CHAPTER 164: ENERGY FOR ENERGY

After the phone call with her mother, Emily had been unable to fall asleep. She had tossed and turned until she decided to spend the time coming up with a plan on how to move on.

She woke up the next morning with a surge of determination. Although her limbs felt stiff from the tossing and turning of the night before, her heart felt lighter.

Her mother’s voice still echoed gently in her mind — calm, comforting, and full of love.

She rolled out of bed, tying her hair into a messy ponytail before slipping into a pair of navy blue yoga leggings and a snug sleeveless matching tank top. The fabric clung gently to her skin, and she glanced at herself in the mirror with a little nod of approval.

Padding barefoot to the center of the room, she stood with her feet hip-width apart and took a deep breath in. Her arms rose above her head, stretching toward the sky. The movement pulled the tightness from her shoulders, the tension from her spine.

She moved through the stretches slowly—Mountain pose, Downward Dog, Cat-Cow, Warrior. Her feet pressed into the smooth floor, and her palms slipped a little when she reached forward in a low lunge. She sighed.

"I need a mat," she mumbled as she made a mental note to get herself a yoga mat for the duration of her stay in Husla.

By the time she was done, her back was damp with sweat and the front of her tank top clung lightly to her skin. Her throat felt dry, her mouth parched.

She rose from her final stretch and walked toward the door, fanning herself with one hand as she stepped out into the hallway. Her bare feet padded against the tiles as she headed toward the kitchen.

The sound of clinking ceramics met her ears first. And then she stopped.

Callan stood by the counter, tall and clean-cut in a grey t-shirt and joggers, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the coffee machine. The scent of rich roast filled the room, warm and bitter.

Emily’s heart gave an irritating little jolt, betraying her decision to stop letting him affect her.

Callan was still groggy, his hand wrapped around the mug as hot steam curled up toward his face. He hadn’t slept much.

How could he when his head kept replaying every detail of the past?

He didn’t hear her walk in, but he felt something shift. The air in the kitchen changed. And when he looked up, his breath caught when he saw her.

Emily stood just a few steps away from him, her long hair pulled up into a loose ponytail, wisps of it clinging to her face from sweat. Her skin glistened slightly, her cheeks were pink. Her body looked lithe, strong, feminine. His eyes trailed down before he caught himself— and pulled them back up.

She looked... stunning.

Emily’s heart raced and her pulse quickened as she felt his eyes on her. Refusing to be caught in his web again, she straightened her spine quickly and put on a breezy smile as she stepped into the kitchen. "Good morning, Callan," she greeted with a brightness that felt too cheerful.

He blinked. "Morning," he said, his voice deeper than usual, rough.

Emily walked past him without sparing a glance, her ponytail swaying as she reached for the refrigerator. She opened it and pulled out a bottle of water, the cold fog curling around her fingers.

She twisted the cap open and tilted her head back as she took a long gulp the chill shooting down her throat as she swallowed. She still felt him watching her.

Callan stared as the movement of her throat, remembering that her neck was her erogenous zone. He recalled how he had kissed her neck.

Seeing the direction of his thoughts, he looked away quickly, his heart racing as he cleared his throat.

"Are you okay?" he asked finally, finding his voice.

Emily wiped her lips with the back of her hand and turned to him, her smile bright. "Me? Perfectly fine."

Callan blinked, his brow slightly creased, as though trying to make sense of her strange cheerfulness.

Her smile unsettled him more than her tears had. She wasn’t fine. He knew her well enough to know that much.

She headed for the door, water bottle still in hand, but before she could make it past the doorway, his voice stopped her.

"Emily."

She turned halfway, not meeting his gaze fully.

"Do you want to talk about last night?"

Now he wanted to talk? Callan Quinn actually wanted to talk to her? Wasn’t he the type to always run or avoid conversations that made him uncomfortable?

Her lips curved, small and careful. "I don’t think there is any need for that," she said lightly. "It was childish of me to bring up the past. I overreacted, and I’m sorry. I hope we can just... get along. At least for the time I’m here. You don’t have to go stay in a hotel. It’s your house. Feel free to do whatever you please."

Something unreadable flickered across his face before he could respond, she walked away, her bare feet moving softly down the hall, leaving Callan standing there with his coffee untouched, his frown deepening.

Something wasn’t right. Not at all. What was she up to? Callan wondered.

Inside her bedroom, Emily hummed cheerfully as she prepared for the day. It felt good being the one acting like nothing had happened now.

She was just going to treat Callan like he always treated her going forward. She was going to match him energy for energy.

After a long shower and a change into a red, black and white striped jumpsuit, Emily sat in the living room, her legs crossed, flipping through the resident’s brochure on her phone.

She had braided the front of her hair into two thin twists and left the rest cascading down her shoulders. Her lips were glossed, her earrings dainty.

Her plan was simple: get a makeover, show up to the welcome party looking radiant. If she was going to move on actively and meet someone, she needed to dress up and look the part.

Callan appeared in the hallway, dressed in a crisp black shirt tucked into slate trousers, his watch gleaming faintly beneath his cuff. He paused when he saw her waiting.

"Are you going somewhere?" he asked.

"Yes," Emily stood up, smiling at him. "Could you give me a ride to the spa? I need a little pre-party makeover."

His brow lifted slightly in surprise. "A spa?"

When did she start caring about her looks to want a pre-party makeover? The Emily he knew never bothered with such things unless Mari forced her to do it.

"Yes. I want to look my best tonight." She grabbed her handbag from the side table. "So?"

He gave a little nod. "Sure. I’ll drop you off. I know a great place."

"Thanks, cuz," she said with a wide smile as she followed him out of the house.

They didn’t speak much as they drove through the quiet streets of Husla. While Callan was wondering what was going on with her and why she was acting out of character, Emily sat by the passenger window, her earbuds plugged in, and her face turned toward the world passing by.

The music in her ears was soft and melodic from her calm playlist.

Then, her phone lit up with a call. An unsaved number. Curious, she tapped on her earbud and accepted the call.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Dr Emily?" A pleasant male voice asked.

She raised a brow. "Yes... who’s this?"

"It’s Dan. Dr Dan."

Her eyes widened slightly. "Dr Dan Coleman?"

"Yeah. Sorry to call out of the blue. I got your number from the resident brochure. I hope that’s okay?"

"Uh... yeah, it’s fine." She shot a side glance at Callan, whose jaw had tightened just a fraction at the mention of the touchy guy’s name.

"I wanted to ask... about the party tonight, would you like me to escort you to the welcome party tonight? I mean, I want to. I would love to go with you if you don’t mind," he said, sounding nervous.

Emily was silent for half a second, then smiled. "That would be great, actually. Thanks for asking."

"So... you’ll text me your address?"

"Sure. Pick me up at seven?"

"Perfect. Looking forward to it."

When the call ended, she turned to Callan, unplugging the earbud.

"I hope you don’t mind," she said casually. "I will be giving your address to Dan. He’s going to drive me to the party."

Callan’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel slightly. "I can drive you there myself. I will be..."

"There’s no need," she cut in sweetly. "I’d like to go with Dan."

Callan gave a stiff nod. "Okay."

When they arrived at the spa, Emily reached for the door. "Thanks for the ride, cuz."

"You’re welcome," Callan muttered.

She stepped out, closing the door behind her without another glance, and a muscle twitched in Callan’s jaw as he watched her go.