FYI: I Outpitched You

FYI: I Outpitched You
Chapter Ten

By Wednesday, Beacon & Wren’s shared calendar looked like a war zone of meetings, shoots, and Slack reminders. Callie stood at the whiteboard sketching out a tentative content timeline while Peyton updated their team group chat with emoji-based threat levels for FLAMEBOYEEE.

“He just DM’d me a sketch of himself riding a flaming VitaRush can into battle,” Peyton muttered. “It’s… actually kind of majestic?”

Callie didn’t look up. “That’s the third time this week he’s used pyrotechnics in concept art. Tell him to lose the smoke machine.”

“Too late,” Josh said, coming in with two iced matcha lattes. “He ordered it. It’s en route. Express shipping.”

Callie dropped the marker. “He’s going to set something on fire.”

“Again,” Peyton added.

\---

Meanwhile, at Catalyst Media, Miles paced in front of a prop fridge as Nico and Zenvy tested lighting for their collab shoot. Elise watched from the sidelines, arms crossed.

“This campaign is supposed to be clean and vibrant,” Miles said, adjusting the brightness on the tablet screen. “Not… whatever this is.”

Nico flexed in the background, holding a VitaRush can over his head. “I’m giving elevated thirst trap.”

Zenvy sighed. “And I’m giving why is he here.”

“Let’s do the lake shot tomorrow instead,” Miles said. “We’ll pivot to ‘outdoorsy wellness’ and hope the can doesn’t explode in the sun.”

\---

Thursday morning, chaos struck.

Callie was prepping her rooftop shoot with Sasha when FLAMEBOYEEE arrived an hour early—shirtless, drenched in orange glitter, and live on TikTok.

“I’M HERE, BAYBEEEE! FLAMEBOYEEE NATION STAND UP!”

Sasha blinked behind her sunglasses. “Who invited him?”

Callie stepped in, phone still at her ear. “Security?”

By the time the shoot wrapped, Callie was sticky with glitter and a migraine. Peyton handed her a cold towel and a protein bar.

“I’m getting too old for this,” Callie muttered.

“You’re thirty,” Peyton said.

“Exactly.”

\---

Friday night arrived like a dare.

Callie stood outside the restaurant in heels that made her question her entire personality. The dress was Lana-approved, the lipstick a strategic red. Roman pulled up in a sleek black car and opened the door for her like a scene from a rom-com.

“You look stunning,” he said, offering his arm.

“You clean up nice,” she replied, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow.

The hostess smiled. “You’re here for the Thatcher party, right?”

Callie blinked. “Thatcher?”

Roman grinned. “Yeah… forgot to mention. My stepbrother’s rehearsal dinner. Super low-key.”

She froze. “Wait—your stepbrother is—”

“Miles.”

Her feet nearly locked in place, but Roman guided her inside before she could recover.

The sleek private room shimmered with warm lighting, flickering candles, and laughter. And right there, at the far end of the table—Miles.

His jaw actually dropped.

Callie’s mind spun. Champagne was already being poured when she leaned toward Roman and asked quietly, “Did you know I knew him?”

Roman sipped. “I figured. Eventually. Didn’t know how deep it went.”

“And I didn’t know about you. Miles and I were close freshman year. He never mentioned having a stepbrother.”

Roman shrugged. “He wouldn’t have. I came into the picture after his senior year of high school. We barely knew each other by the time he left for college. We didn’t really bond until that summer.”

Callie nodded slowly, then took a gulp of champagne. Her stomach fluttered with unease. Why her? Why this connection?

She glanced around the table for an escape route.

The bride and groom were making rounds, greeting guests table by table. When they reached Callie’s table, Cal did a double take. His expression lit up. “Callie? Wow, it’s been forever.”

She smiled, remembering him vaguely from sophomore year. He gave her a warm hug and introduced his fiancée before moving on. The moment they left, she scanned the room again—any excuse to slip out.

But the DJ’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“And now, our lucky couple selected at random to open the dance floor—Callie Rhodes and Miles Thatcher!”

Callie froze. A spotlight hit her, then moved to Miles. Her pulse hammered.

Miles rose slowly, eyes never leaving hers. He extended a hand.

“Dance with me?”

She took it.

The room quieted, melting away as they found the center of the floor. Her hands rested on his shoulders. His slid to her waist.

Her heart galloped. Her palms were sweaty. She looked up into his eyes and felt their kiss again—the one from freshman year that had never left her memory.

“I didn’t know he was your stepbrother,” she whispered.

“I believe you.” He pulled her in a little closer. He still smelled like cedar and spice. Always the same cologne.

“What are you thinking?” he asked softly.

“That you still smell the same,” she admitted.

He smiled, slow and amused. Something deeper flickered in his eyes.

As the music played, other couples joined them. But in her mind, they were alone.

“I’ve never stopped thinking about you, Callie.”

Her breath hitched. His grip tightened, just slightly.

“I don’t know what I did to make everything fall apart. I know this isn’t the time or place, but having you in my arms again… it feels like freshman year. I’m sorry if I hurt you. Please believe me—I didn’t know.”

Her throat tightened. Her voice shook. “She never told you?”

“Who?”

“Your ex. She never told you what she did?”

His brow furrowed. She hesitated, then spoke.

“The night before our final presentations… she came to my apartment. Accused me of being the other woman. Said you were cheating on her with me. She lost it. Locked me in the closet. Lana had to help me get out. My storyboards were gone. The ones you used the next day. I thought… I thought you were in on it.”

Miles stopped dancing. Stared at her.

“She told me they were a backup idea. Said she didn’t like them. I had no idea.”

“We weren’t together senior year,” he added. “I broke up with her the summer after freshman year.” He shook his head. “Callie, I wanted you. I would’ve never—”

Before he could finish, a light tap interrupted them.

Roman.

“May I have this dance?”

Callie blinked. Her throat burned. She swallowed the lump and forced a smile. “Of course.”

She took Roman’s hand and let him lead her away.

But her mind stayed behind—with Miles. And the version of her past she’d finally begun to unravel.