“Can we be done talking about Ian?” Callum stretched his legs out and popped the lid off his wine to take a full drink.
“We can be. But you shouldn’t be.” Mark said, balling up his sandwich wrapper and tossing it in the bag. He stood and stretched, wiping loose grass off of his pants. “I need to get back to work.”
“I’ll walk you,” Samantha said, mirroring Mark’s movements and brushing her hands down the pleats of her dress. “Do you want to come, Callum?”
He shook his head and took another drink. “No, thanks for lunch, though. And for talking.”
“That’s what friends are for,” she said with a smile. “So be a friend, not a stranger.”
Callum laughed, “Got it, boss.”
Mark threw a wave over his shoulder and took Samantha’s hand, leading her back down the winding garden pathway and out of the cemetery.
Callum lay down on the grass and closed his eyes; the sparks against the back of his eyelids looked like fireworks and stars, and his thoughts drifted back to Jack. He was supposed to call him when he got done with lunch, and he hated that. It was stupid. Jack was down the street from his apartment at Landon and Verity’s and Callum was just supposed to call?
Was he such a burden that Jack didn’t want to see him in person?
His insecurities mounted again, and he had a sharp, painful moment of self-loathing. He hadn’t felt this way when he knew Jack was in New York. Things had been how they were because that was how they had to be. They didn’t need to be that way anymore, though, and Callum resented that they were.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened the Skype app, ringing Jack, who answered quickly.
“Hey there, kitten,” Jack’s face came into focus, his hair messy and damp.
“Hi, Daddy.” Callum closed his eyes and leaned his head to the side.
“Where are you at?”
“The cemetery.”
“Whatever for?”
“I had lunch with Samantha and Mark. It’s nice here,” he informed Jack. “They do movies on the weekends. I’ll bring you sometime. If you want.”
“That sounds lovely, kitten.”
Callum took a deep breath. “Can I come see you?”
“Is everything okay?” Jack’s eyebrows squished together and he leaned closer to the camera.
Callum blinked and his eyelashes felt wet. “Yeah. I mean, I’llbefine. Uhm, honestly, I could use a hug, I think.”
“Then come and get one, kitten. I’ll text you the address.”
“Thanks,” Callum whispered.
Jack ended the call. Callum’s phone buzzed with a text. He stood up and keyed the address into his maps program on the walk back to Samantha and Mark’s apartment. He tossed the unfinished wine into a trash can and drove back to Pasadena.
20
Jack
When Jack opened the door,he found a red-faced and sullen Callum on the porch, his eyes boring holes into the wood planks under his feet.
“Kitten,” Jack said softly, holding his arms open.
Callum walked right into them, burying his face against Jack’s chest. He wrapped his arms around Callum and held him tightly, even as Callum’s arms hung limp at his sides. After what seemed like ages, Callum’s fingers tickled against Jack’s waist then looped together around the small of his back.
Jack kissed the top of his head and walked them inside, pushing the door closed.
