lot of friends in Philadelphia, and he never talks about his family to Lo or me. They only live one street over, but his parents aren’t very social with any of us.

“Then it’s work related,” Connor replies. “Grab your things.”

Garrison yanks his headphones to his neck. To me, he says, “Just tell me where we’re going and why.”

I cave.

Mostly because this is Garrison, and he worked at Superhero & Scones before he ever migrated to Cobalt Inc. Sincerity even fills his blue-green eyes, and I can’t say no to it.

“Ryke’s house—or cottage.” We all call it a cottage; I don’t know why I called it a house. “It’s a surprise party for Connor.”

Connor has no reaction towards the venue of his party. He
really
keeps his emotions padlocked at work.

Garrison’s face scrunches up like we’re both insane. “How is this a surprise birthday if you know? And why the hell do you want me to go?”

“Surprising me is so rare that everyone uses the term loosely.” Then he points at the computer. “You’re here at six in the morning and you leave at midnight.
Seven
days a week. While I appreciate your work ethic, as your friend, it’s disconcerting.”

I didn’t know any of that. Garrison never kept those kind of hours at Superheroes & Scones, but that was also when Willow lived here.

Garrison inhales a tight breath, but he doesn’t really exhale. “You’re my boss, not my friend.”

“I’m both,” Connor says easily, “and since you seem to be lacking in the friend department lately, I wouldn’t turn my back on one, especially friendships as valuable as mine.”

I stick up for Garrison. “Having no friends isn’t a bad thing.”

Garrison pinches his eyes. “Can you both just shut up?” After a short moment of thought, he rolls back in his chair, grabs his backpack and slings it over his shoulder. His ripped jeans and black hoodie contrasts the suit and ties of other employees.

I doubt he cares about conforming to the proper business attire.

Garrison stands five inches shorter than Connor. “If I go, you have to stop calling me your friend. We’re not, okay?” Before Connor speaks, Garrison turns on me. “And I have friends…” He pauses and corrects himself, “One friend. She’s just not here.”

Connor casually checks his watch. “Most people would be on their knees to be my friend. This just illustrates your lack of judgment.”

He never fails at reminding us all how special he is, even in this backhanded way, and no matter how old we are and how many years pass, I can’t help but agree.

Connor Cobalt is one of a kind.

Garrison nods and says dryly, “Thanks, boss.”

“Follow me.” Connor motions to both of us, and now we’re off to the party. At least I’ve succeeded on my part. I didn’t fail like I thought I would’ve.

Garrison and I trail Connor on our way to the elevators. I don’t rush to keep up with Connor anymore. I stick with Garrison’s pace. As we pass a copy machine, he whispers to me, “Just so you know, you’re my favorite boss.”

I shouldn’t take pride in that fact, since Garrison was just clearly insulted by Connor, but I hold onto it anyway.

Favorite Boss Award Goes To…

I smile wide.

* * *

I cup the speaker of my phone by my mouth. “We’re walking up to the cottage now.” I trail Connor and Garrison and try not to trip on the slick stone set into the grass. Smoke plumes out of the chimney, the cottage all gray stone. It suits Ryke and Daisy the same way that the enormous, regal Cobalt estate resembles my older sister and her husband.

My house is simple and more common in comparison to theirs. Just red brick, a regular kind of yard, no fountains or tulip trees, no quaint windows or a hand-built tree house. I like simple, and I know Lo does too.

“Is he at the door?” Rose’s voice echoes through my phone.

“Not yet.” The white front door has half a window, but they must’ve taped paper over it because I can’t see inside.

The blinds snap on another window, and a pair of yellow-green eyes darts from left to right until they narrow on Connor. They disappear faster than lightning.

“I saw you,” I whisper-hiss.

“Shhh,” she retorts.

She’s shushing me?
I put the speaker closer to my lips. “I fulfilled my role. I’d like some appreciation for chaperoning a
genius
.” Connor is at the front door, and I think he heard me. He glances over his shoulder with this look like
do you really believe you’re being quiet?

Right.

He has superhuman hearing.

Superman.

“Thank you, Lily.” Rose sounds grateful. And then she hangs up on me.

I squint at Connor as I approach. “Are you sure you don’t have a bodysuit beneath your shirt?”

Garrison doesn’t try to figure out what I’m saying. He apathetically leans against the stone siding.

Connor stares down at me. “If I said
no
, would you believe me?”

I think for a second. Superman wouldn’t give up his secret identity, would he? “Only if you showed me. I’d need evidence.”

Without hesitation, Connor begins unbuttoning his white button-down, and my whole face sears, red-hot as his bare chest comes into view. As he
strips
for me.

“Nonono,” I slur, “that’s okay.” I’d like to have Connor’s shameless attitude, but then again, he’s in a league of his own. “I believe you. I believe you!”

His amused smile only makes my neck burn. “I’m glad,” he says casually and leaves two of his buttons undone. Then he turns the doorknob, and we all step inside.

“SURPRISE!!”

The household says all at once. Moffy, Jane, Beckett, and Charlie are front-and-center, tossing confetti at Connor. Daisy is knelt by Sulli, helping her little baby join the other kids. Note to self: the hot-tempered triad does
not
throw confetti at parties. Rose, Lo, and Ryke are nowhere near the little bits of paper.

“Happy Birthday, Daddy!” Jane is the first to say, tossing another handful of confetti from this little pink pail.

I skirt around Connor to see his reaction.

He’s smiling at all the children.

He’s smiling.

Rose is too.

And then they lock eyes, and I swear the world slows for a second or two. The nerd stars are a powerful force while in orbit. I touch my cheeks, my dopey grin hurting my face.

I step forward in a daze—ohmyGod, I crash into something hard and I fall down on top of it. Is that…I shriek in horror.
I’m lying on top of Connor Cobalt!
Or a cardboard version…his smug grin is right by my lips. I have my hands on his shoulders.

Wha….is this?

Abort! Abort! Instinct and panic overtake me. I roll off this cardboard thing about as graceful as someone unfurling a burrito. I shut my eyes tight and repeat a good mantra:
I did not lie on top of Connor Cobalt. I did not lie on top of Connor Cobalt.

I only stop rolling when my body hits the back of the couch. I sense someone crouching over me, and I open my eyes to dimpled cheeks, a rising smile, and warm amber eyes. I don’t know how it’s possible, but Loren Hale has grown even more handsome with age.

When I look in the mirror, I’m still gangly Lily, a girl who could be mistaken for a fifteen-year-old, no matter how much time passes. Inside, though, I feel older. Stronger. Maybe even a tad bit wiser.

It’s the insides that count the most.

Not sexually being inside, just
inside,
inside. I scrunch my nose at my thoughts.

His smile curves higher. “You alright, love?”

I shake my head. “That
thing
came out of nowhere. I was doomed from the start.”

“I did the same thing,” he tells me. “So it looks like I was doomed with you.”

I try hard not to smile. “From the very start?”

Lo nods. “From the very start, Lily Hale.” And then he lifts me in a front-piggyback. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, his lips close to my lips. I like Lo’s lips
much
better than Connor’s.

I’m entranced by him and only him. His hands cup my ass as he holds me around his waist, and his gaze dances around my features with this headiness that I know I share.

I abruptly kiss him, my heart racing, and before I worry that I kissed him at an inappropriate time, he reciprocates with almost as much need. One of his hands leaves my ass, and he clutches the back of my head, deepening the kiss until oxygen cages in my lungs.

I grind forward.

He slows, and my heart lurches sideways.

I can’t pounce on him like a horny tiger.
Not right now at least. I remember that we’re in a semi-public setting, filled with friends and
children.
Maximoff is busy making “confetti angels” in the heap that covers the hardwood, Jane with him. My toddler is oblivious to my own struggle, which is how I like it.

Lo strokes my hair once, and his lips brush against my ear. “It’s okay, Lil.” His encouragement relaxes my shoulders, and I tell him I’m going to shift to his back.

Front-piggybacks can be dangerous territory.

He sets me down, and then I jump on his back. Now in a regular piggyback, I go to the kitchen with Lo, a fresh bowl of salsa and a bag of chips on the counter.

“Happy fucking Birthday,” Ryke says as he picks up the half-crinkled cardboard cutout of Connor Cobalt.

Connor has Beckett in his arms while he appraises the cardboard version of himself.

“He loves it,” I whisper to Lo, who hands me a chip. I crunch, glad he didn’t put too much spicy salsa on mine.

“Nah, he seems ambivalent.” Lo nods towards Rose who rocks Charlie back and forth, the little baby falling asleep against her chest. “Queen Rose looks ready to call this a birthday failure.”

I squint towards my older sister. She seems her natural self. Rigid but not in a
I’m-calling-this-party-a-shit-show
kind of way. She’s as likely to roll her eyes and smile as she is to glare and huff.

“Who bought the cutout?” I ask in another whisper.

“Daisy found it on some celebrity site.”

I imagine fans putting a life-sized Connor Cobalt in their bedroom, right next to a Damon Salvatore or a Harry Styles. I don’t think Connor would mind either.

Connor finally reacts, his million-dollar grin as rich as his clothes. He captures Ryke’s gaze. “So my birthday present is
you
admitting you’re my biggest fan.”

Rose tries to contain a snort with her hand.

Lo actually laughs aloud, tossing another chip in his mouth.

Ryke flips them both off, and then glowers at Connor. “It’s a fucking decoration.”

“If you desired to look at me everyday, I’d suggest the real version, not this inferior one, but I’m sure this is the best you could do.”

Ryke nods a couple times. “Me not punching you right now is your real fucking birthday present. So you better get it all out while you can, Cobalt.”

Instead of giving Ryke a hard time, Connor scans the first floor: the gold and black decorations, the banner with
Happy 30
th
Birthday Connor!
, the balloons, all of us here together.