The Seasons of Callan Reed: An Enemies-to-Lovers Office Romance Read online

  After walking through the mall together, Rosalind and I stop at our favorite pizza spot for a bite to eat. We get our usual, half combination and the other half pineapple and cheese, because yes, pineapple does belong on pizza, and I refuse to let anyone tell me otherwise.

  She wrinkles her nose at the cheesy deliciousness on my plate. “You know, it’s absolutely criminal that you think eating that is okay.”

  I shrug, popping a pineapple into my mouth. “You still love me.”

  She sighs, like loving a friend with an adoration for pineapple on pizza is such a hardship.

  “Anyway, back to what I was saying in my bedroom before I was rudely interrupted by your fantasies featuring my brother.” I’m just about to refute that statement when she raises her hand, silencing me. “Let me finish this time, please. I don’t need to hear any bogus excuses from you today.”

  I can’t help but pout as I continue chewing. Guilt slowly creeps in as I realize what a lousy friend I am for tuning her out the way I did earlier. I hastily swallow the food in my mouth and force the words out before she cuts me off again.

  “I really am sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have zoned out, and I feel horrible.”

  She smiles. “Apology accepted. Now please, zip it, because I have an idea.”

  “Oh, no.” I pause with the slice halfway to my mouth.

  “Ryan finally asked me out.” My eyes widen, and I squeal, prompting everyone in the vicinity to glance at our table. I wince, apologizing under my breath.

  “Annnnd,” she draws out. “I was thinking we should double date.”

  “I’m sorry, what? Who am I supposed to double date with exactly, the freaking air?”

  “If you’d let me finish, you’d know his best friend, Dean, is interested.”

  “In me?”

  She scowls. “Who else? Of course, you!”

  “Aren’t they seniors? I can’t see Callan letting that slide.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Screw my brother. He’s not the boss of me. So, are you in?”

  I chew on it, mulling the decision over in my mind. Dean is hot. I mean, he doesn’t have anything on Callan, but—stop it.

  Stop thinking about him.

  Going on a date with Dean wouldn’t be so bad. He’s popular, athletic, and continuously has girls trailing him. I don’t know why he’d go for a girl like me. I also know Dean and Callan hate each other. Not that he would care, but if I was going to date anyone, I guess it would be smart to date Dean.

  I hesitate for only a few seconds longer.

  “I’m in.”

  Rose smiles brightly. “Good. He’s having a party at his house tomorrow night, and we’re going.”

  For the first time in a long time, a thrill shoots down my spine at the prospect of being near someone who isn’t Callan.

  Past

  I fiddle with the hem of the dress that Rose let me borrow. It’s a red, strapless, formfitting number that comes to mid-thigh. Rose suggested I wear this one because she said red was my color. Apparently, it brings out the dark chocolate strands in my hair. She also said it makes my legs look like they go on for miles, which is likely only because this dress feels like it was made for a Barbie doll and not an actual human. I tug the hem down again, trying to pull it over my thighs, but with each step I take, it rides up higher. I opted for my Converse instead of heels—it felt like overkill. I mean, the dress is short enough as it is, and heels would definitely make me look like a hooker. Rosalind opted for a similar dress, but hers is a black halter number that shows off her ample cleavage. Despite her incredibly good looks, Rose thinks her best assets are her breasts. As a freshman with D cups, she doesn’t have a shortage of guys knocking on her door, begging for her attention.

  “Would you knock it off!” she hisses as we walk up the driveway.

  “I can’t! My butt cheeks are literally hanging out of this dress.”

  She glances at my backside, then rolls her eyes. “They’re not. Stop being self-conscious. You look hot.”

  I silently curse her in my head. She’s the only person who can get me to wear something this scandalous to a party. I stick to her side the closer we get to the front entrance. As far as high school parties go, they’re not really my scene. Large crowds don’t do it for me, and I’m not exactly the most sociable person around. I take in the multitude of people surrounding us the second we step over the threshold. It’s absolute madness. The air is thick, with body heat and the smell of alcohol and smoke. It’s so stuffy, my throat clogs with each breath I take, making it hard to breathe.

  Is this what appeals to high schoolers? Hot air that smells like ass and armpits, and horribly loud music?

  I’ll never understand it.

  Somehow, through the crowd, Rosalind spots Dean and Ryan. Taking my arm in hers, she pulls me after her, guiding me through the crowd of gyrating bodies. Over her shoulder, I lock eyes with Dean. His expression is unreadable as he watches me approach. His gaze roams up and down my body, assessing me. The corner of his mouth quirks while his eyes linger on my shoe choice. When he drags his gaze back up to mine, his face breaks out into a smile, and I’m surprised when my heartbeat speeds up. My palms suddenly grow sweaty, and those pesky butterflies that I usually only feel around Callan take flight in my belly.

  Rose pauses in front of Dean and Ryan, and she throws her arms around Ryan for a hug that has surpassed the phase of “just friends.” What the hell does she need me here for again?

  “Nice outfit,” Dean remarks. “I’m particularly fond of your shoe choice.”

  My lips quirk. “Thank you. I wouldn’t be able to walk in heels even if I tried.”

  Dean chuckles and nods toward the assortment of alcohol displayed before us. “Do you want anything?”

  I shake my head. “No, thanks.”

  “Here,” he says, handing me an unopened can of beer, ignoring me.

  Strike one, I think to myself.

  As if to prove those thoughts wrong, he leans in, whispering near my ear, “You don’t have to open it. Just holding it in your hand is enough. You won’t have to deal with anyone else asking the same question over and over.”

  I glance up at him, and my breath gets lodged in my throat when I realize how close we are. He’s handsome. With a strong jaw, short blond hair, and hazel eyes, Dean is every girl’s dream. He smells good, too, like spices and something that is all male. When he glances down at my lips, my heart starts to pound.

  Will he try to kiss me tonight?

  He’s Dean Fletcher. I know for a fact that he has girls throwing themselves at him daily. So why is he suddenly interested in me?

  As if sensing my nervousness, Dean smirks and pulls away. “Want me to show you around?”

  I glance at Rosalind, and she shrugs noncommittally. All the while, her eyes are urging me on. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

  I guess I can’t really be upset with her. She didn’t ditch me, but she also didn’t offer to come with, so there’s no telling how this will go. After taking my hand in his, Dean leads me around his place, careful to keep me close to his side. You can’t even walk in this place without crashing shoulders with someone else.

  “Where are your parents?” I ask. Well, more accurately, I yell over the music.

  Dean expertly navigates his way through the throngs of students from school, most of them upperclassmen. “My dad works a lot, and my mom follows wherever he goes.”

  “So, I take it he’s away on business?”

  “Yup. It’s every weekend, it seems like.”

  “Sounds lonely.”

  He scoffs. “Do I look like I’m lonely?”

  My brows dip into a frown, not liking his tone. It’s strange, I can’t stop comparing him to Callan. From the way he acts and the way he talks to his personality. I need to push Callan away and give this guy an actual chance instead of being a jerk, putting him into this box labeled as never gonna happen.

  “Can I be honest with you?” h
e says once we walk out into his backyard. His pool is enormous, filled to the brim with people. Others are lounging around a patio table, but most of the people are inside still partying. “It does get lonely sometimes. The parties help, though.”

  I pause, turning to look at him. “I’m sorry you’re lonely, Dean.”

  He smiles down at me softly. “I’m not lonely now, so I guess I have you to thank for that, don’t I?”

  I can’t help but smile. “I guess so. I’m surprised you even know who I am,” I admit. We both perch on a loveseat that swings. He sets the motion, keeping the sway of the bench to a smooth glide.

  “Of course, I know who you are. I’ve been trying to get your attention for a while.”

  My eyes narrow, and I scoff. “You’re trolling me.”

  He laughs, lightly nudging me. “I’m not. I think you’re gorgeous. You just seem…reserved. I wasn’t sure you’d be interested if I asked. I guess it helps that Ryan and your best friend are dating now. I felt like it was time to shoot my shot.”

  I’m shocked by the admission. I never would’ve guessed he felt this way. I find myself scooting closer to him, or maybe he scoots closer to me, I can’t tell. Whatever is happening, I welcome it.

  “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

  My lips part in shock, and my nerves get the best of me. I can’t help but feel like things are moving swiftly with Dean. I mean, we’ve only just met, and he already wants to kiss me? He probably expects that from every date. Girls would kill themselves to be in my shoes right now. It’s on the tip of my tongue to say no, but for some insane reason, I nod my head instead.

  I’ve only ever kissed one other boy, and I’m hoping, maybe, just maybe, this will be the kiss that helps me forget him.

  Dean grins, sliding his hand around my waist to pull me close. Then his lips are on mine, parting them gently. It’s soft and gentle, and under normal circumstances, this would be the best kiss of my life. He’s obviously skilled, but the issue is, Callan has ruined kisses for me altogether. Though Dean’s kiss makes me feel warm inside, there’s no spark. Not like there was with Callan. No electricity thrums through my veins. No swarms of butterflies.

  I try to push thoughts of Cal away and enjoy the kiss, but it’s difficult. He’s always right there in the back of my mind, demanding my attention. Dean pulls away from me slowly, his chest heaving as warm gusts of his breath blow across my lips.

  “Wow,” he breathes out, making me smile, despite my inner turmoil. Even if this kiss wasn’t the best I’ve ever had, it still felt good, and it’s with Dean freaking Fletcher, of all people. That’s gotta count for something. I glance toward the pool, feeling someone’s gaze on me, and when I lock eyes with familiar, bored gray-blues, I swallow thickly. Callan stands there, his gaze darting back and forth between Dean and me. His mouth is set in a hard line, and for the first time in forever, he shows an emotion other than boredom. He looks angry right now, blistering full of rage as he stares at us. Dean follows the trajectory of my gaze, and he stiffens beside me.

  “Can’t stand that guy,” he grits. Regretfully, I drag my gaze away from Cal and back to Dean.

  “Why?”

  He sighs. “It’s a long story. Want to head back in? The tour isn’t over.”

  “Let’s do it.” He takes my hand in his, and the entire way back inside, a gaze burns at the back of my neck, searing into my skin, practically incinerating me. A thrill courses down my spine at the prospect of making Callan angry. I didn’t even get a thrill of this magnitude from kissing Dean, but if this is how it feels, I’ll take it.

  I spend the rest of the night with my time split between Dean and Rosalind and her date. Once Rosalind and Ryan head off somewhere to dance, Dean offers to show me his bedroom. I can’t help but side-eye at the suggestion, and he laughs, raising his hands in surrender, feigning innocence.

  “It’s only a tour. You can leave or cry for help whenever you need to.”

  His bedroom is much like I’d expect it to be for a high school boy. I’ve only ever seen one boy’s room in my life, and it’s been quite some time since I was last welcome in there. Dean’s room is clean with a queen-sized bed, a black headboard, and matching black furniture. He has photographs on his dresser, a few posters pasted to the walls, and some sports memorabilia.

  “It’s a lot cleaner than I anticipated.”

  He laughs, nodding toward the bed. “That might be because I don’t spend much time here. I’m either at school, practice, hanging with the guys, or out of town.”

  “Wow. It sounds like you’re always on the go.”

  We both settle on the bed. An awkward silence descends, and it seems to thicken the air in his room with tension. I’m just about to break it with an off-the-wall question, but I snap my mouth shut at the sound of banging on the other side of the door. Dean’s brows pull down, and he glances down at me questioningly as he pushes to his feet.

  I’m not even surprised by who’s on the other side when Dean opens his door. Wearing a furious expression is Callan, and all his aggravation is directed at me.

  “Get the fuck up. We’re leaving,” he spits out in his anger, his stormy eyes drilling holes into me. It’s then I notice he’s gripping Rosalind by the arm, and she looks embarrassed. My lips curl over my teeth, and a sudden burst of fury roars through my veins. He doesn’t talk to me for years, treats me like a nuisance, and then he wants to speak with me by ordering me around?

  I don’t think so.

  “No.” I shoot up from the bed. My voice is steel, surprising everyone. Rose’s eyes widen, and I swear, I see a glint of pride there. If possible, Cal grows even angrier at my refusal.

  “Don’t fuck with me, Daisy. Get up.”

  Dean steps in front of me, shielding me from Callan’s view. “You heard her. She’s not leaving.”

  “Don’t test me, Fletcher. This is a family matter.”

  My lips twist into a cruel smirk that is so unlike me, it momentarily takes him off guard. “That’s where you’re mistaken, Callan. We’re not family. I’m not your responsibility anymore.”

  With a frustrated growl, Cal slams his fist against the wall, rocking the foundation, before taking off, yelling after Rosalind. She mouths, “I’m sorry,” to me before disappearing out of sight.

  Once the sound of their footsteps fades, I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I turn to Dean, who still looks pissed off by the intrusion.

  “I’m so sorry, Dean.”

  “Don’t apologize. The dude is a fucking psycho. You okay?”

  I nod, inching away from the bed. “I should probably get going, anyway. It’s getting late. I just wanted the satisfaction of telling him no.”

  A slow grin spreads across Dean’s face. “I like you, Daisy.”

  My smile is automatic. “Me, too.”

  After exchanging numbers with Dean, I head home. The walk isn’t all that far, just a few blocks. Though it is a little creepy to do it on my own so late at night. My mom would shit herself if she knew what I was doing. I blow out a sigh of relief when my house comes into view.

  My heart drops when a shadow suddenly shoots out from nowhere, and a hand clamps over my mouth just as I’m about to scream. I’m spun around, then roughly slammed up against the side of my house. I expect to feel pain or a groping of some sort, but it never comes. When the shadow moves forward, and the streetlight illuminates his features, I gasp. My heart lodges in my throat, and I smack him away from me.

  “What the hell is the matter with you? You scared me half to death!”

  “What the fuck are you thinking, Daisy?” Callan grits, getting in my face again. “You’re better than this.”

  A strike of lightning gets trapped in my chest—frissons of electricity, of rage, fire through my veins.

  “Who do you think you are? You’ve been nothing but an asshole to me for the past two years. What makes you think you have any say about anything in my life?”

  Something dangerous fla
shes in his gaze, and his lips thin. “Stay away from him.”

  I scoff, shoving him away from me again for good measure. “You have some fucking nerve, Reed. Why don’t you do us both a favor and stay the hell away from me?”

  His face contorts in a grimace. “You can do so much better than Dean Fletcher, Dais. Quit begging for attention.”

  I jerk back at his hateful words. “You really think this is about you? Screw you! I couldn’t care less. Go fuck Skylar for all I care. I’ll screw Dean in peace, and we’ll all be happy. Don’t worry about me because I’ve sure as shit stopped worrying about you, Cal.” With that, I shove away from him and stomp toward my house.

  “You’re making a mistake with him, and you know it.”

  His words stop me in my tracks. I shoot him a glare over my shoulder, summoning all of my resentment for what I’m going to say next.

  “The only mistake I’ve ever made is trusting you. My biggest regret is and will always be you, Callan Reed.”

  He must not be all ice and stone because I see the effect my words have on him. For a fraction of a second, he looks pained, as if my words truly hurt him.

  Good.

  It won’t even be half the pain I feel day in and day out when I think about him.

  Squaring my shoulders, I cross our lawns and head inside. I tell myself I’m done with Callan Reed. Maybe this time I’ll actually believe it.

  Present

  My eyes spring open at the shrill cry of a baby. It only takes a few seconds for my brain to play catch-up.

  Whose baby is that? I don’t have a baby.

  Shit!

  Yes, I do.

  I shoot off the bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I run into the guest room right next to mine. The infant inside the bassinet is kicking her little arms and legs, screaming like she hasn’t eaten for days—and believe me, I’d know—I just fed her no more than three hours ago.

  “Faithy, baby. I need sleep,” I whine as I lift her from the bassinet and cradle her in my arms, padding toward the changing table.