“I do?” I crinkle my nose.
“Something is up with you. Now spill.” Cam leans forward, placing her elbows on the table.
“Do you think Callum is using me?” I blurt.
Stupid question considering they don’t know the truth about what’s going on with us. But still, they don’t have to know everything to help me sort through what I learned today.
“Come again?” Cam seems surprised by the question.
“It’s just... Well, Ethan said he was talking to Tripp Friday at the party and Tripp told him and a couple other guys that Callum is only with me to score my V card.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Camila’s voice carries further than I think she meant for it to. She quickly looks around, offering a small smile of apology to the couple at the table next to us.
“Is that a shut the fuck up, there’s no way that’s true? Or shut the fuck up, I’m gonna cut off his balls and deliver them in a Ziplock bag?”
“Undecided.” She grins wickedly. “I need more information first.”
I do a quick recap of my conversation with Ethan and everything that happened with Callum on Friday.
“On one hand I’m like there’s no way. On the other, I don’t know. Maybe it is true.”
“I don’t buy it,” April chimes in. “A guy does not look at a girl the way Callum looks at you if he’s just using you. If you ask me, either Tripp or Ethan is full of shit and Callum Hansen is crazy about you.”
“I hate to say it, but I agree,” Cam adds. “I get why you’re hesitant. The boy does come with a heavy reputation. But if you could see what we see, I think someone’s got it twisted. I’d ask him point blank. See what he has to say.”
“I guess.” I blow out a breath. “Ethan asked me to prom. Well, he said if Callum and I don’t work out that he’d love to take me.”
“Holy shit. She went from no man to two men.” The look on Camila’s face is one of both amusement and envy.
“Shut up.” I roll my eyes.
“And?” Cam looks at me expectantly.
“And what?”
“How did you feel?”
“What do you mean?”
“Come on, Poppy. The guy you’ve been obsessed with for the last two years said he wanted to take you to prom. A month ago you would have been freaking out.”
“A month ago there wasn’t Callum.”
“You really like him, don’t you?”
“I think I’m in love with him.”
I don’t mean to say it out loud, but the words come spilling out just the same.
“Hot damn.” Camila smacks the table, causing our plates to rattle. “I knew it was only a matter of time. You two together are fire.”
“I’m scared,” I admit. “There’s a lot you don’t know about Callum. A lot I can’t say right now. What if I’m reading this wrong? What if he doesn’t feel the same way?”
If there was ever a time to drop the lie and tell my friends what’s really going on, now is it. Yet, something stops me. No matter how hard I try to will the words out, they simply won’t come.
“It’s normal to be scared.” April reaches across the table and pats my hand. “You think I’m not terrified when it comes to Brock? Trust me, I am. But I’m trying to focus on the good. On how he makes me feel. And not on the what ifs.”
“Yeah.” I agree on a slow nod. “How are you two doing, by the way? I feel like I haven’t talked to you in ages.”
“We’re good. Really good.” If her words didn’t confirm this, the smile on her face sure as hell does.
“And what about you?” I turn toward Camila. “You and Tripp still trying the whole friend thing?”
“We’re not trying anything. We’re friends.” She shrugs casually. “He was there when Marshall asked me to prom and didn’t bat an eye. I think it’s safe to say that ship has sailed.”
“If you say so.” I give her a doubtful look.
The rest of dinner goes by with ease. We talk about prom. About graduation. About the things we’re most looking forward to regarding life after high school. By the time I arrive home just after eight in the evening, I feel lighter than I have all afternoon. Or at least I did, until I climb out of Cam’s car to see Callum sitting on his front steps, his cell phone pressed to his ear.
His head comes up, watching me as I cross my front yard, but whoever he’s talking to is clearly more important because other than a small wave, he doesn’t move from where he’s sitting.
I head inside, mentally drained from the day and in need of some serious bubble bath therapy. I drop my book bag next to the door and make my way upstairs, my prom dress in tow.
It felt weird dress shopping, not knowing who, if anyone, I’d actually be going with. The girls assume I’m going with Callum, which is understandable. But knowing that may not happen made the whole experience less enjoyable than it normally would have been.
And then there’s Ethan.
I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that he offered to take me to prom if things don’t work out with Callum. Prom. Which is only a week and a half away. Prom. Something he should have secured a date to already but for some reason hasn’t. It’s not like his options are limited. I’m sure there are tons of girls who would love to go with him. I know. I used to be one of them.
Hanging my dress on the back of my closet door, I’m just about to head into the bathroom when I have a change of heart and head back downstairs. Without really thinking, I make my way outside and cross my yard into Callum’s, finding him still sitting in the same spot.
I stop a couple of feet in front of him and cross my arms in front of myself.
“Hey, I gotta go,” he murmurs into the phone before ending the call and dropping the device on the porch next to him. “Hey.” He starts to stand but I lift my hand, indicating for him to stay put.
If he gets too close, I won’t be able to think. And I certainly won’t be able to say what I came here to say.
Pulling a deep breath in through my nose, I slowly let it out through my mouth, my eyes trained on Callum’s which are slightly squinted in confusion.
“Did you tell Tripp you were only with me to land my V card?” I ask, not missing the way his face pales slightly.
“What? Where did you hear that?”
“Answer the question, Callum. Did you say that or didn’t you?”
“I mean, yeah, I did, but it’s not what you’re thinking.”
“Not what I’m thinking?” I let out a bitter laugh. “Which part? The part about you only being with me to fuck me or the part where I’m now the laughing stock of your friends?”
“Okay, hold up.” He shakes his head. “One, I only told Tripp that so he wouldn’t ask too many questions when this ended.” He gestures between us. “As for being the laughing stock, no one is laughing at you.”
“You sure? Because from what I hear, a few of your buddies sure found it humorous.”
“Who? And who told you this?”
“Does it even matter?”
“P.” Callum slowly pushes to a stand, hovering over me from the top step.
“You know the thing that really bothers me?” I fight to keep my voice calm. “That I can’t figure out if you started all this to actually help me or if you’ve had a hidden agenda all along.”
He draws back like I’ve physically struck him, the hurt on his face plain as day.
“Do you actually think I would do that?” He climbs down one step and then another, slowly coming toward me. “Do you actually think that I would use you? That I would hurt you in that way?”
“Honestly, I don’t know.” I refuse to candy coat this for him. He needs to know how I feel.
“Poppy.” He reaches for me, taking my hand as he steps directly in front of me. “I swear to you, I wouldn’t do that to you. If I ever slept with you, it wouldn’t be a game. It would be real, and it would mean something.”
The way he says it, his voice low, his eyes dark, makes my entir
e body come to life.
“You promise?” I feel stupid for asking, childish even.
“I promise.” He wraps his free arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his chest.
“Hey, Callum.” We break apart at the sound of the front door opening, his mom appearing in the doorway of their house.
“Yeah.” He clears his throat, turning to his mom, only now she’s looking past him. Now, she’s looking at me.
“Well I’ll be. Hi, Poppy.” She smiles at me like I’m still the same little girl she used to drive around all the time and feed peanut butter and banana sandwiches to.
“Hi, Diane.” I wave, offering her a warm smile.
“Poppy and I were just finishing a conversation,” Callum tells her. “I’ll be in in a minute.”
His mom takes the hint, nodding. “Okay. It was good seeing you, Poppy.” She gives me a little wave.
“You too.” I wait until she disappears inside before turning my gaze back to Callum.
“Sorry about that.” He slides a hand across the side of my neck. “My mom has always loved you.”
“Well, the feeling’s mutual.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve gotta get inside.” He hitches his thumb behind him toward the house. “Are we good?”
Are we?
We’ve barely had a chance to talk. Let alone had time for me to tell him what Ethan said about prom. Though I think that might be something I’ll keep to myself for now. I don’t want to say it and have him think it means I want to go with Ethan because I don’t. I want to go with him. I just haven’t worked up enough courage to tell him this.
He steps in closer, dropping his face down level with mine.
“Look at me.” He waits until my eyes meet his. “Are we good?” he asks again.
“Yeah.” I blow out a breath. “We’re good.”
The smile that breaks out across his face disappears from view as he leans in and lays a light kiss to my lips.
When he pulls back, tipping my chin up in the sweetest way, I’ve almost completely forgotten why I came over here to begin with. Callum has a way of blocking out everything and everyone but himself.
“Ride to school with me tomorrow?” The look on his face is so damn cute I can’t contain the giggle that passes my lips.
“I guess.” I sigh dramatically. “So needy.”
“Oh P.” He tisks at me as he backs away. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
With that, he spins around, disappearing inside the house before I’ve even blinked, let alone thought about moving.
What the...
I suddenly feel hot. Way too damn hot. And the smile that’s taken over my entire face as I make my way back to my house? Well, let’s just say that bad boy isn’t going away anytime soon.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
POPPY
“IT’S FRIDAY NIGHT. Come out with us,” Camila whines into the phone pressed to my ear.
“I can’t. Me and my mom are going to have a movie night,” I remind her for the tenth time since this morning when she first asked me to go out with them.
It’s a rare occasion when Stella Harris suggests we spend time together. I may not always like my mom, but she’s still my mom and I love her.
“Fine. You’re no fun.”
“Yeah. Yeah. You’ll have a blast without me.” I chuckle.
“Whatever. Call me if something changes.”
“Will do.” I pull the bag of popcorn from the microwave, dropping it onto the counter.
“Talk later.”
“K.”
With that, the phone line goes dead. Dropping my phone next to the popcorn, I turn, pulling a bowl out from underneath the island right as my mom walks into the room.
I take one look at her in her slinky dress and painted lips, and I already know what she’s going to say before a single word leaves her lips.
“Hey, sweetie.” Her voice is sickly sweet. “I’m gonna need to take a raincheck.”
“Of course you are.” I sigh audibly.
“Darren invited me out to see his brother play tonight. It was a last-minute thing.”
“Typical.” I don’t try to mask the anger in my voice. “A man calls and you go running.”
“That’s not fair. I really like him.”
“And what, you haven’t liked the other twenty that came before him?”
“Do not take that tone with me, young lady?” She purses her lips.
“Forgive me. I guess I should have known better than to be excited about spending some time with my mom.” I emphasize the word. “You know what, just go.” I turn back to the counter, snatching up the popcorn before tossing it into the trashcan.
“Poppy,” she calls after me as I storm out of the kitchen but I’m not hearing it. It doesn’t matter what she says, or what I say, we both know she’s still going.
I drop down onto the couch with a loud huff, tears stinging the backs of my eyes. What I wouldn’t give to have a mother that actually cares more about her child than going out to some random bar with some loser she picked up at another bar in town.
I keep my gaze trained on the television when she enters the room.
“I’ll be home late.” Her voice is hesitant.
“Don’t wait up.” I grab the remote, changing the channel. “Yep, I got it, Stella. Anything else?”
“You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to be a little more respectful.”
My gaze slides to her, anger in my look.
“I give respect to those who deserve it,” I grind out. “Now you better go. Don’t want to keep Darren waiting.”
“I swear, Poppy. Sometimes you’re such a child.” She huffs.
“Yeah, that’s rich coming from you,” I mutter under my breath.
She hesitates in the doorway for several long moments before I hear her heels click against the floor as she makes her way toward the front door.
I hold my breath, not letting it out until I hear the familiar sound of the lock clicking letting me know she’s gone.
I try to keep the anger in. I try to shove it down the way I always do. But this time I can’t. I push to my feet, grabbing a book from the coffee table before slinging it across the room. It hits the wall with a loud thud and bounces to the floor.
“Mother fucker!” I scream, grabbing the next closest object which happens to be a glass vase on the end table. Without a thought I fling it, watching it shatter into a hundred little pieces that rain to the hardwood below.
Next is the lamp. I rip the cord from the wall, prepared to wing it across the room when a knock at the door halts my movements.
I freeze when I hear Callum’s voice come through the door. “P. You okay?”
Am I okay?
I’m not so sure that I am.
It’s like eighteen years of neglect and disappointment is finally boiling over, and I feel seconds away from tearing this house to the fucking ground.
“P.” He knocks again. “P, let me in. I know you’re in there. I could hear you screaming.”
Shit.
Setting the lamp back down, I do my best to compose myself as I make my way to the front door. Ripping it open, the instant my eyes land on Callum, I completely fall apart.
“Hey.” He pulls me to his chest as the first of my tears break free.
“I hate her,” I scream into the fabric of his t-shirt. “I fucking hate her.”
“It’s okay.” His voice is calm, soothing, as he gently strokes my hair. “I got you.”
He gives me a few moments to pull myself together before letting me go. His hands find my shoulders, as if he’s offering me an anchor, a way to keep me on the ground.
“What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I shake my head, something coming over me. “In fact, I don’t want to talk at all.” I press up on my tiptoes, my lips sliding against his. “Make me forget,” I whisper against his mouth, feeling his body go ramrod straight against me.
“Poppy.”
/> “Don’t. Don’t say a word.” I stop him. “Take me upstairs.” I wrap my hands around the back of his neck and look up at him pleadingly.
I can see his restraint wavering. The decision between doing what he thinks is best and what he wants standing on opposite ends of the field. When I reach between us, cupping him in my hands, I can see his indecision start to diminish.
“Take me upstairs,” I repeat, moving my hand slowly across the front of his jeans, feeling him harden beneath my touch.
“Are you sure?” He blows out a heavy breath through his nose.
“Yes.” I nod. “I wanna know what it’s like. I wanna feel what it’s like. I’m done living my life in her shadow. I’m done basing my decisions on the ones she made for herself. Now, take me upstairs.”
One minute my feet are on the ground, the next I’m in the air, my legs going around Callum’s waist as he carries me up the stairs, taking each step two at a time as if I weigh nothing at all.
There is no discussion. No time to change my mind. At this point, all bets are off. And that is made even clearer when Callum turns, pinning me to the door as he devours my mouth, my neck, nipping at the skin across my collarbone.
Something in me snaps. Something wild and untamed. Something that I’ve kept hidden for a very long time.
I may not have done this before, but I know enough. Instinct kicks in and I grind down on his erection, the feel of him against my core driving me insane. I want him. I want him so bad I can hardly contain myself. And right here, in this moment, I don’t have any reservations about taking what I want.
“Are you sure about this, P?” Callum pulls back, watching me remove my shirt before tossing it over his shoulder to the floor.
“Shut up and kiss me.” I grab his face in my hands and pull him back to me, moaning against his lips when his hand slips under my bra, twisting one of my nipples.
I’ve never felt anything like it. It’s like I can feel his touch from the point of contact, all the way down to my freaking toes. And it feels even more incredible than I imagined it would.
Everything happens in a scurry. My bra. His shirt. My pants. His pants. My panties. His boxers. Clothing flies around the room like there’s a tornado swirling around us, and right now, I feel like there is.
All the Pretty Lies Page 19
