Easy Melody Page 16

  “That’s what I thought, man.” I clap him on the back and motion to the bartender, who’s smiling at me with bonafide heart eyes, for another beer.

  “I think we’ve all thought that at some point,” Eli adds with a shrug. “And then you meet the person that turns your life upside down, and you can’t remember why you thought that way in the first place.”

  My brother is one smart bastard.

  “Not me, man,” Adam insists, less forcefully now. “I’m out of here. Y’all are too mushy for me.”

  “We’re not mushy,” Ben says with a frown. “We’re respectful.”

  “Hey, I respect women,” Adam says. “They’re the strongest creatures on this earth. I just don’t intend to have to choose among the three billion of them on Earth to be with forever. There are too many to enjoy.”

  Adam waves and leaves, and the five of us grow quiet for a moment. “I like my choice,” Rhys says honestly. “And I have no problem choosing her every day, for the rest of my life.”

  It’s the best choice there is, and Callie is my only choice.

  ***

  I never nap. It’s not productive, and when I wake up, I’m grouchy as fuck and disoriented, but I fell asleep on the sofa in the music room the next day. My ringing phone wakes me, and I fumble it as I push myself into a sitting position.

  “’Lo,” I say, not even checking the caller ID before answering.

  “Holy shit, you’re actually answering,” the woman on the other end exclaims, making me wince.

  Should have checked the fucking caller ID.

  “Hi, Beth,” I mumble and rub my hand over my face. “What’s up?”

  “Don’t try to pretend that you haven’t been dodging me for the past two months. I’ve sent texts almost every day, and I’ve called at least twice a week.”

  I know, and it annoys the shit out of me.

  “Well, you caught me now. I only have a minute,” I lie and settle in for the tongue lashing I’m sure to get.

  “I guess you don’t have some woman sitting next to you right now,” Beth says, her voice dripping with censure. “If you did, you’d be ignoring me again.”

  “Is there a point to this call?” I finally ask.

  “I haven’t seen you in three months, Declan. That’s not okay. I know you’re busy with gigs, and probably with a whole harem of women, but a lot has happened. I have important news. You won’t like it, but you need to hear it from me. In person.”

  I sigh and shake my head. Beth’s always been overly dramatic. “I honestly don’t have time to meet up with you, Beth. Can’t you just tell me over the phone?”

  “I need one hour of your time, Declan Boudreaux, and I’m not hanging up until you agree to give it to me.”

  She’s also like a pit bull when she sets her teeth in. Knowing this is a losing battle, and seeing that I really do have to meet up with Callie in less than an hour, I cave.

  “Fine. I have Wednesday night off. I’ll meet you for drinks.”

  “Dinner,” she insists. “Come on, you know you miss me.”

  Right. Like I miss the flu.

  I laugh in frustration, pacing the room now. “Fine. Dinner. But you only get one hour, Beth, and then I walk away.”

  “Fine.” Her voice is smug and I can just picture the smile on her medically-enhanced lips. “I want to go somewhere good.”

  “You’re pushing it. I’ll text you Wednesday to confirm.”

  “You better, Declan. No more dodging me. You can put the flavor of the week on hold for one hour.”

  “That’s enough, Beth.” My voice is cold and hard. “I said I’d meet you, and I will. If you keep insulting me, I’ll simply tell you to go to hell.”

  “Right.” She laughs, setting my teeth on edge. “You’d never tell me to go to hell, Declan. You love to hate me too much.”

  “The hate part is close enough. Goodbye, Beth.”

  I want to punch a wall. Few things make me truly angry in this world, but Beth is right at the top of the list. Knowing I need a half hour in the gym, punching the fuck out of a bag to relieve some of this energy before I see Callie, I shoot her a text.

  Hey babe, gonna be a little late.

  A few moments later she replies.

  No problem. See you soon.

  Just seeing those five words from her helps to calm me. I grab my gym bag and lock up, then jog out to my car.

  Some time with the punching bag is still in order. Better yet, maybe Eli will spar with me. Kicking someone’s ass always feels better than the punching bag.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ~Callie~

  I’m scrubbing the kitchen floor on my hands and knees, like a woman on the edge. Because I am a woman on the edge, and that just pisses me off. And what do I do when I’m pissed off?

  I clean.

  Because I’m a normal, red-blooded American woman, and that’s what we do. The same way we go all soft over babies and cry during Hallmark movies and enjoy flowers. And sometimes we say I love you during the sweetest, most intimate sex ever.

  I cringe and sit back on my heels as I dunk my rag in the bucket of warm soapy water. I can’t believe I did that! I mean, it wasn’t entirely my fault. I was half asleep, and it was so good and the words just slipped out. I didn’t even remember or realize I said it until this morning when I woke up, but then it hit me: he didn’t say it back.

  It’s embarrassing. And I have to see him in a little bit and try to act like everything’s normal, when it definitely isn’t.

  Just as I’m calling myself every kind of moron in the book, my phone pings with a text from Dec. Hey babe, gonna be a little late.

  Great. We’ll just prolong the misery. The bathroom needs a good scrubbing.

  I quickly text him back and am glaring at the backsplash behind the stove, wondering how in the bloody hell the marinara sauce ended up on the tile—doesn’t Adam use a lid when he cooks?—when the man himself comes sauntering through the front door, a smile on his handsome face. He stops cold when he sees me.

  “Uh oh,” he says.

  “What?” I snap, still frowning at the tile. Why is dried tomato sauce so hard to get off?

  “You’re mad.”

  “I’m cleaning,” I reply.

  “Which means you’re mad.”

  I shrug, still not looking at him.

  “Wanna talk about it?” he asks.

  “No,” I reply immediately, then quit scrubbing and spin around to face Adam. “I don’t get men.”

  “So you do want to talk about it.”

  “I mean, I guess it’s not really his fault, and if he’s not in the same place I am, it’s okay, but damn it, I’m embarrassed that pisses me off more than anything.”

  “Back up,” Adam says, shaking his head while he takes a seat at the breakfast bar. “What happened?”

  I twist my rag in my hands and frown. “Did you hear the part where I said I’m embarrassed?”

  “You can tell me. It can’t be that bad.”

  “I said I love you and he didn’t say it back.”

  Adam’s eyes get big, then he clears his throat. “Wow, you said the L word?”

  “Yeah.” I drop the rag in the bucket, then lean on the counter and bury my face in my hands. “I’m so dumb.”

  “You’re not dumb,” he says. “How did you say it?”

  “While we were having sex,” I mumble into my hands. “Jesus, he must think I’m an idiot.”

  “You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about,” Adam says, confidence in his voice.

  “I don’t?” I look up from my hands and he’s smiling. “Why?”

  “If you said it during sex, it doesn’t count.” He smiles proudly, but I just stare at him, frowning in confusion.

  “Is that guy logic?”

  “You were in the moment, Callie. Maybe you said, Oh, I love that, or something. Maybe he didn’t hear you.”

  “That’s stupid,” I announce and begin pacing around the kitchen. “I
didn’t really mean to let it slip out, but I was still half asleep, and he was going down on me, and he’s so good at that, and I couldn’t help it. But he didn’t say it back, and now he has to think I’m stupid. Or, I’ve freaked him out.”

  My phone buzzes with another text from Declan.

  Sorry to do this, but something came up. Been a rough day. I’ll definitely be there to walk you to your car after work. Sorry babe.

  “See!” I show Declan the text, knowing that I sound like a crazy woman, and not caring. “He’s blowing me off. He’s never blown me off before. I’ve made everything weird.”

  I don’t bother to respond to Declan. I just toss my phone on the counter and grab a rag to feverishly scrub down the cabinets.

  “You’re a pig, by the way. This kitchen is disgusting.”

  “I don’t cook in it,” he replies, smiling at me. “The girls I bring home sometimes do.”

  “Well, they’re pigs then. And why are you grinning at me?”

  “Because you make me smile.”

  I frown, leaning on the broom handle. “Why are you so calm? What do you know?”

  He shakes his head. “Nothing. I just think you’re overreacting.”

  “If you told a girl that you loved her—” He scoffs, but I ignore him and keep going. “And she didn’t say it back, didn’t say anything back, are you telling me that you wouldn’t feel like a jackass?”

  “Look, all I’m saying is, maybe he didn’t hear you. Or, maybe it really just has been a bad day. There could be a million reasons why he had to cancel on you today. I mean, why do women always assume the worst?”

  “Because we think about stuff,” I reply, as if he’s being an idiot. “This is important, Adam.”

  “I get it.” He holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying, you’re over thinking it, and this is exactly the reason that I don’t get involved with only one woman.”

  “No, you get involved with every woman in the United States and hurt everyone’s feelings,” I snap, and then feel bad.

  “Hey, they know the score,” Adam says in his own defense.

  “Sorry.” My voice is soft, and now I’m pissed because I’m on the verge of tears. “I just didn’t want to make it weird. Maybe he’s just not in the same place as me, and that’s okay.”

  “I’m going to tell you a secret about men, and you can’t tell anyone I told you because if you do, I could lose my man card. Men really aren’t that deep. We generally say what we mean, so when he said it’s been a tough day and something came up, that’s probably the truth. And if he didn’t say it back, he either didn’t hear you, or he thought you were talking about the sex. Or his mouth was busy.” He’s ticking items off on his fingers, his eyes pointed at the ceiling while he thinks.

  “But you don’t think I made it weird.”

  “I don’t think so, no.”

  “Okay.” I take a deep breath and tighten my pony tail. “You just saved me from having to clean the bathroom.”

  “I wouldn’t be mad if you cleaned it anyway.”

  “You should clean it,” I reply and prop my hands on my hips.

  “I don’t do bathrooms.”

  “You need a maid.”

  “I have you,” he says and smirks, knowing that I’ll beat the shit out of him for that remark. “I’ll just nudge Declan into pissing you off more often.”

  “You are a jackass.”

  “Yep.” He grins and walks toward his bedroom. “I’m gonna take a nap before work.”

  “Okay.” He disappears and I empty the bucket, then put the cleaning supplies away and go to my own bedroom. A nap before work doesn’t sound too bad. Since I don’t get to see Declan this afternoon, I have time for one.

  I lie down and sigh. Maybe Adam’s right and I’m just overreacting. Maybe he didn’t hear me. Did I whisper it? I try to remember, but all I know is that he was making me see stars with that amazing tongue of his.

  It’ll be okay. I’ll see him tonight, and follow him home after he walks me to my car the way I always do, and things will go back to normal.

  I hope.

  ***

  It’s been a slow night at work. Weeknights usually are this time of year anyway. It’s hurricane season, and the weather is less predictable, so the tourist crowds slow down. We’ll get another rush around Christmas time, so for now we really depend on the weekends to get us through.

  But that means that during the week I have too much time to think. I usually plan drink specials, but I’m eager to see Declan.

  “Stop it,” Adam murmurs as he passes me on his way to the beer tap. “You’re doing the girl over-thinking thing.”

  “I am not,” I lie and elbow him in the ribs. “You are not a mind reader, you know.”

  “When it comes to women I am,” he says and wiggles his eyebrows.

  “Ew.” I shiver. “TMI.”

  Finally, the night comes to a close, but Declan hasn’t shown up. He usually gets here about a half hour before closing, but he’s not around when Adam leaves out the back, locking up on his way, and I go through the front.

  I lock the door and turn to walk to my car and about jump out of my skin when I see Dec leaning against the building, the way he used to when we first reopened.

  “You scared me!”

  “Sorry,” he says with a grin. “I just got here, figured I’d wait outside.”

  “You’re like a ninja.” I turn on the sidewalk and he falls into step beside me, but he doesn’t take my hand like he usually would. “So you had a bad day?”

  “Yeah.” He nods, but doesn’t explain further, and we fall into an uneasy silence. He seems distracted.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  “Fine.”

  I nod, the knot in my gut growing. I did screw up. I knew it. I hate this new tension. It’s never been here before, not once, even when we tried to do the just friends thing before, and the thought of that makes me nauseous, because if he suggests we go back to being friends, I won’t be able to do it. Not with Declan.

  I’m just too in love with him.

  Not touching him is killing me. Finally, unable to stand the silence any more, I blurt, “I cleaned today.”

  I cleaned today? That’s the best I can come up with? But he looks down at me, truly looking me in the eyes for the first time tonight, and smiles softly. He grabs my hand and squeezes three times as he says, “You’re so sweet.”

  And for that second, my world is right again.

  But he lets go and looks away, and we’re right back where we were.

  I’m so damn confused!

  Finally, we reach my car. I just want to get back to his place so we can make love and I can ask him what’s really wrong. I want to talk this out, and make it better. I need to make it better.

  I need him.

  When I reach for the handle of the door, he leans in and brushes his lips over the edge of my mouth and backs away. He doesn’t kiss the hell out of me, or threaten to fuck me right here for the whole French Quarter to see the way he usually does.

  He just backs away, and without meeting my eyes, says, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Oh. So I’m not invited back to his house.

  Thrown, and at a loss, I just nod and get in the car, and without looking back, I pull away, driving blindly while tears form in my eyes. What in the ever loving hell just happened? He brushed me off, that’s for sure, but was he brushing me off for good?

  Who was that?

  Because it certainly wasn’t the man I know and have grown to love.

  It’s a good thing it’s the middle of the night, and that traffic is pretty much non-existent because I’m not sure how I get back to Adam’s. I’m on autopilot as I park and drag myself into the condo, which is dark and empty. Adam must have gone to someone else’s place, which suits me just fine. The last thing I need tonight is to hear him fucking some girl in the next room.

  This way I can have a temper tantrum in peace.

&nb
sp; I drop my bag on the couch, kick my shoes off, and take my clothes off, dropping them as I walk into my bedroom. I don’t give a shit that I’ve just left a path of clothes from the living room to my room.

  I’ll pick them up eventually.

  I fall into my bed, pull the covers up to my chin, turn on my side and let the tears come. I’ve screwed everything up. Declan is so uncomfortable around me that he can’t even look at me, let alone touch me. He doesn’t want me around tonight, and I always go back to his place after work.

  I’ve stayed in this room maybe a half a dozen nights since I started seeing Declan. So the fact that the tension was so thick I could cut it with a knife, and he doesn’t want me at his house, says that this is pretty much over between us.

  And, oh, how it hurts.

  My whole body aches as I cry it out, and when I’ve shed all the tears I have inside me, I start to get a little mad.

  Or a lot mad.

  I’ve had to walk on eggshells around men my whole life. I refuse to do it now. If Declan can’t handle my feelings, that’s not my problem, and I can’t regret telling him that I love him, because I do. So much.

  I have to be true to myself. I deserve that, and damn it, I’m going to keep being honest with myself and everyone else in my life. I’m done pussyfooting around.

  So screw Declan and his weird mood and his brushing me off.

  I guess the bathroom is going to get scrubbed after all.

  I climb out of bed, throw on my ragged old sweats and a T-shirt, fill my trusty bucket and get to work on the bathroom.

  By the time Adam rolls through the door approximately three hours later, the rest of the condo shines.

  “You’re here,” he says in surprise. His eyelids are heavy, his clothes rumpled, and his hair a mess from someone’s fingers.

  “Nothing wrong with your eyes,” I reply, finally tired.

  “And judging by the smell and look of the place, last night didn’t go well, huh?”

  I sigh and shake my head, rinsing out the bucket. “No, it didn’t.”

  “Wanna talk about it?” he asks with a yawn. He scratches his chest.

  “No. I really don’t, Adam. But thanks.”

  “Wanna snuggle?” he offers as he hugs me, but I can smell another woman on him, and although he isn’t mine, I still don’t like it.