I break off and sigh, and these two yahoos just grin. Damn it.
“So, which was it?” Ben asks.
“And I thought you said you told her you were taking her to dinner?” Beau adds.
“I did. I bought her stadium food.” I walk over and punch the punching bag. “She likes football.”
God, why do I sound so defensive?
“Okay.” Ben nods. “And she was so impressed by your season tickets and popcorn that she begged you to fuck her?”
“It wasn’t that stupid. Or disgusting.” My voice is hard now, and I’m starting to get pissed. I know that in the past I would have laughed with them, and we would have moved on to another topic, but this time it grates. And I’m not sure why. I mean, Callie is a beautiful woman. I set my sights on her, took her out and tumbled her around in my bed.
No harm, no foul. Pretty much the standard operating procedure for me.
“You like her,” Ben says quietly while Beau busts up laughing.
“Of course I like her. I wouldn’t have slept with her if I didn’t like her,” I reply.
“No, you really like her.”
“You sound like a sixteen-year-old girl,” I reply and punch the bag again.
“So, she really was just a quick lay.” Beau nods, wiping his arm over his sweaty forehead.
“I didn’t say that,” I reply, again cursing myself for my fucking mouth. Why can’t I just shut up? Or change the subject?
Ben and Beau simply stand, arms crossed and watch me.
“Shouldn’t you be beating each other up?” I ask.
“This is more interesting,” Beau says.
“Why?”
“Because you’re not the one to get a crush. You enjoy women, you’re good to them, then you move on.”
“Who says I’m not moving on?” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, my stomach rolls. I don’t want to move on. I don’t have Callie out of my system yet. Not by a long shot.
“Have you already told her you’ll be taking her to the zoo?” Ben asks with a smirk.
“No, asshole. We didn’t make plans.”
“So what is the score?” Beau asks. “Are you going to actually pursue a woman?”
I frown. “Why do I have to decide this right now? I had a good time last night. I dropped her off thirty minutes ago. It’s a little soon to go shopping for china patterns.”
“You didn’t even say ‘I’ll call you’?” Ben asks.
“No. We both said we had fun and she went inside and I came here.”
“Maybe she doesn’t want to see him again,” Beau says to Ben, who nods while rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
“Could be.”
“I’m standing right here,” I remind them through clenched teeth. “Maybe it’s still really early, and we’re just enjoying each other and you all are over-thinking it.”
“I think you’re under-thinking it,” Beau replies. “She’s a woman and she had sex with you. She’s going to want some attention from you.”
“I’ll give her attention.” Jesus, what does he think I am, an asshole?
On second thought, yeah, he probably does.
“Doesn’t mean I have to text or call her every five minutes all day.”
“Look, if she’s what you want, good luck with her.” Ben claps his hand on my shoulder. “It’s going to be fun to watch you navigate this, especially since you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing.”
“I’ve had girlfriends,” I protest, but they just laugh. “I have.”
“A fuck buddy is not a girlfriend,” Ben says. “But if you want Callie to be a regular booty call, nothing wrong with that either.”
I definitely want her to be a booty call. I’d like to spend as much time between her long, slender legs as I possibly can.
But I don’t think that’s all I want, and it’s confusing the fuck out of me. I don’t do strings. And then it occurs to me: I didn’t have the you know this is just a fun time conversation with her so she knew the score beforehand, the way I always do. Why didn’t I do that?
“I’ll figure it out.”
“Gonna be fun to watch,” Ben says again, right before he surprises Beau with a body slam to the ground.
I have a feeling I’m in way over my head.
***
After my night with Callie, the week took a serious nose-dive into the pit of hell. I’ve been down with food poisoning—I’m pretty sure it wasn’t the flu—and still had to perform every night this week. So I basically spent every minute not performing wishing I was dead in bed. Now that the weather is starting to cool down from Satan’s neighborhood to just normal warm, tourist season is ramping up again, and with that comes gigs. I am fortunate to not have to play every night to make ends meet, but I love it. The music, the audience, all of it. And I refuse to cancel a gig with only a few hours' notice.
I’m finally beginning to feel human again as I walk into The Odyssey Friday night for my gig. There is a decent crowd already enjoying drinks and the small but delicious bar menu offered. My eyes skim the room, looking for a certain tall blonde. I haven’t seen or spoken to her since Tuesday morning, and I need to get an eyeful.
Maybe even a handful.
Adam waves from behind the bar as I make my way through the tables.
“How’s it going?” I ask.
“It’s busy, so it’s good,” he says with a grin. “You look like shit.”
“And here I thought I covered it up before I left the house.” I scrub my hand over my face and sigh. “It’s been a hell of a week.”
“I don’t think it’s going to get better in the very near future,” he warns me then gestures for me to turn around. Callie, draped in a killer red dress with matching red lips and black heels is marching across the room. She’s stunning.
And her amazing blue eyes are… cold.
“Adam, can you help me get some cases of Corona in the elevator so I can stock the bar upstairs?”
“Sure.”
“Hey,” I say and slip my hand on her waist, but she backs away and cocks a brow.
“Declan.”
“How are you, Callie?”
“Busy.” The fun, sweet woman from Monday night is nowhere to be found, and I’m smart enough to know that it’s my own fault.
“I think we need to talk.”
“I’m working.” Her tone is calm and nothing but professional, her face passive, and yet I get the distinct feeling she’s telepathically telling me to go fuck myself.
Callie marches back across the room and up the stairs just as Adam returns from the elevator.
“I think I screwed up,” I mutter with a sigh.
“Probably a safe bet,” Adam says, with way too much joy in his voice.
“Fuck.” I stalk toward the stairs and climb them, eyes scanning the rooftop for Callie. They haven’t opened the roof yet, so it’s deserted. Her blond head pops up behind the bar where she’s currently stocking beer. “Can I help with that?”
“This isn’t in your job description,” she says without looking over at me. She’s pissed.
Really pissed.
“We need to talk,” I say again.
“I’m. Working.”
“Look, let’s do this now, while we’re alone.”
“Fine. Let’s do this.” She stands and props her hands on her hips, and my eyes immediately zero in on her tits, and the lust is a million times worse than it was before. Now I know what they look like under that dress. I know how she gasps when I tease the tips with my teeth. “My eyes are up here, Declan.”
“I’m aware,” I reply lazily without looking up.
“You’re an ass.”
My eyes find hers now, and I see that she’s not just pissed. She’s hurt.
“Talk to me, sugar.”
“You don’t get to call me sugar, or baby, or darlin’,” she says, mimicking my accent.
“Okay. What’s wrong, Callie?”
“Look.” She sighs deeply and rubs her forehead with her fingertips. “I get that I probably misunderstood the signals on Monday. I’m a big girl, and I can take responsibility for my own actions. I enjoyed myself.”
“I did too. I’m glad we’re on the same page—”