Dear Heart, I Hate You
My emotions and enthusiasm grew with each day that passed. I planned things for us to do while Cal was here, with options depending on how tired he was or what appealed to him more. I planned my outfits, down to which panty-and-bra set I would wear each day and night. I’m such a girl sometimes. And I even checked Cooper’s hockey schedule to see if his team would be in town or not. They wouldn’t be, which made me a little sad.
Asking Cal about his favorite foods the other night on the phone had been a ploy so I could have them on hand when he was here. He loved Italian and seafood, which fit in perfectly with the ideas I had. I wasn’t the best cook, but I did have a few Italian specialties up my sleeve, thanks to my grandmother, and living in Malibu meant access to some of the best seafood restaurants around. This trip was going to be epic.
I hoped like hell my heart would survive this without falling for him completely.
I was doomed.
• • •
One day. When I opened my eyes that morning, I noticed the green light glowing on my phone that indicated unread text messages. The familiar dark blue smiley face greeted me as I swiped at my screen.
Dream Lips: One day!
I quickly typed out a response.
Jules: OMG. One day! I can’t wait, Cal!
Dream Lips: Me either.
Dream Lips: Oh yeah. Good morning, beautiful.
Our countdown had been sweet, something to help pass the time, but now the reality was actually starting to sink in. Cal would be here tomorrow!
I sucked in a long breath as I took stock of my emotions, and to my surprise I still wasn’t nervous or worried. I didn’t question whether we’d get along or how things would be when we finally saw each other again after all this time. Maybe if we hadn’t kept in touch the way we had, I might have felt differently, but all I knew was that I was extremely optimistic and filled with hope, a potentially dangerous combination, but there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Not that I’d tried.
Knowing that Cal was working and we normally never spoke during regular business hours, I hesitated for only a second before calling him anyway.
When he answered with an enthusiastic, “Hey!” I hid my surprise. I was convinced that the call would go straight to voice mail and I would have to leave him a message.
“Hi! Sorry to call during work, but I’m just so excited to see you tomorrow, and that text got me all giddy!”
“Me too. I can’t wait to hold you, babe
,” he all but cooed into the phone, and I wanted to melt into a puddle.
I crooned in a low voice, “I can’t wait to be in your arms and have those lips on me. God, I miss those lips. I want them all over me.” I felt almost breathless with my admission.
“Jules, you can’t.” He lowered his voice, and I struggled to hear him. “You can’t say those things to me while I’m at work. You’re turning me on.”
I laughed. “Sorry. I’ll let you go. I just wanted to tell you that I can’t wait to see you. I’m so glad you’re coming out.”
“Me too. I’ll see you tomorrow, but I’ll talk to you later.”
“All right. ’Bye.”
I ended the call and hopped up to get ready for work, still on a complete Cal high.
That night, I ended up working late to show a couple a new property that had just been vacated and listed. When a house was empty, it was easier to schedule the showings because I didn’t have to ask the owners to leave the property, or work around anyone else. I made myself flexible, willing to show a house at eight p.m. if that was what a potential buyer needed me to do.
When I finally climbed into my car to go home, it was almost midnight in Boston. I hesitated for a minute, debating whether I should call him or not, but said screw it. Of course, I woke him up. I had to laugh at how groggy his voice sounded, and was convinced that he wouldn’t remember our conversation in the morning.
• • •
Today!
When I woke up to Cal’s text the next morning, I realized I was wrong. Apparently his mind was a steel trap.