Page 37 of Shades of Grey & Gold

Another squeal.

“Bec, you’re being weird now.”

“Oh, I’m going to be so normal about this. Put me on speaker.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Put me on speaker so I can thank him for his service.”

“His service to what?”

“It’s seven in the morning and you’re together. So I guess his service to yearning. To his forearms. To being tall near you. To the way his ass looks in his jeans right now, probably.”

My face burns hot as I pull my gaze from Cal’s butt and focus on a mailbox shaped like a barn across the road.

Cal, unfortunately, has very good hearing and the volume on my phone is not low.

He coughs once, suspiciously close to a laugh.

“I hate you,” I tell her.

Cal gives me some space and walks Bart over to the grassy park corner.

“No, you don’t. You love me and you love him and someday when your children ask Auntie Becca how their parents finally stopped being idiots, I will say, ‘Well, my babies, your father brought your mother coffee and your mother pretended not to want to climb him like the big, beautiful tree he is.’”

I choke on air. “I’m hanging up.”

“Wait! Do not hang up. Are you blushing? I bet you’re blushing. Is he watching you blush? God, I hope he is. Men need enrichment.”

“Goodbye, Becca.”

“No, wait!” Her tone gets serious and loses the humor. “Max, this isgood. It’s good, right?”

I smile and look back at where Cal talks to my dog as Bart looks up at him with starry eyes.

“It’s…good.”

“You spun around each other for years—it’s not some weird insta-love story. I can feel you hesitating. You fell for him years ago. Now you’re just sliding down that path a lot faster because it’s a path you already know.”

And she’s right. I don’t need to hesitate because it’sCal.

“When did you get so insightful?”

“Oh, I’ve always been insightful. I’d love to have insights on what’s under those jeans when you get the chance—”

“Bye, Becca,” I roll my eyes.

“Use protection!”

I smash the end button so hard my thumb hurts.

For a second, there is only the sound of Bart’s nails clicking back toward me on the sidewalk and Cal making a heroic attempt not to laugh.

I stand up straight. “Not a word from you.”

“I wasn’t going to say a thing.”

“Your face is saying all the things, Callan.”