Part 2 – Growth
The awaited Christmas recital is only a few weeks away, and the custom-made outfits Adelaide ordered for the girls have finally arrived at TDP.
Their tutus are bright red, paired with a matching bodysuit and a black belt. On their hair, they’re supposed to wear one of those big dramatic clips with a huge Christmas present attached to it (if they manage to keep them in place, that is).
Everything looks super adorable, and I can’t wait for the girls to try them on. Their parents are going to die of cuteness—I know I will.
Grabbing one of the outfits, I double check it’s Maddie’s size before putting it away in my locker. Cal texted me earlier that she was feeling a bit under the weather, so I promised to take it to his apartment before dinner time later today.
It’s been a couple of weeks since I told him about the assault, and while things haven’t really changed between us, they also have. Kind of.
Don’t get me wrong—he’s never once coddled me so far, although I’ve caught him looking at me with that signature pity look of his a couple of times. But it’s all right. Can I really blame him?
Learning that one of your closest friends was raped years ago and still deals with the consequences can’t be an easy truth to stomach. When I told Em about our conversation at The Teal Rose, she reassured me that Cal was taking it way better than she did back in the day.
She also insisted that I totally have a crush on him. Bah.
On another note, I’ve finally come up with an idea for my final project—a historical romance between a noblewoman and a stableboy. You don’t have to tell me it’s mediocre at best. I know that.
The twist is that the male protagonist isn’t really a stableboy, but a nobleman in disguise who’s plotting the demise of the female protagonist’s father by making his daughter fall in love with him.
I know, groundbreaking.
I still haven’t made up my mind about whether I want to add smut or not. Since Professor Danner will be reading it and grading it, probably not. On top of that, I still haven’t figured out if I’m comfortable with writing spicy scenes in the first place. Sure, I have no problem reading them and I enjoy most of them, but writing them takes some form of talent that I lack. Experience, probably.
Somewhere between me telling Cal about my past and devouring erotica, the sheer determination to ‘put myself back on the market’—as Amber would so eloquently say—spiraled out of control. Well, maybe that sounds overdramatic, but the sentiment remains the same.
As crazy as it might sound, romance books are teaching me that healthy, safe sexual relationships can be created with trust and the right person. That it’s okay to refuse or demand things from your partner.
Everything changed for me when I unwarily picked up a book about a sexual assault survivor at the local library almost a week ago. Needless to say, I returned it the next day after staying up until four in the morning to finish it. I couldn’t put it down.
In the book, the protagonist is a young woman whose main issue is to overcome the toxic notion that survivors shouldn’t have any kind of physical relationships after their assault because they’re too traumatized. And while I’ve never personally struggled with such a mindset, it solidified some truths for me—that trauma doesn’t define a person, that everyone is different and each survivor has a different timing, and that we’ll know when we are ready to move on if ever.
And I am. I feel it.
The question, however, is who am I ready to take this next step with?
Am I truly ready to flirt with a guy and see where it goes?
The image of Luke crosses my mind briefly. In the past few weeks, we’ve talked more often after class, and he stops by the thrift store every Saturday morning. He hasn’t given me any reason to believe his niceness is just an act—like, come on, he even tags me in memes sometimes.
Maybe I could ask him on a date or something? Grabbing a coffee together at campus seems innocent enough, perfect to test the waters. Sure, I might not be super attracted to him, and he might not make my heart beat and my soul fill with undying love, but we could get there. Right? Rome wasn’t built in a day.
Before I chicken out, I grab my phone as I prepare to leave TDP for the day and message him on Instagram since we haven’t exchanged phone numbers yet.
Me: Hi, Luke. Just wondering if you wanted to grab a coffee after class tomorrow? You can totally say no
I’m already in my Uber to Cal’s apartment when my phone buzzes.
Luke: As if. Looking forward to it 🙂
Good. Great. Yes, this is good. Putting myself out there is what I’m ready to do. Perfect.
Before my head starts spinning in all possible directions—like, ‘What if he ends up being just like Dax?’—my ride arrives at Cal’s fancy neighborhood, and my focus switches to Maddie’s excited little face when she sees the costume. Hopefully she isn’t feeling too poorly anymore.
When the elevator stops on Cal’s floor, his front door is slightly ajar, so I let myself in. “Hey, it’s me.” I peek my head inside and, sure enough, he’s cooking something on the stove. By the smell of it, I would guess it’s an omelet.
“Hey.” He smiles at me over his shoulder. “Maddie’s in bed. She’s feeling better, though, so if you could make her come here for dinner it would be great.”
“Sure.” But first, I walk up to him and give him a side hug. It’s something we do a lot—hugging. Turns out both of us love physical touch, and he’s the best hugger ever. So, win-win. “How was your day?”
“Fully booked, so I can’t complain.”
“But…”
“But I’m exhausted.” The corner of his lips twitches, giving me that side smile I like so much. It shouldn’t make my heart beat faster, but it does, and I’m not going to sit here and unpack why. Nope.
I rub his back in a comforting gesture. “The day’s over, so forget about it.” That’s what my dads always used to tell me when I came back from school all stressed out. “I’m going to see Maddie.”
Before I get the chance to step away, though, a strong pair of arms wraps around my middle and pulls me against a hard chest. Cal holds me tightly and rests his chin on top of my head. “Gotta give you a proper hug.”
I chuckle and rest my hands on his bulky, tattooed forearms. “Your omelet will get burned.”
“Then let it burn.” He pulls me even closer to the point where I’m struggling to breathe, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t love his monster hugs. They make me feel cocooned. Sooner than I would’ve liked, though, he releases me. “Maddie’s way too excited about the costume. Did you bring it?”
I smirk and show him the bag I’m holding. “It’s in here. Let’s see what she thinks.”
When I go into her room, she’s sitting in bed watching something on Cal’s tablet. The second she spots me at the door and notices what I’m carrying, she jumps off the mattress and sprints towards me. “I wanna see it! I wanna see it!” she chants with a kind of excitement that is difficult to match. I guess she’s feeling better after all.
I laugh and pull out the costume from my bag, watching as her eyes fill with light and joy. “What do you think? Do you want to try it on and show your brother?”
“Yes!” Quicker than lighting, she grabs the tutu and I help her change just like we do at the studio. She doesn’t have her tights or shoes here, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Once she’s ready, I put her hair up on a tight bun and place the Christmas present pin securely on her hair.
She’s got one of those huge wall mirrors in her room, and she spends a good couple of minutes staring lovingly at her reflection. Smiling to myself, I can’t help but marvel at the princess explosion that is this bedroom. The soft pink and white tones, the big canopy bed and vanity, the fluffy blankets and rugs, all the toys… Cal wasn’t joking when he said he’d splurged to make her comfortable here.
And for some reason, the thought of him putting this princess bedroom together makes my breathing a little more difficult.
No.
I shouldn’t… It shouldn’t tingle like this. It’s nothing. I’m just PMSing, that’s why my mind is wandering to such dangerous territories.
“Let’s show Sammy,” Maddie resolves once she’s done admiring her cute outfit. Taking my hand, we walk together to the kitchen where Cal’s just finished making three cheesy omelets. “Sammy! Look!”
She twirls around like a ballerina so he can see the full effect. I steal a quick glance and him and—
Oh, hell.
His face softens, eyes lighting up with such raw love that I almost have to look away. He looks at her like she holds his entire world in her hands and trusts her to keep it safe forever.
“You look beautiful, princess.” He takes her hand in his much larger one and twirls her around, making her laugh. “Are you feeling better? I made dinner.”
“Yes!” When she stops dancing around, she turns to look at me with a serious expression on her face. “I can’t get the tutu dirty. Can you help me change?”
I smile at her thoughtfulness. “Of course, sweetheart.”
Maddie disappears down the hall a second later, jumping and babbling with pure excitement, and before I follow her, I make the mistake of glancing back at Cal.
He looks at me like I hold his world in my hands, too.
***
“That baby is his.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
“But they haven’t hooked up since… What? Last season?”
I shrug. “Don’t care. The baby is Jonah’s. Just wait and see.”
After we finished The Office, Cal and I decided to start a new show that neither of us had seen before. This one is about a high-profile law firm where every character is messier than the last. Cue the drama stemming from an unplanned pregnancy in which the identity of the father is unclear, and I’m hooked. As much as he tries to deny it, he is too.
My feet rest on his lap while we both lie on the couch like the true lazy pair we are at heart. In this moment with the lights off, the TV playing softly with a good show, and Cal’s comforting presence by my side, I don’t think I’ve ever felt more at ease in a long time. I could fall asleep right here, but I know I shouldn’t.
Ever since that first time I came to his place and accidentally fell asleep, I haven’t spent the night here. Why would I? It’s not like I don’t have my own place. Plus, it would be weird to do sleepovers at our big age. Sure, I’m only twenty-two and he’s thirty, but it would be strange anyway. I’m not his girlfriend, I shouldn’t stay over.
And why am I imagining now what it would be like to be Cal’s girlfriend?
Before I can convince myself that going down this road is the worst idea I’ve had in years, I’m already there.
If we were dating, I have no doubts in my mind he’d treat me like a true princess. I mean, you just have to see how he’s with his sister—Cal is the kind of man who does anything for the people he loves. I know for sure he’d take care of me, shower me with affection but also give me space if I asked for it. He’d take me out on the most thoughtful dates and make me feel special every day no matter what we were doing, because that’s just who he is.
And intimately… My forehead starts sweating just thinking about how gentle and attentive he’d be in bed, but I also feel like he has a rough, dominant side to him he doesn’t show often. Just like the men in my books.
If I close my eyes, I can feel his big hands on my waist, guiding all my movements as I straddle his lap, positioning his cock right at my damp entrance and—
I start coughing.
“Don’t die on me.” He grabs my ankle and gives it a squeeze.
What the hell was that?
“You look flustered,” he comments, eyes narrowed in my direction.
“What? I’m not flustered.” Very convincing.
“You are.” Of course, he’s not letting this go. “What’s going on? Are you nervous about something?”
Then he goes and makes it worse by glancing down at my ankle and removing his hand, and I blurt out the last thing I wanted to tell him. “It’s not you, Cal. Your hand is fine, leave it. I just… I kind of have a date tomorrow, and I’m a bit anxious about it.”
His hand stills mid-air on its way back to my ankle. “A date?”
I sit up straight on the couch. “Yeah. Remember Luke, from the thrift store? Blond hair, blue eyes…”
“I remember him.” His stiff tone catches me off-guard.
“All right… Well, I asked him to grab a coffee after class tomorrow and he said yes.”
“Cool.” He runs a hand through his dark hair, and as I follow the movement, I catch myself staring a bit too long at his huge bicep as it flexes. I swear it’s bigger than my head. I’m serious. “If you like him and he’s a good guy, go for it.”
“Thank you.” And I mean it. “I appreciate your support more than you think. As much as he tries, Aaron would be freaking out right now.”
He chuckles at that, but it doesn’t sound right. “Well, you let me know if he’s an asshole and I’ll go beat him up.”
“Cal!” I slap his oh-so-muscled arm, and when he laughs this time, it sounds a little bit more real. “Don’t say stuff like that. He’s nice.”
He shoots me a side glance like he isn’t buying a word. “Sometimes nice isn’t enough.”
I roll my eyes. “Trust me, I’m aware. I’ll watch out for the signs. It’s just coffee at campus, so I should be fine.”
“I trust your judgment,” he reassures me. “But my offer still stands.”
“Thanks, Sammy.” I pat his arm again in a friendly gesture, totally not because I want to touch him again, as I get up and stretch my arms over my head. “It’s getting late, I’m gonna call an Uber.”
“All right.” He pauses the TV and gets up with me. “Text me when you get home, yeah?”
I roll my eyes again, but I’m smiling. “As if I ever forget.”
With a small grin, he ruffles my hair like the annoying ass he is. As I leave his apartment fifteen minutes later, though, I can’t help but think something’s off with him—I just can’t put my finger on it. He said he was exhausted, didn’t he? It’s probably that.
Only that, when I get to my empty bedroom—Em is spending the night at a friend’s—there’s a nagging feeling inside of me that tells me it’s something else.
