Not in the Same Way

Twenty Seven

The loud knock on the door draws my attention from the mirror where I had been previously focused as I slid my earring into it's place.

I take a final glance, checking my reflection one last time before I slip on a pair of heels that I haven't worn in ages.

I'm probably completely overdressed and about to look foolish but I don't have time to change now so I take a cleansing breath and walk towards the door, throwing it open and feeling my next breath catch in my throat as I drink in the sight before me.

Calum looks good, damn good.

His white button down is neatly pressed and fitted well to his muscular torso, the dark tattoos on his chest just visible beneath the fabric as the light hits it.

I take a moment to collect myself and close my dropped jaw, struggling to swallow before I can speak.

"You look good Cal."

"I-I could say the same thing about you, Darby." The butterflies in my stomach wreak havoc at his words and I feel my nerves grow as he offers me his hand.

I take it, smiling as he leads me towards the kitchen.

"Shit!" He says suddenly, dropping my hand. "Wait, right here for a minute."

I'm confused as I hear his heavy footsteps and sounds of rifling through cabinets, he returns a moment later.

"Okay, now follow me." He extends his arm for me and I accept it following after him into the kitchen and shocked by the sight of the dining room.

The table has been set for two, a bottle of red wine unopened between the plates and a candle flickering in the center of the table.

"I-um, I had forgotten to light the candle." He says, smiling at his shoes. "It's probably stupid, if you don't like it I can just order a pizza or something."

"No, Cal, you put so much work into this, it's really flattering and probably entirely too much but I love it."

He gives a small smile and scratches nervously at the nape of his neck.

"Okay, um, well I got stuff to make pancakes."

"Pancakes?" I ask, unable to control my laughter. "You set up a fancy ass dinner and had us get all dressed up to cook pancakes?"

"I can only cook breakfast foods! I know pancakes are your favorite, don't laugh at me! I got blueberries and chocolate chips to go in them." He pouts.

"Okay, okay, I won't laugh." I say, forcing my lips closed though my laughter still escapes.

He sighs and rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair as I sit across from him.

"Aw, Cal. Don't be sad, you're right, pancakes are my favorite and it's really sweet that you wanted to cook." I say reaching across the table to cover his hand with mine.

He tilts his head up to meet my gaze, his cheeks flushed a deep red.

"Well, um, I'll get started then I guess." He says standing and heading to the kitchen. He grabs out the mix and the other essentials setting to work before pressing play on his phone a playlist of some of the songs I know are his favorite playing softly in the background.

"Here, let me open this." He says turning his attention to the wine bottle on the table as the first pancake cooks.

He wrings his hands before filling my glass and I reach out, my fingers able to detect the rapid beat of his pulse just below the surface of his skin.