14. Eli
fourteen
Eli
The red taillights of Callie’s car glare back at me as she drives off. I hate the thought of her going home alone, and hate myself more for wishing she was going home with me instead.
I walk up the hill to my car parked on the curb and slide behind the wheel. Callie’s sugary floral scent lingers in the air. I take a deep breath, tasting the sweetness on my tongue with every inhale. My dick hardens as I wonder if her pussy tastes as sweet as she smells.
Fuck.
For the millionth time, I wonder why the fuck it has to be Callie I crave. Why every cell in my body yearns for her. Her smiles, her warmth, her sunshine.
All. Of. Her.
Shaking away my thoughts, I start the car, shift into drive, and pull away from the curb, taking the streets toward the freeway home.
My phone rings, Dez’s name popping up, and I accept the call. “Please tell me you aren’t at the office.”
There are nights when he stays in the office later than I do. It’s what makes him an amazing number two. He’s meticulous to a fault. Dez works hard to know every single detail about our clients, the business, and everything else going on in Hollywood. He has as many connections as I do, if not more.
Dez chuckles. “You’re one to talk, boss.”
“Fair.” Working late is a bad habit we both share.
“But if it makes you feel better, not tonight. Reenie and I just left.”
“Good.” There’s a long pause on the line. “But?”
“No buts. Just wanted to give you a rundown. Are you available?”
“Hit me with it. I’m on my way home.”
“Late night at the studio?”
“No. Just finished dinner,” I blurt without thinking.
“Alone?” I can hear the interest in his voice.
Shit.
I hate lying, but I also don’t want to talk about it, especially not with Dez. He’d give me hell for taking Callie to dinner and then would encourage me to be with her, not stay away like I should. He was in the hallway the day Callie and I met, and witnessed the way we reacted to each other. The attraction.
Dez was also in the meeting when I treated her like crap and talked down to her, accusing her of being a cookie-cutter pop singer, so he should know there is no chance of me and Callie getting together.
“Are you calling to talk business or gossip?”
“Nice deflection, but I’ll bite. Just don’t think we won’t be revisiting this conversation later.”
I have no doubt . “Yeah, yeah. Get talking before I hang up on you.”
Dez laughs again before he fills me in on what’s been happening at the office. I knew he’d have a handle on all the things in my absence.
Twenty-five minutes later, I’m pulling into my driveway as I hang up with Dez. Pride fills my chest. He deserves the promotion I discussed with Hudson about, and I can’t wait to see his face when we tell him. He’s doing an amazing job at the helm.
My phone rings again through the hands-free system, flashing my dad’s name and number on the dashboard screen as I idle in front of my house.
Weird. He usually calls on the weekend to check in.
“What’s up, Pops?” I immediately answer.
“Hey, son.” His serious tone makes my hackles rise.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, thankful that I didn’t cut my car’s engine yet.
“It’s Cam. I’m worried. He won’t answer the phone when I call. I need your help.”
Shit.
My gut churns as guilt coils like a ball of puke in my stomach. I’ve been so wrapped up in Callie I’ve barely watched Cam’s games or texted to check on him.
Instead, I played off Cameron’s problems as nothing. Hell, I even blew off Mason and Jace’s worries because I’ve been so wrapped up in all things Callie.
But if Dad is calling, it’s more serious than I thought. I’m a shit brother. I should have noticed that Cam’s been in terrible shape since everything went sideways with his girlfriend, and her brother, who is his teammate.
“Tell me what you need from me?”
“Your brothers are flying down tonight. I need you to pick them up here at home tomorrow morning and then meet us at the Canyon State Park for backup. We need to help Cam get his head out of his ass before he ruins everything he’s worked so hard for.”
“What time?”
“What kind of stupid-ass question is that? You know what time,” he huffs.
I mumble, “Sorry.”
He ignores me, giving me strict instructions. “Take the short trail to the ocean view benches and don’t be late.”
How the fuck my dad can make me—a grown man—feel like a brainless child is beyond me. He’s not wrong, though. I know the time. We all know.
Each of us has a special thing we do with Dad. For me, it was going to the movies. Jace was surfing, and Mason… Fuck if I know. Mason was cryptic even then.
For Cam, it was baseball. Dad used to pick him up at five in the morning to go running when he was in college. Even then, we all knew Cam was going to be in the big leagues. His dedication to baseball is unparalleled.
I mock-salute the phone and roll my eyes. “Sir, yes, sir.”
“I should smack you upside the head for rolling your eyes at me.”
“I didn’t roll my eyes,” I lie.
“You’re a shit liar. Now, since I have you on the line, tell me about you. How’s work?” Dad asks, bringing a smile to my face.
That’s my dad. Mark Miller is the best man you’ll ever meet. A man I aim to be every day.
He’s also the best dad out there. Ever present and understanding, he has always made each of us boys feel seen and heard. He was at every practice, game, or school event with a smile on his face, ready to cheer us on. Win or lose.
“Work’s good. Busy.” I lean back in the driver’s seat, and fill him in on Hudson’s vacation and the happenings with his family, purposefully leaving out my new job as “watcher” of all things Callie Wright.
Dad will figure out where my head’s at before I do, and that’s not something I’m ready to hear, let alone admit to myself yet.
I will admit watching over Callie is a job I’ve become addicted to since Hudson asked me to fill in for him.
The rope around my chest constricts, thinking about how I didn’t want tonight to end. Not after I held her in my arms as she cried and told me about her dad, or after we fell into an easy conversation like two friends catching up, chatting about our childhoods and eating pie. Especially not after I walked her to the waiting car and the ache in my chest grew, knowing I’d have to let her go.
When she smiled at me, her dark eyes glittered under the fluorescent lights, and it was like a punch to the solar plexus, pulling every molecule of air from my lungs. I wanted so badly to sink my fingers into her silky, long hair, pull her closer, take her sweet mouth with mine, and kiss her until her knees gave out.
Fuck. I want her, and it tears me up inside because I can’t have her.
The earlier tightness in my chest returns as my gut twists. Desire and fear grapple with each other, making my stomach feel like it did when I was at the carnival in sixth grade and ate a funnel cake, ice cream, and a hot dog in one sitting. Not a brilliant combination to scarf down before getting on a roller coaster.
“Eli?” The bite of my dad’s voice snaps me out of my wild thoughts.
“Sorry, what were you saying?”
My dad chuffs a laugh. “You seem distracted, son.”
“Just thinking about work.” I run my hand through my hair, hoping he doesn’t press for more because I have no idea what I’ll say. I don’t want to lie, but I also don’t want to talk about what—or who—is really distracting me.
This is what Callie does to me. She robs me of all common sense, like the sexy thief she is. My every thought is about her. It was bad enough before, but now that we are spending more time together, it’s gotten worse. I’m afraid I’m going to lose control and make Callie mine.
That won’t be good for either of us. Not only do we work together, but she’s over ten years my junior. All people will see is an old pervert taking advantage of a young, gorgeous, and talented woman with her whole life ahead of her. I won’t be like Harold.
My dad sighs. “Alright, but just know I’m here when you’re ready to talk.”
“Thanks, Pops. I’ll see you tomorrow morning with Jace and Mason. Tell Mom hi and that I love her.”
“You got it. See you tomorrow, my boy.” I can hear the smile on my dad’s lips as we spout another round of goodbyes before hanging up.
I’m still in my car when the dashboard lights up again with a 323 area code phone number I don’t recognize. Something about the timing of the call has me answering.
“This is Eli,” I answer.
“E, bro. You’re gonna want to get down here for this.” The booming, deep voice of an old friend fills the car. One I haven’t heard in a while. Not since he helped me with a client ages ago, when he was a bouncer down at the clubs at night and attending stunt school during the day.
“Boone?” I ask.
“Yeah, sorry. I, uh, forgot I changed my number.” His pause has me thinking there’s a story there.
Another time.
“All good. So, what’s this all about? I need to be where?”
The loud baseline from the music in the background switches to a faster tempo, and he shouts over the sound, “Catch-22. The new club in Hollywood.”
“I thought you weren’t bouncing anymore now that I got you those stunt jobs…”
Wait. My heart stops.
Catch-22? Oh, fuck no. Please don’t say it.
“Your girl is here. That singer chick from those teen movies. She’s your client, right?”
Why couldn’t this day just fucking end already?
“Yeah, she’s mine.”
Mine. One word that feels so right and sounds so wrong.
“She’s in one of the private rooms with a group of people I don’t know, but if they leave the room, I can’t help her. There are paparazzi here, man. What should I do?”
“Just keep an eye on her, but don’t let her know you’re watching. I’m on my way.”