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January completely passes me by in a blink with only three days of freezing rain during the whole month, so I’m calling it a win.
I study with Callum at least once a week, sometimes twice a week, especially during our days off on Mondays and Tuesdays. Luna always joins, of course, where we meet up at the pseudo-conference room in Callum’s apartment building where we spend five to six hours at a time doing our week course load together.
We usually bring snacks inside, bottles of water, some coffee, but not ‘real’ food. So I expect to be hungry, but not for my stomach to be howling like it is to the point that it becomes embarrassing.
“Sorry,” I mumble when Callum looks at me, eyebrows raised in question. I pat my stomach, and Luna trots over to me, tilting her head from side to side, the perfect picture of puppy confusion.
“I’m hungry,” I say, then hunch forward in my seat to try and attack this organizational behavior essay that just sounds like a lot of bullshit to me. But no, I have to use the theories and apply them, so that’s what I’m gonna do, no matter how much this essay’s gonna stink.
“Why didn’t you say anything? I can make us something back in my apartment, if you want. Or we can order here,” he says, but a knock on the door interrupts him from pulling out his phone to use an app. Callum looks up, walking over to the door and opening it slightly, blocking it with his body, as if making sure my privacy is ensured from a stranger.
There’s a murmuring of a conversation, and then Callum looks over to me, his face a picture of disappointment.
“Yeah? What is it, what’s wrong?” I ask, dropping my pen, and scrape my chair back, startling Luna. “Callum?”
“Uh, we kind of have to leave. We overstayed our welcome.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll get going then, no problem,” I say, whirling back to the table and picking up my things, stacking up my notes and papers, stuffing my pencil and pen in my cute pencil case. I glance back when Callum remains quiet. “What?”
“Uh, you can come to my apartment, if you feel comfortable. Come inside and have something to eat first. If you want.”
I lick my lips and clear my throat. “Sure, sure. I would like that. My treat,” I say, turning around to stuff all my shit into my school bag.
“No, it’ll be my treat. And we really should stop saying that word, look at Luna.”
Luna is begging with her entire body, tail wagging a mile a minute, and her whimpering sounds like she’s going to die if she doesn’t get the treat right now. Her cast thumps as she walks over, but I know she’s got one more week until it fully comes off.
“Yeah? Are you sure? You’re the one that looks uncomfortable.”
And he does. Callum runs a hand over his shorn hair, looking down at his feet, then stoops down to pick up Luna, holding her like a football. “I’m trying to remember if I left some dirty laundry on the floor or something.” He grins sheepishly at me, and my heart drums in my chest even harder. “Don’t judge me too harshly, is all I’m asking.”
“Callum, I leave dirty underwear on the floor on a daily basis, don’t worry about it. Come on, grab your stuff, I’ll hold Luna,” I offer, holding my hands out, wiggling my fingers for the transfer of precious cargo.
He smirks, laughs a little, and hands her to me so that I get attacked with puppy affection in terms of licks and snuggles. It makes me laugh, the way she licks at my throat and jaw, and I have to fight with a her a little bit to lay kisses on the top of her head.
I follow Callum out of the conference room and to the elevators, watching the red numbers descend until we get off at the fourth floor. We wind around the hallway, and Callum opens the front door of his apartment to me, letting me go in first. I toe off my shoes, and then walk through to the living room, setting Luna down carefully, but she sticks close to my ankles and whines at me like she still wants to be picked up.
I glance around. It looks like a normal apartment. There’s a beat-up leather couch that’s sagging more than holding itself up, but that just means it’s gotta be extra comfortable. Luna’s bright pink bed is on the floor, and she hobbles over and plops herself on it, tail wagging faster than my eye can track. She licks at her mouth, snuffling every once in a while and then sneezing several times in a row.
“Uh, we can sit here, at the table. What do you want to eat? Pizza?”
Callum rounds me, making sure we keep our distance, and I appreciate that, I appreciate that a lot. How many times have guys encroached into my personal space without asking, just barging in and demanding my attention when it should be my decision whether to give it or not?
Honestly, it doesn’t matter if it’s in my job description or not. And the way Callum always makes sure that there’s a safe distance between the two of us, as if he’s particularly wary of me being in his personal space, too, without permission. The guy’s a bouncer; he probably has assholes getting in his face all of the time, I can understand wanting some personal space.
Of course, that rule does not apply when it comes to Luna, who is now hobbling over the length of the living room and coming toward the two of us, nails clacking against the flooring.
“Sure, pizza sounds great. Are you a pineapple guy or not?” I ask, fishing for more information. I always learn something new when we study together. Callum has been more open with me, for sure, but it takes a while to get him warmed up to a conversation, still, even after we’ve spent so many weeks together.
“Pineapple guy?” he asks, glancing down at his phone, and perusing the options. “Like Hawaiian pizza? I love it almost as much as I love Luna, and that’s saying something. Why? Do you not like it?” he asks, tilting his head at me in the precise way that Luna sort of does.
I don’t really know who is imitating who here, but the both of them are so, so cute.
I don’t know what I’m doing here, honestly.
“I like it. It’s pizza. I don’t really care what’s on it, you know?” I say, dropping my bag onto one of the chairs at the kitchen table and then taking a seat in a free one, lifting Luna into my lap. I get licked all over my throat and underneath my chin until I have to blow in her face just a little to get a rest from all the puppy kisses.
“I’ve got cash,” I say, not wanting to seem like a freeloader. Whatever this is between us, I’m not a mooch, even if my sister thinks I’m the biggest one.
Callum nods, taps his phone, and then turns to me with a bright smile. “Yeah, it should be here within a half hour. Do you want something to drink? I’ve got beer, water, juice, milk?”
I snort. “Milk? What do you think I am, back in high school?”
Callum shakes his head and shrugs a few times. “Milk and cookies are a great breakfast. Nobody’s going to tell me different.”
I blink at him. “You have milk and cookies for breakfast? Genius. How come I never thought of that?” I snort again. “Never would have thought that you would have it for breakfast, though. You look like you chow down on protein powder on a regular basis.”
Callum shakes his head, taking a seat across the table, hands running along the surface of the table. “I work out a lot. I have to. I do a lot of yoga, too.”
“Yeah?” I tilt my head at him, leaning my head against my hand, staring at him. He’s pretty fascinating. Every single detail I’ve learned about his life is a precious nugget of treasure, and I want to find the place where X marks the spot. “I tried that once. Nearly died.”
Callum explodes into surprised laughter, his eyes closing with his mirth. “Are you serious?”
I nod solemnly, basking in the glow of being the one to make him laugh like that. It feels like winning a gold Olympic medal, I’m sure of it, being on the top of the podium and hearing the Canadian anthem blared over the speakers.
“Yeah. I pulled muscles I didn’t even know I had.” I pet down Luna’s fluffy back and get another lick for my trouble. “Can I get water, please?” Callum nods, getting up from the table to nab us both a couple of glasses of water, bringing them over and resuming his seat. There’s nothing to do now but wait for the pizza to arrive, and I’m already starting to itch at the prospect of sitting here with having nothing to say.
“You seem nervous. Am I the one that’s making you nervous?”
I shake my head, laughing a little, the feeling and words pressing up against the bottom of my throat, demanding to be said. “You make me nervous because you’re you, not because I’m uncomfortable. I’ve never felt this comfortable with a guy before, to be honest. See? See how you just leaned back, making sure you’re keeping that space between us?” My heart’s a rapid drumbeat in my chest, and my mouth is dry.
It's been weeks that we’ve been working together, that we’ve been studying together, and I’m convinced that whatever this is between us, I’m willing to place a bet on it, money in hand.
“That’s important to me, and it means a lot, you doing that. I work at a bar, Callum, I see how shitty men treat women on a daily basis. I see it all, okay? I’ve heard the badmouthing when I’m too slow in making their drink, or the way they give me a dollar as a tip throughout the whole night because they think my job is less important than theirs.”
“Izzy—” Callum tries to interrupt, but I shake my head, and he closes his mouth, waiting for me to continue.
I lick my lips, letting it all out once and for all. “I know what I look like, okay? I know that I’m inviting that kind of attention because it’s part of my job. I’m used to guys getting too close, touching me without my permission because I’m the gatekeeper to their alcohol addiction, all right?” I huff out a breath. “And you...you’ve never made me feel like I’m anything short of an actual person. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been treated that way?”
My eyes start to well with tears, and I don’t know where all of this is coming from.
We’re getting into the month of February, and I’m feeling sorry for myself, for the plans I have for a future that can’t exist if I keep going on this way.
Why not take a chance on Callum? Why not?
“But my older cousins, they’ve found love, probably found the last two men on the island who are kind and sweet, I swear. But then I look at you and see it differently. I hope you’re one of the good ones, Callum, because I’m invested in you now. I want to see where this goes. Are you willing to take that road with me?”
Callum leans all the way back in his chair, and the time ticks by, my heart beating so hard against my sternum that it feels bruised from the inside out.
“I...I don’t know if that’s a good idea for you, Izzy. I’m not...I’m not, shit. I think you’re beautiful and smart, and you don’t make me feel like shit because my brain doesn’t seem to work properly without some external help when it comes to learning things. I’m being pulled in so many different directions, and yet you’re here. You saved Luna’s life.”
I scoff, trying to wave it away, but Callum’s adamant, and I don’t think it’s fair to try and belittle his feelings when he so earnestly listened to me confessing mine to him. That wouldn’t be fair, not at all.
“You did. If you weren’t there, I don’t think I could have made it to the vet by myself. It’s a long walk, and she would have gotten colder, and I would be heartbroken. You gave me my dog back, the only other being on the planet that seems to think the world of me. I...I’ve been through a lot, Izzy, and you, you’re happy and you shine so brightly in a room full of people while I like to sit in the back, in the shadows where it feels like I belong. I just...I have a lot of issues,” he finishes lamely.
“Everyone has issues,” I say. “Not that I’m belittling yours, I’m just telling you that everybody has them in some form or another, and I think if you know about them, if you’re self-aware enough to want to make a change, then I think it’s all good. I know it’s all good. Look, I...I’m scared to live on my own. There, I said it.”
“What?” Callum threads his fingers together, tightening his grip around his own hands, keeping a tight hold on himself.
“I still live at home, with my parents, at my age. I’m ashamed of it, really, but I was too busy having a good time in my youth while all of my cousins wound up studying hard and reaping the benefits now while I was drinking away my college experience. I’m ashamed that I’m not where I want to be,” I say, letting him have this tiny piece of me when he’s already given me so much.
“I’m ashamed that I’m not the perfect daughter like my older sister is.” I shrug. “Everybody has something, and it would be a disservice to not let ourselves even try and see where this goes.”
Callum looks at me with longing, looks at me holding his best girl, Luna, and it looks like he’s lumping us together. He could care for me in the way that I want, in the way that I crave, he could, if he’ll allow himself.
He carefully reaches a hand across the table, palm facing upwards, waiting for me to make the final step, even though he took the hardest step by reaching out first. I place my palm in his, and then Luna gets in on the whole thing, walking onto the table to paw at our clasped hands.
“I think we got her blessing,” I laugh, watching Luna walk across the table to hop into Callum’s lap, and he holds her carefully and gently to the point that it melts my heart. He looks like a killer, like a man who can take care of himself at all times, but it’s probably only to save his gooey center from being punctured any more than it has already been.
“Yeah. Sorry I’m messed up,” he says, his eyes roving over my features.
I give him a small smile back. “Sorry I’m messed up, too. Let’s see if we can make each other less messed up, huh? Along with any other support systems that you need, which includes therapy and medication,” I say, as if by rote. “My sister is a big advocate for mental health support, and all that, and I basically just heard her speak through me. Wow, that was weird. But honestly, you don’t have like a gambling problem or anything right? You haven’t killed anyone?”
Callum laughs his head off and then brings my hand up to his mouth, kissing the back of it three times in a row that has my heart skipping in my chest. “No, no. No criminal record or those kinds of addictions. I’m not angry or anything like that; that’d be more than dangerous for my job and I’m not looking for a one-way ticket to jail. I channel my frustration at the gym and not on people, to the best of my ability.”
“Okay, that’s a good answer, a good answer.”
Callum grins at me, and it’s boyish and happy, and it’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen him.
The whole half hour waiting around for the pizza to show up has us holding hands, murmuring to each other about random stories of our childhoods, and I get the picture that Callum grew up in a home where he was emotionally and physically abused. It’s in the tells of what he says and also what he doesn’t say. I’ve heard people’s stories all the time during my shifts at the bar, especially those slow nights where people just take a seat and go over all their trials and tribulations, all their sorrows and woes.
People in general, yeah, we can be shitty, but we’re all sad about something, we all have regrets. Well, I guess maybe not if you’re a sociopath, but I’m not talking about them.
Callum’s a big guy, but that doesn’t mean he’s not hurting, just like everybody else.
We eat the pizza when it arrives, demolishing one of the extra-large ones, and Callum keeps grinning at me as I match him piece for piece until I just sit back in my chair, wondering how I’m going to move, or if I’m going to imitate a snake that’s eaten too much and can’t move for the next few hours.
“I’m never going to move again. You’re going to have to roll me out of here, Callum. I’m being serious. Don’t laugh at me, come on. Everything hurts. Why did I eat so much, why?”
“I can go and get you some ginger ale—”
I make a desperate noise in my throat and nod quickly, even though that hurts, too. I’m never eating that much again, never ever again. Never again! “Please, Callum? I’ll love you forever. I mean, maybe one day, but please, can you get me some ginger ale? I’ll...I can bake you a chocolate cake in trade.”
“Chocolate cake? Don’t you realize that we’re still not even? You don’t owe me anything. I’m just going to head downstairs and down the block to the dep. I’ll be back soon, okay?”
I nod slowly this time, and it doesn’t hurt so much. I feel like a beached whale.
Callum returns fifteen minutes later to a very excited Luna, and me waddling forward as if I’m carrying twins. Shit. Callum carefully pours me the chilled ginger ale into a glass and hands it to me, helping me walk over to the couch in his living room.
“Want to watch a movie? Or do you want to do some more work?”
I shake my head vehemently. “I’m three-quarters of the way done, anyway. I’ll figure out the rest tomorrow.”
“Same time, over here at my place?” Callum asks, scheduling a part of my day tomorrow. I nod and lean in close to peck his cheek. He looks adorably flushed but places his palm over my kiss, as if stamping it into his skin, a token he gets to carry with him for the rest of the day.
“Sure, Callum. I’d like that a lot. But first, we have to talk about your shit taste in movies,” I say, pointing to the bookcase of DVDs.
