Callie was nervous about seeing Oscar. It was ridiculous. She shouldn't be. But she was.
She changed outfits numerous times before she left her apartment, finally settling on a rich, emerald green halter-neck, black bootleg jeans and a pair of strappy green heels. With her hair in soft waves brushing her shoulder blades, make-up which made her lashes longer and lips fuller, it provided the kind of confidence-boosting look she could wear as a protective armor to hide her unease.
It had been five days since they saw each other face-to-face, the longest they'd been apart since he had chicken pox in the summer between Junior and Senior High. He could have called or texted her, but he hadn't and for a while Callie was a little upset about that. Then she remembered she'd asked him for space, realized he was giving it to her and the reminder of how considerate he could be made her feel worse.
She'd have texted him every day if the situation was reversed.
The party was lively when she got there, a loud cacophony of conversation competing with a heavy beat of music. Her eyes automatically sought out Oscar's messy mop of dark hair, hungry for a glimpse of him after being starved for so long.
But before she could find him, their host found her.
"Callie-licious! You made it." Harry grinned and enfolded her in a quick, tight hug. "Welcome to my humble abode."
She smiled in reply. Humble, her ass. The square footage alone placed the open plan apartment in fantasy-land for the majority of New Yorker's. Add its location overlooking the Hudson to the glimpses of stunning skyscraper-filled views she could see through the floor-to-ceiling windows lining one wall, and she was just a teensy bit jealous.
It made her apartment look like a cardboard box.
How could Harry afford a place this great? The last she heard, he was barely a couple of rungs up from the mail room on the career ladder. And if some elderly relative passed away and left him a fortune, she hadn't heard anything about it from Oscar.
Still, not really any of her business, was it? And she was happy for him.
"Why thank you, kind sir." She handed him a gift-wrapped box. "Happy new apartment day."
He tore into the package like an excited child, his face lighting up when the contents were revealed. "This can't be an original Battlestar Galactica prop. Where did you get it?"
"EBay. Not an original, I'm afraid. It's a replica." Her smile was apologetic. The originals cost a fortune and she wasn't making enough money to stop being cautious about where she spent every cent. "But I know you're a fan, so I thought you might have fun with it."
"I will." Harry kissed her cheek. "You're the best. You sure I can't get you to be a surrogate mother for my children? That way they'd be both smart and super-hot. It would be our gift to mankind and the planet."
Callie laughed. "Tempting, but the answer's still no."
He slapped a palm against his chest.
"Breaks my heart every time. You see Oz, yet?" The turn of his head gave Callie time to school her expression. "I know he was over by the bar a minute ago."
"I'm sure I'll bump into him at some point," she replied, ignoring the tightening nerves in her stomach.
"Come on then, let's get you a drink."
Callie followed his lead, a glass of something colorful with a bendy straw and tiny umbrella magically appearing in her hand as she was introduced to people she'd never met before.
She didn't realize Harry had so many friends.
Some were a lot of fun, completely over-the-top like their host, loud and gregarious. Others were quieter and spoke the same nerdy, tech-talk she would never understand in a million years. She was the gal who still believed turning things off and back on again was the solution to every technical issue, and they would probably be horrified by that.
All the while, she searched for Oscar.
When she finally found him, he was by the windows on the other side of the room, laughing at something someone had said. Her heart made an odd little twisting jump of recognition at the sight of him while the movement of the crowd forced her to move her head back and forth so she could keep him in sight.
Disappointingly, he didn't notice her.
With hindsight, she realized it was the ideal opportunity to check him out without getting caught. What's more, where they were would have made it easier to pretend he was just some random guy who'd caught her eye.
But that was her all over. She'd never been able to wait for anything. Why put off 'til tomorrow what you could screw up today? That had always been her motto.
Taking a sip of her drink, she let her gaze rove over him.
He was dressed in his usual blue jeans and T-Shirt combo, the latter a deep blue which highlighted the color of his eyes and was form fitting enough to make her wonder if he'd done more than lose weight. It looked like he'd toned up, might even have some muscle definition.
Her gaze zeroed in on the subtle flex of a bicep as he lifted a beer bottle to his mouth.
Had he been working out?
She vaguely remembered him mentioning a gym membership after New Year's – two, maybe three years ago? – but had dismissed it as one of the resolutions people didn't stick to for more than a few weeks.
If he had stuck to it, why didn't she know that? When had he found the time, and more importantly, how had she missed the results?
With another sip, her gaze returned to his face. Surely there wasn't anything she'd missed there?
Same even features, same lean jaw and full mouth. He was smiling one of his thousand-watt smiles, flashing hints of dimples from behind the cover of a stubbly beard. It made her smile in return and had the same effect on the people around him.
The loss of it as he looked around the room made her feel a little bereft.
Then their gazes locked and she had to force her feet to stay in place while her nervousness gave way to an impulse to run away and hide.
Stop it, she scolded silently. It's Oscar. He'll forgive you. He always forgives you. No matter what you've done.
But he didn't do anything to put her mind at ease.
Instead of one of the affectionate smiles he would normally have given her, he stared at her like she was an adversary he was sizing up for battle. His gaze was intense and unwavering, daring her to go right ahead and run but warning her there would be consequences if she did.
If she didn't know him, she might have felt threatened. It certainly wouldn't have encouraged her to approach him. But before she could figure out why it created something akin to an effervescent sparkle of anticipation in her veins, he blinked, angled his head and his mouth curved into the smile she'd hoped to see.
He pointed at the bar and raised his brows.
Callie nodded in reply and excused herself from the circle of people she'd forgotten were there. She made her way through the crowd, bumping and jostling and excusing herself several times along the way, her gaze regularly seeking out Oscar like he was a lifeline.
The interruptions they both experienced added to the anticipation, raising her heart rate as the distance between them decreased. She longed to be swept into one of his familiar, solid hugs, told everything was okay and they would be fine, the things he'd tried to tell her with a different smile the last time she saw him.
In return, she wanted to apologize for making him uncomfortable, for getting upset and asking for space when all it had done was prove how much gloomier her life would be without him in it.
"Callie."
She dragged her gaze away from Oscar, so close and yet still too far away, and found his roomie, Jasper, standing in front of her.
"You're here."
"Hey, Jazz." It was difficult not to be irritated by his presence. "Of course, I'm here." She pinned a bright smile in place. "Said I would be, didn't I?"
"Can't 'member," Jasper said with a slight slur to his speech. "Might've been better if you stayed way..."
Callie blinked in confusion as he hiccuped.
"Clean break." The demonstrative slice of his hand through the air between them made him rock unsteadily on his feet. "Best thing. Pain'll go way."
Her gaze was drawn to Oscar as he noticed who she was with and frowned.
"Erm..." She wasn't quite sure what to say. "Look, Jasper, I don't know what Oscar told you, but -"
"Shouldn't mess with him," Jasper warned with wide eyes and a waggling forefinger. "Very bad."
A wave of shame washed over her. "I know."
"Could get hurt..."
She knew that, too. But she hadn't set out to hurt him. Surely Oscar knew that?
"Just sayin'..." Jasper took a swig from what looked to be a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels. "'Serve better. Best be up front, know what you're getting into."
Callie wasn't sure what was going on. Drunk Jasper was a rarity, one which might be amusing if he lightened up a tad. Drunk Jasper saying he thought Oscar deserved better than her and it was best to be up front about it?
Well, that one kinda stung.
She thought the nerdketeers liked her. They were Oscar's friends. She wanted them to like her.
When the music changed to a louder, eardrum pounding beat and a large palm flattened on the naked skin just above the inward curve of her spine, Callie's gaze darted to the side and up.
Her breath caught. Oscar.
He raised his voice to shout, "Hey."
"Hey," she yelled back.
"You okay?"
Not really, but she nodded and swayed closer to his side, content to have his hand stay where it was, even if she could feel the warmth of his touch seeping into her skin again. She didn't care if it was a reminder of the last time he touched her or that she was just as aware of his presence now as she'd been then. All that mattered was he was right there.
Did he know how much she'd missed him?
If he could read the thought in her eyes, he didn't look overly pleased about it, a short glare thrown at Jasper before he leaned closer to her ear.
"What did he say to you?"
Callie shook her head. One problem at a time and making things right with her bestie was more important.
"Jasper." There was a note of warning in Oscar's tone as he shouted louder to be heard over the music. "You're drunk. Go find coffee or a place to sleep it off."
"Not drunk," Jasper argued with another sway.
"Yes, you are. Go. Now."
There was a silent stand-off which lasted all of five seconds. Then Jasper backed down, turned, and left.
Movement in the crowd bumped someone into Oscar's back, which in turn pushed him up against Callie. Reaching an arm out to stop her drink spilling, she placed the palm of her free hand on his chest to steady herself. At the same time, the hand on her back slid lower, blazing a heated trail over the skin covering her spine.
When had his hands got so hot and why was her skin suddenly so sensitive?
Instantaneously, she was conscious of his clean, masculine scent and the layer of muscle she could feel under her hand. As her gaze slowly climbed upwards, over the column of his neck to the tense line of his jaw, the air thickened. And when she looked at his mouth, it hit her how little effort it would take for them to engage in a lip lock.
She wondered what it would feel like to kiss him, what his mouth would feel like on hers, if the stubble would tickle when she kissed him or provide a decadent sandpaper-like contrast to the softness of his lips.
The realization she wanted to know the answers to those questions wasn't one of horror. If anything, her body seemed totally on board with the idea.
Erratic heartbeat, pounding pulse, heavy breasts, tightening abdomen...
Wait a minute.
Was she experiencing a spark of attraction to Oscar?
Had the power of suggestion been enough to ignite it? She didn't think anyone could force themselves to believe something. But they could let themselves believe. By opening herself up to the possibility was it a case of bam! And just like that, it was there?
It felt too convenient, too simple, too good to be true. Could she really have everything they had and more, with him?
Then another thought hit her.
If she let herself believe in it, if she trusted in it, she would have so much more to lose than her best friend.
Oscar took a half-step back, ducked down and searched her eyes, obviously concerned. What he saw erased it, something unreadable taking its place. He froze, frowned and tore his gaze away, long fingers flexing against her skin before he dropped his arm to his side.
"You want to get some air?" he shouted.
Callie nodded, grateful for the reprieve.
Threading their fingers together, he led her through the crowd. It was something he'd done countless times and she'd never thought about before. But while still reeling from the recent revelation she might maybe, possibly, be kind of attracted to him, it felt different. His grip was firmer, more possessive than protective, made it feel like he was a take charge kinda guy.
Callie had always been turned on by guys who could make her feel small and delicate and feminine, who knew what they wanted and how to get it. But she'd never thought of Oscar that way. Until now.
It made her nervous about being alone with him. Which was ridiculous on a whole other level. Because he was still Oscar.
She just needed to remember that.