11. Callum

11

CALLUM

S weat slipped down my face and my muscles burned as I pushed myself through another grueling workout. Since cornering Rhys four nights ago, I couldn't concentrate for shit and sleep was essentially nonexistent. Therefore, working out was the only thing guaranteed to keep my blood pumping enough that I didn't fall asleep standing up or get run over crossing the street because I zoned out.

I'd screwed with Rhys before and never batted an eye, but this time was different. I'd crossed a different line with him that night and I didn't know how to feel about it. I should have been feeling empowered, putting him in his place and reminding him just how little he meant to me. I had proven my point that he was only worth what I could get from him, which was his misery and my life back intact.

So why did I feel like the biggest piece of shit for how easily I used him and left him to clean up the mess?

Something had shifted after we opened up to each other at the diner. For some godforsaken reason, I told him things I'd never shared with another soul. Being so callous with him after that felt wrong. It also didn't help that Griffin had been a perverted dipshit and caught me with my pants down. Literally. I didn't care about that so much since he'd seen me naked enough times in the locker room and the few times he'd sucked my dick, plus he's been privy to my sex life since we started rooming together .

But the thought of him seeing Rhys vulnerable like that twisted something inside me that made me feel nauseous and kind of pissed. Why the fuck should I care? He meant nothing to me. He was a weird, naive, lanky nerd who I never would have looked twice at if he hadn't been instrumental in screwing up my good name.

Yet for the hundredth time in the last four days, I pulled out my phone to check for a notification I knew wouldn't be there.

Me

You enjoy your Halloween, Sweetness? Hope you stayed safe with all the monsters out there.

Aw, is someone still a little angry with me?

Come on, Evans. Don't be like that. It's been two days. You know seeing my name on your screen gives you the warm fuzzies. Just admit you miss me.

Would it help if I said I'm sorry?

Would sending a nude get me a little forgiveness? I'm sure you're missing my cock right about now…

Okay, that was a misstep. I see that now.

You disappoint me, Sweetness…I thought ghosting would be beneath you.

I'm sorry, Rhys. For real.

If I had seen anyone else be as pathetically needy and desperate as I had been texting Rhys, I would have kicked their ass to knock some sense into them. It was a compulsion at that point to try to get a response from him, and it was seriously pissing me off. One fucking blowjob and this dude had short-circuited my brain, turning me inside out and unrecognizable. It didn't make a lick of sense to me, none of it.

I was Callum fucking Hawkins. I didn't text bomb people or ask for their forgiveness. I definitely didn't feel shit like remorse or anxiety. This wasn't me. I had to get a grip before I careened so far over the edge that even rescue crews couldn't save me.

“Hawkins!” Coach's voice boomed across the weight room, snapping me out of my internal bedlam .

“Yeah, coach?” I jogged over to where he stood, his expression inscrutable as always.

“You've put in a lot of work lately. You're at six days a week on your fitness logs, correct?”

“Yes sir,” I answered. “I'm just trying to make up for all the sh—crap from earlier this year.”

Coach nodded at me and gave me a once-over. “Well, I think you're on the right track. Your grades are solid, you're obviously putting in the work, and Kenji has mentioned you've been nothing but supportive of him taking over in the interim. I'm proud of you, kid.”

His praise should have lit me up and unfurled the knot in my stomach that had been there since the haunted house. Instead, guilt hung heavy in my gut and my throat tightened on a painful swallow. In truth, I hadn't given him much to be proud of and if he caught wind of my questionable tactics with Rhys, he'd skewer me on my own Lacrosse stick.

I couldn't force my words to work, so I simply nodded in response.

“I know you're still concerned about your scholarship,” Coach continued, and nerves spiked my adrenaline. “Nothing's guaranteed yet, but I think you'll be alright. Just keep your nose clean, your eye on the prize, and it should be just fine.”

My breath left me in a rush, relief flooding my system even as guilt settled deeper in my chest. I had let the anger and dread of possibly being forced out of school poison me and Rhys had suffered because of it. It was a foreign concept to me to want to make amends since I had spent a chunk of my life living with no regrets and doing what I wanted.

But I'd be lying if I said that Rhys ignoring my texts didn't bother me at all. I hated that it did. What was it about innocent Evans that had him buried so deep under my skin?

Where was my crippling anger and hatred for this guy? Did he suck it all out through my dick? I felt unsettled, not really sure what I wanted or what I felt anymore. The night of my aunt's call I had been so livid and unhinged, seeking something to ground me, and Rhys had come along like an answer to my desperate prayer. I hadn't intended to open up to him as much as I did, but once I let the words out I couldn't stop them.

And I had been captivated by what he had told me in turn. My intuition had told me there was something deeper connecting us, but having it confirmed cracked something inside me. We were bound by loss and anchored together in pain. When he had professed his ludicrous belief in finding this unconditional, enduring love, it had snapped the last thread holding me together that night, and as always I shut it all down and lashed out.

He had me feeling too much, so I chose to feel nothing at all. I hid behind my walls and responded with malice. It was much easier to focus on the ire I felt for him rather than what he had inadvertently ignited in me with a single conversation: hope.

Even if I was unable to identify what it was exactly that kept Rhys rooted in my head, I couldn't ignore the pull toward him.

He was still my target, but now I had a new goal in mind.

Students poured out of the classroom as I clung to the wall just outside the door in an effort not to get trampled or miss the one person I needed to see. I barely had enough time to shower after my workout and book it to the coffee cart before Rhys' class let out, the same one I had snuck into weeks ago. Just as I thought I had somehow missed him, I saw his rumpled head of thick, wavy hair duck out in the last wave, hauling ass in the opposite direction. I fought against the crowd to catch up to him, sneaking up on his left.

“If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to avoid me, Sweetness,” I whispered teasingly into his ear.

Rhys whipped around startled and nearly sent the two coffees in my hand flying.

Okay. Another misstep. I recognize that now. Duly noted.

He just stared at me with his bright eyes, mouth hanging open like he had seen a ghost. Now that I was here, I had forgotten everything I had planned to say to get him to talk to me. After a handful of painfully uncomfortable seconds, I snapped out of it and cleared my throat.

“Uh, here. I brought you coffee. I didn't know how you took it, but figured cream and sugar were safe bets,” I said, handing him the cup. I wasn't entirely sure he'd take my peace offering, but felt oddly satisfied when he took it from me gingerly, giving me a small smile.

In the next second though, his smile fell clean off and he pivoted on his heel away from me. With a sinking feeling in my gut, I watched him march over to the trash can and drop the coffee in with a plop. He then took off out the door without another glance at me.

Okay, first platoon has been mowed down. Gotta send in air support. Pray for the troops…

Tossing my own coffee in the bin since I was no longer in the mood, I raced out the door before he could get lost in the crowd. I spotted him just up ahead and ran after him. I grabbed his arm, yanking him over to a shady area where we hopefully wouldn't be interrupted.

“Get off me!” Rhys barked, failing to rip his arm from my grasp. I wasn't letting him run away this time. Even my patience had its limits.

“No. There's things I need to say to you,” I said firmly, locking on his furious gaze and willing him to see my resolve.

“What? You gonna make me drop to my knees again and service you right here? Need more of an audience than we had last time?” he snarled. It felt like a knife to the gut. His words needled at something in my memory, and I quickly realized that he had to have heard me talking to Griffin and Kenji after I left him in that hallway. Fuck, this wasn't good.

“I never should have done that?—”

“Damn right, you shouldn't have! Oops, guess I owe you a dollar for your freaking swear jar,” Rhys spat out, digging out a crinkled dollar bill from his back pocket and throwing it in my face.

The gesture should have infuriated me, but it didn't. All I could feel was hopeless, thinking that I had pushed him one time too many, and that thought inexplicably had my stomach cramping and sadness seeping in.

“Rhys, please hear me out…” I begged as he tried again to pull away from me. Holding onto him seemed dire, as if I let him escape from me now, I'd never see him again.

Ugh, I'm feeling too many things. What in the hell is happening to me right now? Am I starting to…care??

“ Oh I know! Pop quiz, Hawk!” Rhys chimed with fake enthusiasm. It felt so wrong to hear him call me that. I never thought I'd miss someone calling me Cal again. “If someone is not responding to your texts, what is the message they are trying to convey?”

“Rhys, I am so?— ”

“Ding ding ding! It means he's over your crap and wants nothing to do with you!”

“Listen, I really?—”

“You went too far?—”

“I know I did?—”

“—and you are nothing but a?—”

“Monster,” I blurted out, cutting him off. It worked to stop his stream of consciousness and he stood gaping at me again, evidently shocked by my admission. “I was a complete asshole to you, and if you'll let me, I'd really like to take you to lunch and explain.”

My heart was in my throat as I waited for him to either give me a chance or turn me down flat. How had I gone from wanting to destroy this guy to…being worried he'd never talk to me again? I was so fucking fucked here.

Rhys' gaze was piercing and pensive, his eyes never leaving mine like he was searching their depths for any deception. He wouldn't find any. I only wanted to talk to him.

“I'm going to ask you three questions, and I expect you to answer them honestly. If you do, then I'll agree to lunch,” he said matter-of-factly. Instantly I was nervous because this could easily veer into territory that I was wildly uncomfortable discussing.

“Do I at least get veto power on a question?” I hedged.

“Nope. Three questions, three answers, or no deal.” His lips were set in a tight line and I knew this was the toll I had to pay.

“Fine. Shoot,” I reluctantly agreed.

“Did you plan for your friend to spy on us that night?” Rhys asked.

“No. I didn't know he would do that, and I'm sorry that he did,” I answered honestly, keeping my gaze trained on his intently.

“Are you still going to push me to drop my report against you?”

Now that was the kicker, and I should have anticipated that question from him. After all, it was fair. I had started this whole crusade to get him to retract what he told my Coach and clear my name. Everything hateful I had done or said to him was centered around that goal. However, I didn't crave that vindication like I had before, and it wasn't what I wanted most anymore.

“No, I'm not. I won't ask you about it again,” I responded, still never wavering from the intense look he gave me. I needed him to see how sincere I was. His eyes narrowed, weighing my words carefully .

“Why do you care about talking to me at all? Why am I worth it?”

That I hadn't been prepared for. I was still trying to figure out why my feelings had done a 180 and now I was expected to spill my guts to him?

“That's technically two questions.” I tried to deflect, but Rhys wasn't having it.

“You have three seconds to answer,” he said impassively. Well, why not cue the fucking Jeopardy music while we're at it?

“Shit, okay…honestly, I don't entirely know why, but I guess…” I paused, unsure how to continue.

“Two seconds.”

“Ugh, alright! I guess I haven't felt this comfortable with anyone in a really long time,” I rushed out. “I know I've been a shithead to you and done some messed up things, but I can't stop thinking about how texting with you and being around you makes it easy to be me . It's like I can take a full breath around you and I don't have to constantly be on my guard. It takes a lot out of me to be around people, talk to them, just be in their presence. It can be exhausting, even when I have fun and like it. With you, it's different. It's effortless and…I'm not ready to let that go.”

I felt raw and exposed sharing with Rhys why I was adamant about keeping him around. There was more stirring beneath the surface that I wasn't equipped to deal with yet, so I could only give him this. This was the most honesty I could spare.

“What happened to hating me and doing things the “hard way”, huh? That just disappear overnight?” Rhys jabbed. I was on the precipice of this all going to shit, so I forced down my frustration and stuck to what he wanted. Honesty.

“As much as it pained me to admit to myself,” I started slowly, “I realized that I don't actually hate you anymore. I'm not gonna lie, I did hate you. I was pissed at you for everything that happened and wanted to hurt you for what you did, but I got to know you and it changed things for me. I'm not saying to forget about everything I did or forgive me for it. All I want is a chance for us to talk, get to know each other better. Maybe start over and try to be friends?”

“You said we were friends before, and that didn't exactly work out for me,” he commented.

I stifled the growl working its way up my chest, feeling annoyed for how much he was making me work for it. Then I reminded myself that I hadn't exactly made it easy for him to trust me. I couldn't blame him for his suspicion.

“Well, how about we ditch the label and just consider ourselves friendly in an undefined, unconventional way and go from there?” I suggested awkwardly. Jesus, I was making this weird.

The silence felt interminable as Rhys considered what I said, leaving me to stand there like an idiot while he decided whether I was worth a chance or not.

The sad truth was I knew I wasn't worth it. I was poison. I took my anger out on Rhys for my own screw up. As much as I despised her, my aunt was right to say I was trash and undeserving of the attention I got. In many ways, I shouldn't have been born. It was just a fact. I was nothing, a fraud who only pretended he was worth a shit.

My mom was the only one who made me feel like I was good enough. Until Rhys. Through all the crap I put him through, he saw something in me and tried to tear down my walls. I wasn't able to just give that up now that I'd found it again.

He opened his arms wide and looked at me expectantly. I could only blink at him.

“…is that supposed to mean something?”

“Just come here.” Rhys motioned for me to step closer, but I stayed rooted in place.

“Seriously though, why?”

He rolled his eyes at my obstinance. “It's a hug. You know, an embrace meant to convey warmth and comfort to another person, sometimes even an unconventional, undefined friend?”

“You know, I'm all good,” I said, trying and failing to give him a convincing smile.

“No you're not.”

“I really am...”

“Just give into it.”

“I'd feel all itchy…”

“I'll scratch it for you.”

“Now that just sounds weird.”

“CAL! Shut up and get over here,” Rhys barked at me. I stepped forward and let him fold his arms around me. The sensation was weird, but I couldn't deny that it also felt good. Really good. For some reason, my own arms came up and slipped around his back and I strangely didn't want him to let go. I held my breath, unwilling to move as if it would shatter the tenuous moment. After a few seconds, Rhys pulled back and gave me a small smile.

“Where are we going for lunch?” he asked and I finally let myself breathe.