"That's not true," he interjected as Van mentioned never sleeping well on a plane. "That flight we took to Australia when Hunger Games was premiering, you slept like a baby the entire time. I had a drool mark on my sleeve." Callum tossed her a wink, knowing she wouldn't mind the reminder. In fact, she would probably appreciate the amusement. Callum knew he certainly liked thinking about that flight. Any memory he had with Van was a good one, actually, but he liked to think that maybe she slept better on planes when he was there. As stupid as that was.
As she settled on the couch, he rolled his eyes at her words, though his cheeks reddened at the praise. "I think you might need some glasses," he returned, trying to keep his grin playful despite how uncomfortable he was with the praise. It was an odd emotion actually since he was a little pleased that Van seemed to find him so attractive, but he didn't really see himself that way. Raising an eyebrow at her as she described the newstands, he tried to wave off her predication. They both knew what had happened after the first Hunger Games. Every girl in the world collectively lost their minds, going on and on about how hot he was all the time. Buying up every magazine they could and scouring the internet for stories. "The photographer is going to send me some of the outtakes before he puts it all together. I can show you so you know how ridiculous that assessment is," he offered with another shake of his head. There was a small smile on Callum's face despite his obvious discomfort that hinted at that tiny bit of pride, though he was all too happy for the change in subject. Especially since he'd just remembered that he didn't have a shirt on.
"I have snacks in this basket they left in my room," he said, pointing at a basket on the table overflowing with candy and crackers and cookies. "And drinks in the mini bar." He stopped next to the bar and held up a booklet. "And this wonderful snack service called 'room service'" Callum grinned at her as he wiggled the menu, though was almost immediately distracted by her suggestion that he forget about the shirt. That redness moved over his face again, and he set the menu down in an attempt to cover up how flustered he was by doing something with his hands.
"I mean, you're not wrong," he remarked, recalling the sex scene that he wasn't sure if she knew about yet. "But won't you think it's weird if I'm sitting here shirtless and you're dressed?"