Page 47

Forty-Four

I shut Kailey out—not on purpose, I realize my sister made a mistake—and keep Fran’s arm tucked in mine. I whirl around, scanning the partygoers until?—

There she is.

Long blonde hair.

Tight red dress.

High heels that make her already long legs look like they could stretch from here to Oklahoma.

I never said Simone wasn’t attractive.

But in the time we’ve been apart, I’ve been able to examine her, examine our relationship, and see all the things wrong with it. She’s a beautiful girl who isn’t really beautiful at all.

Simone is the reason I believe my life doesn’t necessarily need love to be happy.

Toxic .

Yes, my game went downhill the day Simone and I started dating, and it didn’t improve until the day I met Fran. But it’s more than that. With Simone, I avoided my family. I felt less grateful for my circumstances. I tied love to success and taking. If Fran is my good luck charm, Simone is my curse.

When did I become so superstitious?

I suppose, since my stats, wins, and joy became tied to the woman I kiss goodnight.

Like a serpent, Simone sucked the happy out of my game, out of my life, and I couldn’t quite get it back until I saw Fran Fairchild sing really off-key karaoke. Or maybe it wasn’t until I kissed her.

I’ve been staring ahead long enough that Fran has spotted Simone as well. No whispering clues needed.

“Blonde,” she mutters beside me. “Of course she’s blonde.”

While Fran is adorably cute, most would say that Simone is insanely sexy. And yet—I am no longer attracted to the woman. Not in the least. In fact, Fran Fairchild singing karaoke, climbing over walls, and forcing me to walk through a field of wet reeds is ten times sexier than that viper.

Why it took so long for me to come into the light, I’ll never know. My best friend knew it. My mother knew it. And yet, it took me months to figure out. Months of playing my worst, seeing myself as a win or a loss, and even separating myself from the people I love.

“So, what’s our play here?” Fran asks, interrupting all my enlightenment. “I can make myself scarce so you can talk to her.” She swallows, her tone vulnerable.

“No,” I say. “You don’t need to do that.” I rest my hand over her fingers clasped around my arm. “I don’t want you to do that.”

“Okay,” she says, and this time she sounds stronger .

I’ve given the right answer, which calms the discomfort attempting to rise in my chest.

“Am I pretending to be your girlfriend? Half the people here think I am anyway.”

“No.” I don’t want that either. I don’t want to use Fran in any way. No pretending. I won’t abuse our relationship or her. “Just be you. That’s all I need.”

“Lucky charm,” she says.

“Lucky to have you with me,” I say.

Teasing, she flutters her lashes up at me. “Aw, Cal.”

I chuckle and instinctively lean down to peck her cheek. Raising my head, I blow out a puff of air—Simone’s watching us.

“Are we avoiding or approaching?” Fran asks.

“I think we better approach. Maybe we can talk her into leaving. I can’t have toxicity at my mother’s once-a-year soirée.”

“We can’t have that,” Fran says. She draws her eyes back up to me. “She’s that bad?”

“I’m sorry to say—yes. Because of that woman, I hardly talked to my family for months. I was sure I was wasting my worth playing a game. And I cost my team multiple wins.”

Fran’s arm through mine squeezes. “Your worth is tied to your goodness, Cal. And you’re the best man I know. Do you realize that?”

I smile down at her. “Thanks, Franny.”

We start toward the bed of live gardenias my mother had planted especially for this party when I slip my hand down Fran’s arm and entwine our fingers. I’m not pretending—I’m supporting myself with a girl that makes me feel like me. That’s all there is to it.

Her fingers tighten in mine. I’m proud of my Fran—Simone has an intimidating air about her, but Fran holds her head high.

“Simone,” I say once we’re close enough.

“Hello, Callum.”

“What are you doing here?” I wasted enough time dancing around this woman and her manipulation. So—let’s get straight to the point.

“I was invited,” she says, her eyes purposely glued to me and never gracing Fran with a glance. This is one of her moves. She’s good at shutting people out or making them feel less than.

But I’m done letting that happen.

“This is Fran.” I keep my hand in Fran’s—there will be no handshake greeting between these two.

“Hi,” Fran says, too sweet to be in the presence of a snake.

Simone doesn’t return the gesture though. No, she doesn’t take her eyes off me. “Can we talk? Alone?”

“Fran is my special guest. And you were accidentally invited to this party. I won’t leave her. Not when I have nothing to say to you.”

“But I have plenty to say.” Simone sets a hand on her hip. “Talk to me, Cal.”

“Sorry, Simone. I think you should go. No one really wants you here. I don’t say that to intentionally hurt you, but to relieve you from an awkward situation.”

“So, what? You’re leaving me for her?” For the first time, Simone darts a two-second stab in Fran’s direction.

My brows knit and my heart pounds, but I keep my composure. She likes the upper hand, and I won’t give it to her by losing control. “You left me. Quite a while ago. Remember? ”

“I was thinking. I needed space. Haven’t you ever needed a little time, Callum?”

“Sure. And I appreciate the space you gave me. The time to think that you gifted me. It’s exactly what I needed.”

Fran’s hand tightens in mine.

Simone scoffs, her pretty features contorting with a more realistic version of the woman she is. “That’s it? That’s all you’re giving me?”

I shrug. “I don’t know what else to tell you. While you were thinking, I was figuring things out. I was realizing all the ways I hurt my loved ones and myself while we were together. While you were thinking, I was falling for Fran. I don’t have anything else to say to you.”

Fran stiffens beside me as I replay the words that fell so naturally from my mouth. I spoke, and the truth came out.

Simone sizes Fran up, but I don’t think she scares her. Fran has nothing to be afraid of. “I won’t be back, Callum,” Simone says. “If I walk away now, it’s forever.”

I keep my tone cool and soft, my hand in Fran’s. I’m not attempting to be harsh or unkind to Simone. I just need to be honest.

“I’m counting on it,” I tell her.