Chapter 48 Callan #2
Dara howls with laughter. “Your life is more dramatic than any of those soaps Ma watches.”
“Tell me about it.” I drum my fingers on the steering wheel as we shoot the breeze for another few minutes before I find my balls and head up to my apartment.
The corded knots in my shoulders relax when I discover the place empty.
There’s a note from Gwen on the kitchen counter saying she’s gone out for drinks with her new workmates, my dinner is in the microwave to heat up, and my laundry is folded on my bed.
“Fuck’s sake,” I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck.
“I wish she’d quit this shit.” I don’t like her touching my things or cooking my food.
She’s a shit cook, and though she tries to stick to my weekly diet plan, I usually end up binning her dinner and making my own.
I know I sound ungrateful, but I wish she’d stop with the mum routine because it’s getting on my nerves.
I know it’s her way of paying me back for letting her stay here, but I’d rather she focus her efforts on finding a flat.
After changing into trackie bottoms and a T-shirt, I eat what I can of the overcooked chicken dinner she left me before sprawling across the sofa to watch TV.
Astrid messages me in between her last classes of the day, and we arrange a call for tomorrow night.
We don’t always get to speak every day now she’s busy finishing up assignments and studying for her May exams.
I call it a night at ten because I’ve got an early start in the morning. We have an away game tomorrow, and I need to be at the club by six. Gwen still isn’t back, and it’s been so nice having a night to myself without her running commentary nonstop in my ear.
“Fucking hell,” I hiss when I wander into the kitchen in my team suit just after five a.m. and find Gwen propped against the counter, drinking a glass of water, in only a thong. I lower my eyes to the ground before I see too much. “You can’t walk around my place practically naked, Gwen.”
“Oops, sorry.” She slurs her words and giggles.
She’s drunk. Great. “Go to your room. I need the kitchen.”
“Just wanted to get some water to soak up the alcohol,” she slurs as I watch her feet come closer.
“And no need to get your panties in a bunch, Cal.” She places her hand on my arm.
“I know you’ve seen tits before, though not like these.
” She giggles again. “All my boyfriends have fucking loved my tits. No one would blame you if you took a sneak peek. I swear I won’t tell. ”
I whirl around and stride into the hall, grabbing my coat, keys, phone, and bag, and hightail it out of there. I’m seething by the time I reach my car, and the brakes screech as I reverse out of my spot. I have officially reached my breaking point, and I want Gwen out ASAP.
Astrid is out with Paige and Tonya tonight, celebrating Tonya’s promotion to head bar person, so although it’s midnight, I give her a call, confident she’ll be awake.
“Hey, babe!” she says when she picks up. Loud music blares in the background. “Give me a second to go someplace quieter.”
I try to calm down so I don’t take it out on my girl.
“I can talk now.”
“She needs to go, Astrid. This week. I don’t care what fucking excuse she comes up with this time. I want her out.”
“What’s happened now?” A resigned sigh filters down the line.
I almost blurt it, but I stop myself. I intensely dislike Gwen, but she’s Astrid’s best friend, and if I tell her what just happened, she won’t like it.
She has her final project to hand in in two weeks and exams after that.
Astrid will worry that Gwen is drinking again, and she won’t like how she was prancing around semi-naked in front of me.
I don’t plan on keeping it a secret indefinitely, but that kind of conversation is better left until she gets here.
Gwen hasn’t done anything like this before, and she’s known to be a flirty drunk.
I want to believe that’s all it is, that she didn’t mean anything by it, but I don’t think I can.
I’m picking up vibes off Gwen I don’t like one little bit.
“I don’t like her being in my space and around my things. I’ve been super understanding, but my patience has run out. It’s time she left.”
“Okay. You’re right. You’ve been more than accommodating, especially when the deal was only a week. I’ll call her tomorrow and tell her she needs to leave. She’s getting paid this week, and she has a buyer for the house, so if she has to get a hotel room for a while, I’m sure she can manage.”
“Thank you.” Relief floods my system as I pull out of the apartment building and onto the main road. I was expecting another argument, and I’m so glad she’s in agreement.
“I’m really grateful you let her stay, Callan. I know you two don’t always get along, and I know how messy she is to live with, so I appreciate it.”
She actually hasn’t been messy. My apartment is spotless because she’s always cleaning and tidying. “I only did it for you.”
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” I say as I take a left turn. Thankfully, traffic isn’t too heavy at this time on a Saturday.
“Good luck with the game today. I’ll be watching it when I wake up.”
“I’ll score a goal for you.”
“I’m holding you to that, soccer star.”
“Enjoy your night, and say hi to Paige and Tonya.” If it was Paige moving to London and asking to stay, I’d have zero hesitation.
“I’ll call you tomorrow. Break a leg, babe. Though not literally.” She giggles, and I’m guessing she’s had a few vodka cranberries tonight.
“Love you.”
“Right back at ya, Irish.”
“Laters.” I hang up and take the next right, heading toward the club.
I’m exhausted when I make it home at seven that night.
Immediately, I’m accosted with a delicious aroma.
Smells like something made with tomatoes and garlic.
I frown as I dump my things and hang up my coat.
The overhead lights are out, and the only illumination is the flickering of candles lit around the room.
“Perfect timing.” Gwen materializes in front of me, and I blink repeatedly, unsure if I’m seeing things in the dim light.
“What did you do to your hair?”
“I dyed it.” She toys with a few strands of golden-blonde hair.
“They do say blondes have more fun, and London is a fresh start for me, so I thought it was time for a new look.” She runs a hand down the front of her dress, sashaying her hips and letting the material dance around her hips.
It’s the kind of dress Astrid would wear, and on her, I’d think it’s pretty, but it just looks all wrong on Gwen.
“I got a new dress too. What do you think?”
“What’re you doing?” My suspicion threads through my tone, but I don’t give a fuck.
Faux innocent eyes land on mine. “What do you mean?”
“All this.” I point at the dining table, which is set for two with flowers and candles on top of it.
From the aroma wafting from the kitchen, I’m guessing she cooked, though maybe not because it actually smells appetizing.
The whole setup screams romance, and I’m instantly on edge. “What the fuck are you up to?”
“I’m not up to anything, Cal.” The exuberance disappears from her tone, and the gleeful smile drops off her face.
“I wanted to celebrate finally finding an apartment. I’ll be moving out on Sunday, so I cooked you a thank-you dinner.
I wanted to make it nice, and I didn’t realize that was a crime.
” She stomps past me and flicks on the lights.
“I even bought dinner from that Italian place you like, because I know you don’t like my cooking, but I guess I shouldn’t have bothered. ”
A sob trickles into the air as she flips switches on the cooker before heading in the direction of the bedrooms, her high heels clicking off the wooden floors.
Fan. Astrid will bust my balls if I upset her bestie again.
I’m not buying the act for a second, but if she is moving out, I can at least pretend I appreciate the gesture.
“Gwen, wait.” I scrub my hands down my face as I prepare to eat humble pie.
“I’m sorry. This is a lovely gesture, and we shouldn’t let the food go cold. It’s great you found a place.”
She turns around so fast I have whiplash looking at her. “Yay!” She swats at her tears. “Go sit, and I’ll serve up dinner.”
“Leave the lights on,” I call out as she strides past me, loosening my tie and tugging it over my head. I fling it onto a chair and drape my jacket on the back before leaning down and blowing all the candles out.
I draw the line at a romantic dinner for two, and if she wants to turn on the waterworks, she can try. She’ll find it won’t work on me.
Surprisingly, she says nothing, beaming like she’s the dog’s bollix as she sets a plate of chicken with pasta and a glass of water in front of me.