Chapter 5 Callum
Chapter Five: Callum
The blonde tastes like Patron and Sprite.
I’m kissing her against the wall near the pool, one hand in her hair, the other holding a red Solo cup I should’ve put down five minutes ago. The music’s so loud I can feel it in my chest. Bass thumping. People screaming. Someone just jumped in the pool fully clothed.
She pulls back, breathless, grinning, and says something I can’t hear over the noise.
I nod anyway and drink from the cup. It’s mostly ice now, but I finish it.
Winning used to feel better than this. It used to feel like something other than an excuse to get wasted and pretend the past month didn’t happen.
One month since Sienna.
One month since she dumped me in front of half the team at some restaurant downtown. She called me immature and said I was fun but not serious. She said she needed someone who could commit to something other than hockey and himself.
Everyone warned me. Rowan pulled me aside. Zephyr said she was bad news. Even Coach made a comment about distractions.
I dated her anyway because I liked the chaos, the attention, and the way she looked at me like I was the only person in the room.
Right up until I wasn’t.
I tell everyone I’m over it.
But after thirty days, I’m afraid my heart keeps proving me wrong.
The blonde’s saying something again. I lean down, trying to hear.
“You want another drink?”
I smirk. “Always.”
She disappears into the crowd. I watch her go, already forgetting her name. Ashley? Amanda? Doesn’t matter.
“Brixton!”
I turn. Nolan’s standing on the pool ledge, shirtless, holding a bottle of tequila above his head like a trophy.
“Streak! Streak!”
The crowd picks it my name in a loud chant.
I grin and climb onto the ledge next to him.
The pool’s heated, steam rising off the surface. There are girls in bikinis even though it’s cold out. Guys with their shirts off. Everyone’s drunk and loud.
I spread my arms wide.
“We’re the best fucking team in the league!”
The crowd erupts. Someone throws a beer can. It splashes into the pool.
This is what I need. Noise. Proof I’m still worth something.
Nolan hands me the tequila, so I take a long pull straight from the bottle. It burns fucking perfectly.
I jump down. The blonde’s back with two cups.
A brunette appears next to her. Also cute. Also interested.
“You’re Callum, right?” the brunette asks.
“Guilty.”
The blonde loops her arm through mine. The brunette steps closer. I talk to both of them. Flirt with both. Let them compete for my attention.
It’s a game, and I’m good at games.
“Skinny dip!” someone shouts.
The whole pool area picks up on it. Another chant that feels like a dare.
I look at the blonde, the brunette, then back at the pool.
“Fuck it.”
I pull off my shirt and toss it at the blonde. She catches it, eyes wide, grinning.
Jeans next. Boxers right after. The girls’ eyes look down at me and snicker. The excitement in their eyes is obvious.
I run and jump into the pool with my dick slapping my thighs. The water swallows me whole.
When I surface, everyone’s cheering and screaming my name.
“Yeah!” I shout.
“Yeah!” they shout back. More and more people are jumping in naked.
I’m a fucking legend.
This is what I came here for.
I swim to the edge and climb out.
The brunette’s standing above me, so I pull her in and kiss her. Hard. Just because I can.
She tastes like vodka and lime.
Perfect.
I throw my pants on without my boxers and then someone hands me a shot. I take it. Then another.
The music shifts. Something with a heavier beat. I’m dancing now. Or trying to. The blonde’s pressed against my back. The brunette’s laughing.
Everything’s loud. Bright. Chaotic.
Exactly how I need it.
“Callum.”
That voice cuts through everything.
I turn.
Rowan.
Captain Rowan Melrose. Perfect GPA. Perfect control. Perfect pain in my ass. He’s standing at the edge of the pool area, arms crossed, not smiling.
“What?” I shout over the music.
“Enough.”
“Enough what?”
“You’re done. Go home.”
I laugh, making sure everyone around me hears it. I shake my head, catching a few wandering eyes.
“I’m celebrating, Captain. You know that thing normal people do when they win?”
A few guys laugh. Rowan doesn’t.
“You’re making a scene.”
“That’s literally the point of a party.”
His jaw tightens. The crack in his perfect control.
I want to shove my fingers in and pry it wider.
I step closer, still dripping wet. My pants are soaking against my wet skin.
“You know what your problem is, Rowan? You think being captain means you get to control everyone.”
“I think being captain means I clean up after you.”
“What messes? I scored two goals tonight. I’m the reason we won.”
“And now you’re half-naked, drunk off your ass, making out with every girl you see.”
I grin. Wide. Mean.
“Jealous?”
The music’s still pounding, but the people around us go quiet.
Rowan’s face doesn’t change, but his shoulders pull back.
“Go home, Callum.”
“Make me.”
Someone whistles.
Nolan appears next to Rowan. The guy who never loses his cool. He just looks at me and doesn’t say anything. That pisses me off more than Rowan’s lecture.
“What, Nolan? You got something to say too?”
He shrugs, not taking the bait.
Which makes me want to throw something at his face.
“You’re all so fucking boring.”
I turn to walk away. Rowan grabs my arm.
“We’re not done.”
I yank free and get in his face.
“Yeah, we are.”
Rowan doesn’t back down. He stares at me with that look that says he’s done playing games.
“You’re leaving. Now.”
“Or what?”
“Or I make sure Coach hears about tonight.”
Low blow.
I laugh. But it’s not funny anymore.
“You’re such a fucking dictator.”
“And you’re a liability.”
That one lands hard.
I step back, grab my shirt from where the blonde dropped it, and pull it on.
“Fine. Whatever. I’ll crash at your place.”
“No.”
I stop and look at him.
“What?”
“You’re not bringing this to my place.”
“Are you serious right now?”
“You’re not crashing with me anymore.” He turns and walks away. Nolan follows.
I stand there. Dripping. Pissed. Humiliated in front of everyone.
The blonde touches my arm and says something.
I don’t hear it.
I pull away, running my fingers through my wet hair.
I don’t want to go home.
My apartment’s too quiet. Too empty. The couch where Sienna used to sit. The counter where she left her coffee mug. The bed where she told me I wasn’t enough.
I’ll spiral if I go there.
I pull out my phone and call Zephyr.
No answer.
Call Jax.
Straight to voicemail.
I try Zephyr again and leave a message.
“Yo. It’s me. I am… coming over. Don’t care if you’re sleeping. Need a place to crash.”
I hang up.
They don’t judge me. They’re my boys. I can always crash there.
I order an Uber and wait outside on the curb. The party’s still raging. Bass thumping. People screaming.
I don’t look back.
The driver doesn’t talk. I lean my head against the window and close my eyes.
When we pull up to Jax and Zephyr’s place, it’s dark. Quiet. Weird after all the noise.
I get out. The Uber pulls away.
The front door’s unlocked. They always leave it unlocked when they’re home.
I push inside.
It’s so dark that I can’t see where the fuck I’m walking.
I stumble against a chair and then hit the wall.
Shit. I try to adjust my eyes, but my head’s spinning from all the alcohol.
It takes a moment, but my eyes finally adjust. I reach for the wall, letting it guide me down the hall.
I head straight for the guest room. The one I’ve crashed in a hundred times.
Door’s closed, so I’m trying to find the doorknob.
I twist and push it open.
The room’s dark, but I see the bed.
I close the door behind me and reach for the bed. My vision’s still spinning. I drop face-first onto the bed. The mattress is warm, comfortable. Just what I need.
I register someone. A body. A person. I think? Maybe it’s Sienna, and then I laugh, sinking further into the bed. In my dreams.
My eyes close. I can’t move. Can’t think. Can’t do anything but sink.
The dark swallows me whole.