Callum & Harper

Page 10


“Never lived with a girl before?”

“Actually, no,” I said thoughtfully, just now realizing the truth of that.

“Alright, go.”

“Thank you, Callum.”

“Of course. Think nothing of it.”

“No, thank you.”

I nodded as she traipses off to the bathroom.

Once I heard the shower running, I sat on Charlie’s sofa and picked up the book he was reading before he left, face down to save his page. I started reading the first paragraph. The main character, Elliott, professed his life and his love for this girl named Jules. Pretty good, but not my flavor, if you catch my drift. I prefer non-fiction. When I heard Charlie’s blow dryer start, I smiled, thankful that the doofus had long enough hair that he could supply Harper with what she needed to tend to her own silky strands.

Twenty minutes later, the door opened. Still sitting, I glanced up, full intending to return to my page but was struck dumb. The book slid from my grip, spilling to the floor. I had to remind myself that she was standing there, expecting me to speak but was literally driven mute.

Harper stood under the door frame, her feet were clad in black combat boots but she pulled them off well with a horizontal stripe black and white floor length cotton dress that painted every curve of her body. Modest. Modest yet sexy as hell. Her lengthy locks flowed to her waist and curved at the ends.

But the show stopper were the eyes. Those incredible eyes I could spot from a mile away, sharp and almost a translucent gold.

“Good God, Harper. I can’t go out with you looking like that,” I blurted.

She set both hands on her hips, “And why the heck not?”

“Because I’ll be in jail before Cherry can even go on. I’ll have to fight off every bloke who tries to talk to you. No, you have to change. You’re going to get me in trouble,” I said, sincere as I’ve ever been.

It was true. I couldn’t step out of Charlie’s flat with her looking like that, not if I didn’t feel like leaving her side wearing a pair of handcuffs. Also, now, I’d never admit to this out loud, but I wanted to slide my hands down every curve she owned, every striped covered curve.

Harper laughed. “Oh, I get it. Ha, ha, Callum. You think you’re so funny. Now, you better tell me that I look nice or we’re going to have issues because this is all I have and it matters to me to look good, for you...I mean, I don’t want to embarrass you,” she covered up.

I wonder if handcuffs come in my size. Surely, they’re one size fits all. “Harper, you look incredible.”

A slow smile crept across her mouth and she nodded in acknowledgement. “Thank you. Now, you’re turn.”

The Bowery was the busiest I’d ever seen it. Chris was working the door and we were on the list so we were able to bypass the seemingly mile long line.

“Chris, what’s up, man?”

“Callum Tate! Long time no see. What’ve you been up to?”

“Oh, you know, a little of this, a little of that.”

Chris eyed Harper up and down. “I can see that.”

I furrowed my brows and tried to overcome the screaming voice inside my head telling me to kick this acquaintance in the chest. Instead, I said through gritted teeth, “Chris, this is Harper. Harper, Chris.” The freaking introductions lately.

They shook hands and I had to quell the urge to snatch her hand from his grasp. Get a hold of yourself, Tate. Jeez, man.

“A pleasure,” Harper said with a charming smile.

Chris held his arm out after crossing our names off the list, gesturing us inside. I grabbed Harper by the arm and pulled her close to my body. This served many purposes. It sent a clear message to Chris, it kept her safe because The Bowery was packed, and, well, it just brought her close to my body. I loved being near her. Careful, Callum.

“What time is it?” She yelled in my ear.

“Ten fifteen. Cherry doesn’t goes on for another forty-five minutes,” I yelled back, digging the proximity the band currently playing was forcing us to take.

“‘Kay. Hey,” she yelled, leaning in closely, “this band blows. Let’s find some place to talk while we wait.”

Just what I wanted to be, alone with Harper Bailey.

But that was not going to happen because the second we stepped onto the rooftop I lead her to, although the music was dulled and the breeze was wonderful, Cherry, her band mates and a few of our friends were already there, as if in waiting. You can’t turn around and drag Harper with you, Callum. When they saw us coming, they whooped and hollered, thoroughly embarrassing me.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Cherry started, rising and bowing at her engrossed crowd, “if I may have your attention, please! Introducing, for your entertainment, a one mister Callum Tate and his lovely assistant, Harper!”

The dramatic group all rose to their feet and clapped at our approach.

“I’m sorry about this,” I whispered at Harper but she only laughed. “Thank you! Thank you!” I make a slight bow myself.

“Speech! Speech!” Freddy yelled.

“Freddy. Pink hair? Seriously?” I teased.

“What kind of speech was that?” He joked.

“Harper, pink-hair-dude is Freddy.” Freddy waved. “This is Tie-Dye Tom, as you can tell from his tie-dye t-shirt.” Tom stuck his hand out.

“Tie-Dye, eh?” Harper asked.

“Yes, milady. I own seventy-seven of them.”

“Congrats?”

“Thank you.”

“And you know Cherry,” I say. Cherry hugs her hello. “And this is SO.” I point out our most Gentleman’s Quarterly member.

“A pleasure,” Harper said. “SO, is it?”

“It’s not my real name,” he corrected smoothly.

“That’s right, SO’s real name is Henry or something stupid like that,” Cherry chimed in.

“What does SO stand for, then?” Harper asked, ignoring Cherry.

“Smooth Operator,” we all said in unison, then laughed out loud.

SO takes Harper’s hand and kisses the knuckles. “Did I mention we are a dramatic bunch?” I asked. I point to each remaining member of the group as I mention their name. “Kelly, Cross, Marty, Aaron, Nat, Jared and Josiah, but we call them ‘the twins’ because, well, they’re twins, and last, but not least, Sam, short for Samantha.”

Everyone smiles and nods, finally taking note of Harper, mesmerized by the sheer beauty of her. Samantha patted the seat next to her and Harper took the offered seat. I found an empty place next to Cherry and watched Harper talk to Sam.

“You’re smitten,” I heard to my left.

“I’m not,” I tell Cherry.

“You’re smitten, dude. It’s obvious.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Callum, you wear your emotions all over your face. Plus, Harper’s sitting directly next to Sam, whom, by the way, I would have bet money on that you were in love with just two days ago, and you barely took note of her. You’re smitten with that girl.”

“I can’t help it,” I blurt out. Cherry laughed. “I really can’t, Cherry. I’m going out of my mind. I’m mad at you, by the way.”

“What? Why?” She demanded.

“We had this moment earlier. The one you interrupted. Ring a bell?”

“Oops,” she laughed. “Sorry.”

I forgave her with a reluctant smile.

“Oh my God, Cherry. I have never met anyone like her in my entire life.”

“What exactly did I interrupt?”

“It’s embarrassing but it was this strange flirtation. We were close enough to kiss but we never closed the gap.” I gripped the sides of my hair with my fists. “Gah! She is like no one I’ve ever known. She drives me batty.”

“And Sam?”

I shook my head. “Sam who? She’s a poor man’s Harper Bailey.”

“Damn, boy. Never thought I’d see the day you got over Sam.”

“Sam’s Charlie’s, anyway.” I said without thinking. I cringed when I realized what I’d said then peered over my shoulder at Cherry. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” She pretended.

“I know you’re in love with Charlie.”

“I’m not,” she said, her eyes wide.

“Cherry, come on. You and I are the king and queen of unrequited love.”

She shoved her shoulder into mine. “Am I as transparent as you?” She teased.

“Shut up,” I laughed then smiled stupidly. “Probably not.” I watched Harper’s mouth. “I want to kiss her so badly, Cherry.” I turned back to Cherry, leaning my head on the railing.

“What ya’ tellin’ me this for? Tell her,” she said, bringing my attention back to Harper, who was now staring and smiling at me.

I stood and walked over to Harper, grabbing her hand, barely acknowledging Sam. “Come with me.”

“Where are we going?” She asked.

“We go on in fifteen, Callum! Don’t stray too far!” Freddy yelled.

“We’ll be there,” I yelled back, keeping my eyes on Harper.

I looked across the rooftop deck and found a dark corner with our names written all over it but Harper surprised me by bringing up the furthest topic from my mind.

“Callum, when Charlie comes back from touring. Where are we going to stay?”

What surprised me the most in that question wasn’t the fact that she was concerned about what was going to happen but what’s going to happen to us.

“Don’t worry, Harper. I’ll take care of us.” And I meant it. I’d figure out a way. “We’re going to be fine. I have two weeks to figure something out. We can save our money and cross that bridge when we come to it. Now, for tonight, stop worrying?”

“Alright,” she grinned.

I tucked a stray hair behind her ear and hugged her tightly.

“Callum Tate,” we heard over the scratchy speakers. “You’re needed near the stage.”

I sighed loudly. “I’m gonna’ kill Cherry. Come on,” I said, dragging Harper back down the stairs and into the main hall.

We dug our way through the crowd and stood close to the edge of the stage. Cherry poked her head from between the curtains and winked at us. So many beautiful sounds surrounded us and I grabbed Harper’s hand as I listened to them; glass bottles clanked like bells against others, happy people laughing all around us, the pumping of awesome tunes coming from up above, Cherry’s band tuning their instruments.

“So, who’s in the band?” Harper yelled in my ear.

“Oh, Cherry’s on keyboards, Nat’s on drums, Freddy’s lead singer and lead guitar, Sam’s on bass, and Tie-Dye Tom is rhythm guitar.”

“Oh, very cool,” she smiled. She looked around her a bit before leaning into me. “Uhh, at the risk of sounding rude, I’ve observed that they’re all older than you,” she added.

“Yeah!” I laughed. “They’re probably mid to late twenties, the lot of them. I seem to relate to them better than kids our age. Maybe because at this age, they know what it’s like to be the only one responsible for yourself.”

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