Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Royal
Well, that was…unexpected.
I stare at the closed door for a long moment, but all I can see is the heat in Callie’s eyes before she panicked and ran out of here like the place was on fire. I didn’t imagine it. I know I didn’t. She walked in on me changing my shirt, and she liked what she saw.
And there’s no denying it––I like that she liked what she saw.
My brain immediately starts firing on overdrive, telling me I shouldn’t like it. I should ignore it, completely. Pretend it never happened. Hell, maybe it didn’t happen. Maybe I imagined it. Maybe Callie was just shocked and appalled at seeing me half-undressed, and I misread her expression.
Deep down, I know I didn’t misread anything, but I latch onto these possibilities because they’re safe. Because following the tracks that lead down this particular rabbit hole would be fucking dangerous . If I start thinking Callie finds me attractive, I’ll never be able to ignore how attractive I find her. How attractive I’ve always found her.
No. I need to keep a clear head. Callie and I are just starting to get along, and I’ve worked all day to solidify that so when we go back to work on Monday, it’ll be like a fresh start for us. We could really be the team we always should’ve been. And thinking about her in a carnal light, or worse, acting on those thoughts, would be catastrophic.
I take a few more minutes to finish getting ready, then I head out. As the elevator takes me down to the lobby, I wonder if Callie will even be there or if she took off after that weirdly charged moment in our room. I know the name of the bar, so I can make it there myself, but if she really did leave without me, I should probably take that as a sign and just go back to the room. The thought leaves a heaviness in my chest, but I know it would be the right thing to do.
I can take a hint. I really can.
It only takes me a second to find her as I step out of the elevator, and my chest lightens before puffing up. She waited. I walk over to the window and stop next to her, staring out at the same traffic-clogged street she’s been observing. My eyes flick up to her reflection, and I catch her staring at mine before she coughs and turns toward me.
“Hey. You ready?”
“Sure,” I say, then hold out an arm toward the lobby’s exit.
She nods and moves in that direction, and I lift a hand toward her lower back, stopping just before it makes contact. Gritting my teeth, I drop my arm back to my side and squeeze my hand into a fist. I can’t touch her like that, as innocent as it is. This is not a date, and our friendship is still in the early stages. It might spook her, and I’m not willing to take that chance.
God, I could use a drink. And so could Callie, if her stiff posture is any indication.
I quicken my steps as we near the door, reaching it first so I can hold it open for her. She gives me a shy nod of thanks as she passes through, then pauses outside until I fall in beside her. She tells me she knows where the bar is, then silence stretches between us for the rest of the trip. Thank God, it’s as close as Adam said, and the walk is a short one.
I pull open the bar’s door and hold it open for Callie. She gives me the same small nod as before as she steps into the dim interior. I can barely hear the chatter of patrons beneath the blaring music as I walk in behind her, and my left eye twitches as a woman who’s obviously had a few drinks already screeches out the chorus of a popular ballad from the late nineties.
Callie looks at me and jerks her head to the left, and my eyes scan that side of the bar. It only takes me a moment to spot Adam, Shannon, and Barb crowded around a large round table with a few more teachers I don’t recognize, and I look back at Callie and nod. She starts to move in their direction, and I reach out to clutch her arm to stop her. Her entire body tenses at the touch, and I jerk my hand away like she’d burned me.
Leaning in closer so she can hear me over the noise, I jerk a thumb toward the bar and ask, “What do you want to drink?”
The tension visibly drains out of her, and her lips turn up at the corners, her smile filled with relief. “Vodka soda with a twist, please. Make it a double.”
“You got it,” I say, and she nods before turning and striding toward the group.
I watch her until she reaches their table, then I head for the bar. I order Callie’s double and a beer for myself, then turn to survey the crowd while I wait. The place is hopping tonight. I had no idea people still enjoyed karaoke this much. My eyes find our group, then narrow a fraction as I spot Adam with his arm around Callie’s shoulders, his mouth close to her ear. She laughs at something he says, and my vision starts to turn green before I catch myself.
Nope. Not jealous. I can’t be.
Luckily for my own sanity, Adam instantly releases her and puts a decent amount of space between them. He smirks at Shannon, who balls up a napkin and chucks it at his head while Callie and the others continue to laugh. Barb shakes her head and hides her smile behind her glass.
Okay. So there was nothing romantic about the situation. Adam wasn’t hitting on Callie. He was teasing Shannon about something. That realization shouldn’t be such a relief, but I can’t deny that it is.
And now I’m beginning to realize just how fucked I am if I can’t get these burgeoning feelings for my coworker under control.
“That’ll be twenty-two, fifty.”
I turn back around to face the bartender, who’s placed my drink order on the bar between us. Pulling out my wallet while trying not to visibly react to how expensive these damn drinks are, I pluck out a credit card and pass it over to him, asking him to start a tab. He nods and stashes my card in the register, and I grab the two drinks and zigzag through the crowd toward Callie and the others.
Callie startles as I slide onto the stool next to her, so I offer her an apologetic smile as I set her drink in front of her. She swallows visibly, murmurs a thanks, and picks up her glass, draining it in one long drink. My eyes widen. Shocked and maybe even a little impressed, I flag down a waitress and ask for a second round to be put on my tab.
“Okay everyone,” Adam says, gaining our attention, “we’ll be drawing names for duets so no one has to sing by themselves. We’ll all sing two songs––one with the person you draw, and one with the person who draws you.”
Okay. So none of us are getting out of singing, apparently. I don’t mind. I’m not a shy person. I look over at Callie to make sure she’s okay with it, and she’s smiling as she digs her hand into the glass Adam holds toward her. Pulling out a slip of paper, she fists it and waits until everyone else has drawn.
We all unfold our slips, and I see mine has Adam’s name on it. I hold it up for him to see, and he grins and nods. When I look over at Callie, her cheeks are pink. I think maybe it’s the buzz of that double vodka soda she chugged catching up to her, then she slowly lifts her gaze to mine, and shows me her paper, which has my name scrawled across it.
I start to grin while her lips drop into a frown. She opens her mouth to say something, but the waitress materializes beside her and hands her the fresh drink, stopping whatever insult she was about to throw my way. I’m almost disappointed.
Thanking the waitress, she slurps down half the glass before pausing to take a breath.
“You might want to slow down a bit there,” I murmur just loud enough for her to hear me over the music.
“Don’t tell me what to do, your royal highness,” she says with a sneer.
A laugh bursts out of me, and her frown deepens as she realizes her intended insult didn’t quite hit the mark. She’s obviously buzzed already, and just like last night, a grumpy, drunk Callie is cute as hell.
One of the teachers I don’t know approaches Callie’s other side, showing her a slip of paper with her name on it. She smiles, and I fucking hate it. It’s a real smile. Filled with pleasure.
I look at the guy with a skeptical eye, and much to my disgust, I can find no flaws. He’s tall and well-built with dark hair and a clean-shaven face that shows off deep dimples when he smiles. His eyes sparkle as he chats with Callie, and I catch his gaze dropping to her mouth repeatedly.
I instantly hate him.
And no, hate is not too strong of a word.
I listen in as they decide to sing “Wait in the Truck” by Hardy and Lainey Wilson. My eyebrows shoot up at that. That’s a hard song. I’m impressed with Callie’s confidence in picking it.
Adam walks over, and after little debate, we decide to sing “Blame It on the Rain” by Milli Vanilli. It’s an oldie, but people know it, and the crowd will sing along with us. It’ll be fun.
As Adam and the dimpled douchebag leave to go put their songs in with the MC, I angle my body toward Callie. She sips her drink with a thoughtful expression, then her eyes widen before she meets my gaze.
“I know. We should do ‘Shallow’ by Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper.” When my head rears back, she cocks hers to the side and asks, “Don’t you know it?”
“I do,” I say slowly, then shake my head. “I just don’t think I’m good enough to actually sing it.”
“Neither am I,” she says with a shrug. “But who cares? It’s fun to sing.”
I watch her as she takes another long draught from her glass, her eyes locked on mine and filled with challenge. Okay. I see how it is. She’s daring me to puss out. Not happening, Calliope.
“All right. Let’s do it.”
Her eyes widen as her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. She didn’t expect me to agree. Or maybe she’s interpreting that last bit I said as an innuendo. It wasn’t meant that way, but hey, if it throws Callie a bit off-kilter, I’ll let her believe it was.
“I’ll go put our names in,” she says finally, then chugs the rest of her drink before sliding off her stool.
This is going to be fun.