Page 46 of A Loser by Christmas
I choke out, “There’s nothing to wonder.” At least there won’t be soon enough, even if that look of relief means maybe Calum just got a reprieve from leaving England early. I take another glance his way, and I know this kitchen is busy, full of chefs cooking for families stranded far from home.
I don’t see any of them.
I just see Calum still on his phone, listening to his agent, but I’ve got all his attention. At least, my hand does. It rubs at the centre of my chest. That’s where his gaze fixes in the same way I know my own has whenever he’s whispered affirmations to an unborn duckling.
Now he ends his call and crosses the kitchen, gaze rising from the spot where my hand struggles to hold my heart in. “Hey,” he says softly. “I have to head off. My agent has business stuff torun by me. A video call that can’t wait, but before I go, what did I miss?”
What did he miss?
Just me falling for a hockey player who keeps coming in clutch for other people.
Thank fuck Robin leaves us or he’d see me grasp the counter. I need something to steady me since Calum knocked my whole world off its axis and only took the first half of December to do it. Now all I want is for him to do that for even longer.
“Tell me,” he murmurs. There’s no need for him to muscle his way any closer to me. He already fills my whole field of vision, and I should zip my lips the same way he has so often, should keep my thoughts to myself, given that this is temporary. Finite. Not going anywhere once he leaves for Cornwall.
I can’t shut up.
“I like you so fucking much.”
The kitchen is noisy. I’m not sure if he heard me. Pots clang and blenders whir so loudly that I shouldn’t be able to hear his answer.
I do.
“Good,” Calum tells me.
Nothing drowns out how much he means this.
“The feeling’s mutual.”
14
The next morning,I also like how Calum isn’t done trying to win my contest for me.
He arrives much earlier than when torture sessions used to start his mornings. “Get your skates on, Juno. We’ve got a lot to pack into today.”
He’s here even ahead of him sending his usual text reminder to turn an egg over, but I’m up early as well, determined to help him score a goal of his own. My problem is that my latest footage is the opposite of helpful.
I can’t findanyloser material in any of this content.
Calum claps big hands together. “I said to get your skates on. We need to get moving.”
“Non.”
“No?” He crosses thick arms over his chest. “Why not?”
“Because you’ve got some explaining to do, Trelawney.”
For a split second, his game-face mask makes a reappearance. It slips off the minute I press Play on a brand-new split screen. Penny’s face fills one-half of my laptop screen. The second half is filled by one of London’s top chefs, and Calum’slaugh could give Dad a run for his booming money. “You really don’t miss a thing, do you?”
“Like you playing matchmaker?” I chuff as Calum sinks onto my bed to watch a romance in the making. “I chase the truth, remember? Plus, joining these dots was almost too easy.” I press a keyboard command, and my own voice fills the cabin.
“I only have eyes for Calum.”
In this replay of my first visit to London’s lowest rated restaurant, Penny animates to say, “Well, that’s understandable. But if you do have eyes for me, try to catch my good side.” She flutters her eyelashes. “Still living in hope of attracting a chef I can keep. Bonus points if he’s a silver fox who can cook decent pasta.”
My bunk shakes with silent laughter, which means Calum must have guessed what is coming. I set the other side of the screen into motion to prove it.
“My son keeps telling me to get back on the market.” A silver fox stares into the lens of my GoPro. “Get a good pic of my best side and I might have to add it to the dating profile he made for me.”
