Chapter 2 #2
I snort a laugh at his not-so-random example. “Remember the Morning Star Seniors’ Ball?”
“Don’t,” Luke warns with a threatening look I’m happy to ignore.
Callie’s eager smile seals his fate.
“So there’s this lady with a… What was that thing again? I don’t know, some huge hat and boa thing. Anyway?—”
“Case!” But he can’t be too mad when he turns to Callie with a smile. “She had good intentions.”
Understatement of the century. “She thought he was the one benefiting from the charity because of the ‘dreadful condition of his clothing.’”
Exact quote, if I recall.
“I was wearing three-hundred-dollar jeans and a Julian Salitoni jacket.”
The entire scene springs to life in my head, and I can’t hold in my laughter. The poor woman whining to her friends as if we weren’t standing right there. Her tiny dog yelping in her arms like it was desperate to explain what her prejudice was too thick to see.
“Oh man, I just about died when that happened. Dude, she was ready to take you home and give you a hot shower and cot in her living room.”
Luke rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t seem as upset as I would have guessed. He’s probably just glad we’ve moved on to safer topics.
Callie leans back to scan him in an exaggerated appraisal.
“I don’t know. I kind of see it. I mean, there’s the messy hair, and the jeans may be three hundred dollars, but they look like they’re one wash away from disintegrating.
Your t-shirt could definitely use a bit of mending.
I’d slip you a twenty as long as you promised not to buy booze with it. ”
Luke smiles—actually grins . Wow. How the hell did she do that?
“I never would have promised that,” he replies.
Callie returns his grin before shifting in her chair to give us each a dry onceover. My heart rate picks up when her inquisitive stare slides over me with more than amused interest. She’s supposedly joking as she checks me out, but something tells me she’s also… not.
A long-dead shiver of attraction pierces my awareness.
“Okay, fine, so I’m guessing what I’m supposed to take away from this little tale is that it’s not often you encounter people under seventy-five who don’t know who you are.”
“Only because we don’t have time to come in contact with those people,” I say, then remember where we are and why we’re here. “Well, you do, apparently.”
I kick myself when Luke returns a dark look.
“Alright, fine, so I get it. You’re a super famous rockstar in Night Shifts Black. Then can I ask what you play? Or should I already know that, too?” Callie’s smug expression is so stinkin’ cute. She’s even managed to smooth Luke’s sour expression into something more human.
“Now I get why you like her.” I direct the comment at Luke, even though it’s meant for Callie. “She knows nothing about us, does she?”
“Nope,” Luke says with a smile.
Callie tosses her brunette hair over her shoulder and scrunches her face in an adorable pout. “So, what, I’m supposed to grovel at your feet because you’re big rock gods? Sorry if I was the only person on this planet who didn’t know that.”
“No, but now that you know, you should be groveling,” I joke.
“Oh boy.” Luke cowers with mock concern for my safety.
Maybe it’s warranted when she crosses her arms and delivers a challenging look. God, I live for this shit. Luke was right. I’m already in love.
“Really?” she says. “What if I’m an undercover royal princess? Maybe you should be groveling at my feet.”
“If you’re really an undercover royal princess, I will. You’d have to prove it, though.”
“Prove you’re in Night Shifts Black.”
Easy enough. I make a dramatic shift toward Luke. “Am I in Night Shifts Black?”
The traitor holds up his hands in surrender. “I’m not getting involved in this one. You’re on your own.”
“You’re not involved. You’re just verifying a fact.”
Luke glances at Callie, as if asking her permission. Shit. I guess this won’t be as easy as I thought. Their sneaky breakfast club pact means I don’t have a chance at winning whatever this is. Then again, if it results in more banter with Callie, I’ve already won.
“It’s okay. He’s right,” Callie says. “You can answer his question.”
Luke exhales in a faux attempt to make it look like he’s not enjoying this. “Fine. Yes, Casey plays drums in Night Shifts Black.”
Satisfied, I blast her with a smug look. “Okay, there you go. Now, it’s your turn, princess.”
Unfazed, she lifts a brow and faces Luke. “Am I an undercover royal princess?”
A genuine laugh erupts from Luke, and her stunning grin breaks.
My god. She’s magic. I didn’t even think he could laugh anymore.
“Yes, she is,” he confirms.
She shifts toward me, hazel eyes filled with satisfaction. “There you have it.”
I squint back and pass a look between them. “Why do I feel like I’ve been conned?”
“You haven’t been conned, just outvoted,” she quips.
“Ha, fine. This is all breakfast club politics. I get it.”
“There are no politics involved until you order. We only judge based on food selections here.”
As if on cue, Luke signals a server hovering nearby.
It’s then that I realize how strange it was that no one came until now, almost as if the employees were waiting for something. Like they have a role in this strange script as well.
Apparently, the breakfast club politics extend to the rest of the diner. What exactly is happening here?
After a short, familiar exchange, the server takes off to fulfill our drink order.
“He knows you,” I observe.
“He’s a breakfast club regular,” Callie replies.
Interesting.
“If I’d known about breakfast club, I would have visited sooner.” I shoot Callie a smile, loving the way her cheeks flush. Her gaze traces my lips and cuts to my eyes before peeling away.
“Yeah, right. You don’t have time to visit,” Luke cuts in. “I still can’t believe you showed up last night. Don’t you have to be in Richmond tonight? I thought you guys were playing the Calisto Festival.”
I wince and snap my attention to him. Is he serious?
“I would have stopped by as much as I could if you’d let me. You just didn’t want me around. I didn’t even know where you were until TJ called a few days ago. I got here the first second I could.”
He has no idea how hard it was to wait. What it took just to get here. I blew off two commitments, three angry bandmates, and an apprehensive manager to show up at his door, having no idea if he’d let me in or shut it in my face.
Luke doesn’t respond, but his bitter expression sinks into resignation.
Like he knows I’m right and maybe even regrets taking his anger out on me.
I’d feel better if I thought for a second it wouldn’t happen again.
But I know how pain works. Even Callie’s presence isn’t going to be enough to solve the massive rift between us over one cup of coffee.
“One of us needs to try the French toast,” she blurts out.
Her smile breaks through my clouds, and I suspect that was exactly her intent.
“Why’s that?” I ask, taking the bait. Any topic is better than silent sulking.
“We’ve never ordered it, and I think it’s time to diversify breakfast club. What do you think?” she asks Luke.
He barely acknowledges her, but she lets his rudeness roll off her. Clearly, she understands it’s not an affront to her but a product of his own demons. I’m surprised again at how well she handles his moodiness. Probably even better than I do.
“So tell me more about being famous rockstars. I want to hear about the groveling,” she directs at me.
I reward her attempt with a weak smile, but the mood has shifted. “Well, it hasn’t been the same without your friend here, that’s for sure. Luke was Night Shifts Black. Without him we’re basically just a sad cover band.”
She leans forward, a spark of interest in her eyes. Maybe they really don’t talk about his celebrity life.
“At least you’re still touring though, right?”
“Yeah, kind of. But we don’t headline much anymore. We can’t sell out a stadium without Luke Craven.”
“Sweeny does fine,” Luke interjects.
I scoff at him, almost angry he’d say that shit to me.
“Yeah, sure,” I reply sarcastically. “They’re your songs, bro. No one will ever be able to handle them like you do.”
Luke lowers his gaze, and I suppress a grunt of frustration. If he’s this temperamental and unpredictable at all their encounters, Callie is even more of a saint than I thought.
I feel her intense gaze again, but don’t acknowledge it. Maybe she’s irritated with me as well. If she doesn’t know his story, she certainly doesn’t know mine. Heaven knows what Luke has told her… or more likely, hasn’t told her about me.
The server returns with our drinks, and by his expression, he shares my concern that this meal will be ending before it begins.
“Did you decide on your orders?” His hesitant tone confirms that he’s pretty sure the answer is “Check, please .”
We all focus on Luke, watching him with some tacit understanding that the fate of the next step rests with him. His gaze is fixated on a chair at the neighboring table. I’ve seen his attention float to that ugly piece of furniture a few times now.
Good to know a chair is more important than we are.
“I’ll have the French toast,” he says, directing his attention back to us.
Shocked, I look between Callie and him.
“Same,” Callie says, casually shutting her menu like the weirdness of the last two minutes didn’t happen .
The server still has a skeptical look on his face as he scribbles on his pad. His questioning look lands on me.
“What the hell, why not?” I flip the menu in his direction as well.
He takes it and adds it to the others. “Okay, three French toasts it is. Anything else?”
We shake our heads, and he takes off toward the kitchen.
“Do you think he has to go to counseling now because of us?” Callie asks Luke.
His lips tip up in a smile. “He’s at least insisted on a raise.”
She grins, and wow…
She brought him back.