Eighteen
eighteen
HOLD ON - GOOD CHARLOTTE
OWEN - DECEMBER 14, 2013
B lack N’ Gold is buzzing, the kind of Friday night energy that makes the place feel alive. Laughter and clinking glasses echo off the walls, and the smell of beer and wings hangs in the air. It’s been too long since I’ve had a night like this—just me and the guys, no responsibilities for a few hours.
I walk in with Luke, Vince, and Will trailing behind me. Luke’s already talking about ordering wings, and Vince looks like he could use a drink, or five. We claim a high-top table near the back, close enough to the dartboard that Luke won’t be able to resist challenging someone to a match later.
“Man, it’s been forever since we did this,” Luke says, dropping onto a stool. “What’s it been? A couple of months?”
“Feels like forever,” Vince mutters, his expression somewhere between tired and distracted.
Will grabs a stool, spinning it once before sitting down. “That’s because you’ve had a lot of shit going on. Hell, we all have.”
I nod, leaning back. “Yeah, life’s been a little… chaotic.”
Luke whistles low, smirking. “Owen admitting it’s chaotic? That’s a first.”
“Don’t be a dick,” I mutter, though there’s no real heat in my words. My mind drifts and I grab my phone out of habit. Callie’s text thread stares back at me, empty of new messages. She’d insisted she was fine tonight, practically pushed me out the door, but that doesn’t stop me from thinking about her.
“You’ve got that look,” Will says, narrowing his eyes at me.
“What look?” I ask, lifting my beer.
“That ‘I’m thinking about my girl instead of enjoying a night out’ look,” Will teases, smirking.
Luke leans in, grinning. “Oh yeah, he’s got it bad. Can’t even enjoy a beer without picturing her face, huh?”
“Shut up,” I say, shaking my head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But they do. My thoughts keep circling back to Callie—how she lingered by Ruby’s bassinet this morning, adjusting the blanket even though it didn’t need fixing. The way her hands trembled as she helped Sara into her coat. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
Luke waves to a passing waitress, signaling for another round of beers. “Alright, enough of the heavy stuff. Tonight, we’re here to fix that. No chaos. Just good drinks, good company, and bad decisions.”
“Bad decisions?” Vince smirks. “You planning to karaoke again, Luke? Because if you are, I’m recording it this time.”
Luke flips him off. “Only if you sing backup, Mitchell.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
The beers arrive, and we all raise our glasses in an unspoken toast.
“How’s Callie?” Will asks, glancing at me. “And the baby?”
“They’re good,” I say, though my chest tightens. “Callie’s had a rough week, but she’s holding it together. Ruby’s perfect.”
Hunter and Mandee, the bar’s owners, appear at our table just as Luke starts explaining his grand strategy for darts. Hunter’s cocky grin is in full effect as he sets a stack of plastic cups on the table.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite beer pong losers,” Hunter says, his voice carrying over the din of the bar.
Mandee rolls her eyes. “Don’t let him fool you. He’s been talking about a rematch all week because he can’t handle losing.”
Hunter grins. “I let you win.”
Mandee ignores him, setting down a tray of shots. “These are on the house, but only because you boys look like you need them.”
Luke grabs one, raising it in the air. “To bad decisions.”
Vince chuckles. “To surviving the week.”
Will lifts his glass. “To good friends.”
I pause for a moment, thinking about Callie and the kids. “To the people who make it all worth it,” I say quietly.
The alcohol burns as it goes down, but it leaves a warmth that settles in my chest. For a little while, I manage to relax, joining in on the jokes and watching Luke embarrass himself at darts. Just as the night feels like it’s hitting its stride, Luke leans back in his chair and a sly grin spreads across his face. “Alright, boys, what do you say we keep this night going? Hit up The Spank Bank ?”
Will perks up. “The strip club?”
Luke shrugs. “Why not? It’s been forever, and Vince could probably use a tittle distraction.” He laughs at his own joke.
“Don’t even think about it,” Mandee says sharply, shooting Hunter a pointed look.
Hunter raises his hands innocently. “Hey, I didn’t say a word!”
Mandee narrows her eyes at him before turning her glare on Luke. “And if I catch you there, I’m telling Heather.”
Luke laughs, leaning back with his beer. “Heather wouldn’t care. Hell, she’d probably ask to join us.”
Mandee arches an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Uh-huh. You keep telling yourself that.”
I shake my head, laughing quietly. “Yeah, no chance I’m going to The Spank Bank. Callie would lose her mind if I stepped foot in there.”
“Oh, come on,” Luke teases. “She doesn’t have to know.”
I shoot him a look. “It’s not about her knowing. It’s about the fact that another woman touching me would undo her, and honestly? I don’t want that either.”
The table falls silent for a second, the guys exchange glances.
Vince smirks. “Whipped.”
“Maybe,” I say, shrugging. “But I’d rather be whipped than mess up what I’ve got at home.”
Will raises his glass, tipping it toward me. “Respect.”
When the night finally winds down, I pull on my jacket and say my goodbyes. The tension I’ve been carrying all evening finally starts to ease as I step into the cold night air.
Climbing into my truck, I pull out my phone again.
Me:
On my way home. Love you.
Her response comes before I even start the engine.
Callie:
Love you too. Can’t wait to see you.
I sit there for a moment, letting the quiet settle around me. Nights like this are fun, but nothing compares to going home to her.
The drive to Hawkridge is quiet, the streets lit by faint orange streetlights. Most of the town is asleep, their houses decorated with Christmas lights twinkling in the cold. I glance at the dashboard clock, estimating I’ll be home in fifteen minutes. Callie’s probably curled up on the couch by now, trying to distract herself with a book or one of those baking shows she loves.
My phone buzzes in the cupholder, and I glance at the screen. Callie.I smile, picking it up and answering quickly. Apparently she really cannot wait for me to get home. “Hey, dollface?—”
“Owen,” she interrupts, her voice trembling. “Something’s wrong with Ruby.”