Page 94 of Wayward
“Who said I forgave you?”
“You haven’t called me Jackass since Trisha and I got married. Only Jared.”
I stop and stare at the floor. Have I really forgiven him? I guess so. I don’t give a shit about Trisha anymore. But there’s not that rock of hate in my chest when I think about her now, either.
“Just go tell Mom I’m alive and I’ll call her tomorrow.”
“I will. I love you, Cal. You’re the best brother I could have ever had. And I will?—”
“I said I never want to talk about it again. Let’s move forward, Jackass.”
“I can do that.”
I end the call. And turn back to the window. Not that I mind the guys seeing me tear up. Or Haley, if she was done with the makeup girl. But I don’t want to talk about it now. Later, when we have more time. There’s a twist in my gut, because I actually think I will bring it up later.
“Anyone want the phone?” I ask.
Sam puts his hand on my shoulder. “Yeah, I think it’s a good idea. I’m going to call my sister and have her be with my mom.” Sam takes the phone from me and sits on the bed, staring at the phone. He’s wearing one of the polo shirts that was dropped off while I was talking to Jared.
“What’s up, Sam?” Dante asks.
“I can’t remember my sister’s number. I’ll call Charlie.” He stands and paces, walking into the giant closet next to the bathroom. “Charlie. Where are you? . . . Fair enough. I’m in London. We’re back. I?—”
The bathroom door opens. “Who’s next?” Rina shouts.
Sam pulls the closet door shut behind him.
“Look at you, Sassy. You look amazing.” Dante gives Haley a twirl. The makeup artist has Haley’s hair in a fluffy cut thathangs just below her ears. I don’t know what it’s called, but she looks hot as hell.
“Thank you.” Haley gives Dante a kiss on his cheek.
“I’ll go next, not that you can do much with perfection,” Dante says.
“There’s room for two more.” Rina waves at Zane and Easton. “You put your shirt on.” She points a finger at my chest and pulls the door shut.
“You look good, Chiefie.”
“Thank you.” She tilts her head, and her hair swings. “I’m nervous, though. Are you nervous?”
“I hadn’t given it a thought. Nervous about the cameras?”
“Yes, but no. All of this. Our families. Your families more than my dad. I’ve never been on TV. Once there was a clip of a yacht I was stewing on, and you could see me for half a second. My friend went nuts over it. But that’s about it.”
“Just be yourself.” I yank the shirt I have on over my head and pull on the new one. It’s tight—tourniquet tight—from my shoulders through my chest. “It doesn’t fit.”
“It looks okay.” Haley smooths her hands down over the fabric.
“It’s not okay. It’s a crop top at best. If I move, I’m going to bust out of this shirt like a rotting watermelon.” I try to peel it off, but it doesn’t budge.
Haley laughs. “Here, let me help you. Sit on the edge of the bed.”
I do. I hold my hands up in the air like one of my nieces. Haley tugs on the hem of the shirt, and it gets stuck on my pecs.
“Pull harder,” I say, and she does, but it doesn’t move. She straddles my legs and yanks, and when the fabric comes off the top of my head, she flies forward. I tumble backwards onto the bed, and Haley lands on top of me. My hands surround her waist on impulse, pulling her tight against my chest. Even with thetoo-tight shirt wrapped around my face, I can’t help but hold her against me.
“Calvin,” Haley says, with a chuckle. “We’ve got to get ready for the interview.”
The bathroom door opens, and Dante’s laughter fills the room. “We’ve got a few minutes. You look perfect, Sassy.” Dante jumps on the side of the bed.
