Callum
“So much about seeing about a coo. Why are we really here, Graham?” I ask as the bartender brings us each another pint. There was no coo in Oban that he needed to rescue, it was all a damn ruse so that Birdie and Maisie wouldn’t come here on their own.
I might be slightly on the verge of being pissed, but I can’t deny that I had a good time with my brother today.
“Because I’m in love with her and I wasn’t letting her travel this way all alone,” he says, not a hint of delusion on his face.
“You can’t love her.”
“But I do. She’s exactly what I’ve been looking for. She’s perfect.”
I take a heavy sip of my beer. What’s the actual fucking deal with these twins that everyone, including my brother, are losing their shit? Though, this is very Graham of him. He’s easygoing. Everyone loves him, and he doesn’t take life too seriously.
“I just don’t want to see you, Greer, and Lain getting hurt at the end of this.”
“I say this with love. Worry about your own fucking self, Cal.”
There’s nothing to do but stare at my little brother for a moment until we both just start breaking out in laughter. He pulls out his phone, a dopey grin on his face and I already know without a doubt that our brother’s evening is about to be crashed.
“Be fucking nice,” Graham warns, and I don’t really have a retort.
This morning, talking to Maisie was actually kind of pleasant. I’ve been in her shoes. Today had to be hard and I won’t be the type of man who adds on to an emotional day.
He goes to order the women beers and I shake my head.
“Don’t think Maisie likes it very much,” I say, and he arches a dark brow at me, wisely not questioning why I know that. “It’s not as if I mean to know this information. She’s just been at Greer’s enough for me to notice what she drinks.”
“I didn’t say shit,” Graham replies, and I sigh. This is what I get for being considerate.
It doesn’t take but a few minutes for the two sisters to enter the hole in the wall we found ourselves in. The woman who’s stolen my pack mates away from me is petite and always put together, though her face looks downtrodden as they approach us.
Graham automatically takes Birdie into his arms, leaving Maisie no other place but to sit next to me.
“Wine?” I ask and Maisie nods, tossing her purse on the counter.
“Please. Red, nothing too dry.”
Birdie is already sipping her beer, telling Graham about her day when I come back with a Cairn o'Mohr Gorse Wine for Maisie.
“Thank you.” Her voice is soft, with a melodic tilt. She takes a sip of the wine and hums under her breath. I secretly take satisfaction in choosing something she enjoys, not because I want to please her, I just like being right.
“How did today go?” It’s all I can think to ask; it’s better than sitting here awkwardly while Graham and Birdie nearly crawl into one another’s skin.
“Good. I mean, I don’t know if good is the word. It was hard, but it felt cathartic in its own way, too. Saying goodbye is never easy.”
“No. It’s not.”
“What about you? Did you guys decide to buy that cow?”
“There was no coo,” I say and Maisie’s face turns toward Graham and Birdie.
“What do you mean there’s no cow?”
My brother’s cheeks heat and he clears his throat. “Well, see, I needed a reason to explain why I needed to come along and why I needed help from Callum.”
“Don’t mind my brother,” I tell her, because, well, Graham will be Graham.
“I take it you didn’t know I was coming either?” she asks me as she brings the wineglass to her lips. The red wine slightly tints her top lip and she licks it off. “This is delicious.”
“No, I didn’t. It’s a—”
I’m about to tell her about the wine, and what I would pair it with when, against all the fucking odds in the UK, my ex and her pack walk through the door.
Maisie’s gaze follows mine and I feel like I’m stuck in place trying to compute that Fiona is right here in front of me.
She doesn’t look the same. In some ways, in others, she’s exactly the same.
She hasn’t spotted me yet and I’m trying to figure out what the fuck to do.
I can’t trust myself around Leo, her Alpha pack lead.
The last thing I need is to make bail in Oban.
Maisie’s gaze must follow mine and she curses under her breath.
“It doesn’t mean anything, okay?” she says and I break my gaze from the woman who broke my heart to the Omega sitting next to me.
“What?”
Before I can follow up or respond, she’s standing between my legs and grabbing the back of my neck and bringing me in for a kiss.
I should have backed away immediately. I definitely shouldn’t have kissed her back. Above all else, I shouldn’t have swiped my tongue into her mouth and tasted second hand how good the wine is. There’s a moment that I just get lost in it, like I’d forgotten how good it was to kiss someone.
A throat clears next to us, but I ignore it as I grip Maisie’s waist and pull her closer to me.
Can Alphas be touch starved?
The next clearing of a throat is more feminine and pointed. It’s the moment Maisie breaks apart the kiss. I must look dumbfounded as I stare into her eyes. I never realized what a pretty shade of green they are.
“Callum, is that you?” Fiona says, and I finally glance over at my former Omega.
Her deep red hair is still long, hitting her waist. She still has the same freckles on her face, but there’s something different about her. It takes me a long time staring at her to make me realize it. I don’t view her the same, because I don’t love her anymore.
“You gonna stare much longer, prick?” Leo says, and I shift my gaze to him.
“What are you doing in Oban?” Fiona says, while tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. I’m not the best at reading body language, but it almost seems like she’s attempting to flirt with me?
I’m tongue tied and not sure what to say. I don’t want to get into it with Leo, and frankly, I don’t really care to talk to Fiona, either.
Maisie steps in front of me, pushing her back against my chest and I automatically wrap my arms around her.
“Callum and Graham were kind enough to drive us here to spread our late mother’s ashes,” she answers for me.
“Do you no longer speak for yourself, Cal?” Fiona asks, looking over Maisie, who she has a considerable height on.
“No, he doesn’t anymore,” Maisie says and I bring my hand to my mouth to cover a smile.
Fiona looks down at Maisie.
“So it’s true, you and the others, you found a new Omega.”
Maisie looks to the left and the right, finally facing her sister. “Does she not see that I’m literally right here?” she asks Birdie.
“I guess not. Must be too tall,” Birdie says.
“Probably for the best. Was about time the sad sacks stopped moping about losing you,” Leo interjects himself, because of course he does.
“Come on, let’s go grab a table,” her other Alpha, Archie, says.
“Nice meeting you,” Maisie says cheerfully, which has Fiona glaring at her while she follows her pack to the other side of the bar. My ex makes sure she sits at an angle where she can watch us.
“We could go somewhere else,” Graham suggests.
“What? And let them think they have an effect on you? We were here first. Fuck that,” Maisie says.
“Wait. Unless you’re uncomfortable. Gosh, I’m sorry.
I just saw your face, and I knew that guy from when he came to Greer’s and they had told me what happened with her and I just thought it would be easier if they thought you had an Omega.
” She rushes all the words out and I shake my head.
“It’s fine.”
“Is it though? Because she’s kinda staring at the two of you and you aren’t exactly acting like a couple,” Birdie says.
Maisie peeks at their table, and then she does the wildest fucking thing. She reaches up and pushes my hair back.
“Too much?” she asks, scrunching her nose as she looks at me. “I can stop. We can leave.”
“No. It’s not too much. I’m not sure who looks more pissed, Leo or Fiona,” I tell her honestly and she smiles.
“Good. Should um…I don’t know, should you touch me to make it look more believable?"
“Yeah.” So I do, wrapping an arm around her and splaying my palm against her back, my thumb lazily rubbing against her spine and it feels nice.
It has nothing to do with the fact that it’s Maisie, I’m almost positive it would feel good touching anyone at this point. It’s been so long, too long really. I never really considered how much I missed affection until this moment.
Maisie’s hands glide down my arm, her one finger stopping as she points at my tattoo.
“It’s really nicely done,” she says, tracing the sword with her fingertip.
“Thank you. Got it when I turned twenty-one.”
“Does it symbolize anything in particular?"
“My da was super into genealogy and traced our ancestors to the Battle of Bannockburn. He found an old drawing of a few swords likely held by my ancestors, and this one was always my favorite.”
“And this one?” she asks, dragging her finger up to the stag on my forearm. It takes everything in me to not shiver against her skin touching mine.
“It represents the spirit of the Highlands. Graham and I got matching ones together.”
“They suit you, plus the women on your socials seem really into them,” she says and it hits me that she’s teasing me.
My cheeks ache with a smile as I shake my head. “You know your comment got over a hundred likes, by the way?”
“Stop, really? You can’t deny that you didn’t deserve it.”
“I deserve it and worse. I owe you an apology. Here you are helping me out when my ex walks into a bar and I’ve been a right arsehole to you the moment you arrived. So, I’m sorry, it’s nothing personal, it’s me working through my shit.”
The left side of her mouth tilts up, and I realize I’ve been rubbing her back this whole time I’ve been apologizing.
“I forgive you,” she says softly.
“They left,” Birdie announces, and ever so slowly, Maisie removes herself from my arms and goes back to her stool. I don’t feel the loss of Fiona having left the bar, but I do feel the grief of no longer having Maisie touching me.
Maybe there’s something about this Omega after all? There’s still no real reason to get to know her beyond this sort of friendship, not if it has no potential to be serious.
I might be over Fiona, but heartbreak has a way of leaving this aching wound in your chest that feels like it’s impossible to get over. Greer and Lain might be alright with whatever agreement they have in place, but I just can’t do it.
No matter if Maisie is prettier than I ever realized, even if she’s kinder than I ever gave her credit for, even if her touch was the most alive I’ve felt in God knows how long.
Plus, even if Maisie forgave me for how I’ve treated her, there’s no way she would ever be interested in me beyond this truce.
It’s silly to even consider it, really. She said the kiss meant nothing, and it didn’t. Potential heartbreak isn’t even a consideration because there’s not a chance in hell it would ever happen.
As much as I try to mark the night off as a fluke, as her giving me a pitying helping hand, the taste of wine lingers on my tongue and my fingertips long to touch her again.
Fuck.