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—”
“I just wish,” she continues, interrupting me, “that you had made it clear from the beginning exactly what the score was, because I wouldn’t have been as open with you about my family as I was. I dropped my guard with you, and since then you made it clear exactly what I am to you. At first, when I didn’t hear from you at all, I felt a little cheap, a little used, but then I just felt… stupid. And I’m not a stupid woman.”
“I never said you—”
“So I appreciate that you find me attractive, and the chemistry is pretty great, but I’m not looking for a fuck buddy. And you know what?”
God, I wish she’d slow down for two seconds so I can get a word in edgewise.
“What?”
“I also realized that I’m not looking for anything from you, Declan Boudreaux.”
“Callie, I admit, in the past I’ve not been great at understanding women, or even taking the time to try to. There are reasons for why I didn’t call this week—”
“I don’t want your reasons,” she interrupts, still calm. “I don’t want anything from you, except for you to do your job when you’re in my place.”
She turns to walk away, and it feels like I’m burning from the inside out.
“Callie, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It was a shitty week.”
She glances over her shoulder at me and smirks. “That’s one way to describe it.”
And without another word, she goes back to stocking the beer, making it clear that I’m no longer welcome here, so I walk back downstairs to the bar where Adam is flirting with a group of women, mid-twenties, obviously out on the town for a bachelorette party, due to the sash and tiara on one of the girls.
When he sees me, he winces. “Doesn’t look like it went well.”
“I couldn’t get a word in edgewise,” I reply, feeling shell-shocked.
Adam just shrugs and shakes his head, looking at me like I’m the biggest idiot on the planet.
The worst part is, he’s right.
Chapter Four
~Callie~
He has his reasons for not calling. I just bet he does. Probably a woman. Or work. Or family. But nothing, nothing makes a person too busy to just send a simple text to say hi, or hope you’re well, or kiss my ass.
Anything.
Instead, I've spent the past four days with my phone permanently attached to my body in the hopes that Declan would call, only making me feel like a complete, embarrassed idiot as each day passed.
Beer bottles clink against each other as I slam the cooler door closed, making me wince.
I like him. The second I saw him downstairs, my nipples puckered and the sound of his voice as he groaned while coming the other night were front-row, center in my brain, which only pissed me off more.
I’m reliving some of the best sex I’ve ever had, and he couldn’t even be bothered to send me a simple text this week.
The thing is, he was nice, and apologetic, and he should be, but if I just smile and say it’s okay, he’ll think that the behavior is okay.
And it’s not.
I wipe down the bar one last time, satisfied that the rooftop is clean and ready for business tonight, then walk back downstairs to help Adam man the bar. Our third bartender will arrive in about an hour, and I’ll send her upstairs.
I may not want to date him, but I’m not going to pass up the chance to watch Declan play. Masochistic? Probably, but I can’t help it.
“Did you tell him to fuck off?” Adam asks as he pours a beer and I join him.
“I’m not talking about this here.”
“He looked like you told him to fuck off,” he continues, completely ignoring my statement. “But, in my defense, I warned you, Cal.”
“Shut up,” I reply and walk to the other end of the bar, smile at a customer, and focus on what I do best, work. “What can I get you?”
“Gin and tonic,” the girl replies and flashes me her ID. I turn to fill her order, my eyes skimming the room, looking for Declan. He should be on stage in a few minutes. I find him standing at a table, laughing. I don’t recognize the two women he’s talking to, but his hand is resting on the small of the slender brunette’s back, and the other brunette, more petite than the first, is laughing and gazing at Declan like he’s the best thing since the invention of the cosmopolitan she’s sipping.
Tramps.
I shake my head and continue to serve drinks. The thing is, those girls don’t look like tramps. They look like people I would like.
And maybe that’s what pisses me off the most.
“What’ll you have?” I ask a tall, light brown-haired guy standing with his head turned the other way. When he looks at me, my eyes widen and I feel myself smile. “Pete?”
“Callie? Holy shit, I didn’t realize you were home!”
I run around the bar and hug Pete tight, then walk back around and grin. “What’ll it be? On the house.”