Callum yanked the napkin out of Lo’s hands and read the title. He sucked in a breath and stared at me, hard. “The list is blank.”
“You interrupted us as we were getting started,” Lo fired back.
Dean ran a hand over his face, his jaw set in a hard line. His gaze bored into mine, his unreadable as always. With a quick shake of his head, he left the table. Luca shrugged and followed him, but Callum waved a hand in the air. “Don’t worry about Romano. He’s having a moment. Now, let’s make this shit. I’vebeen bored for a minute, and this sounds exhilarating. Public sex has to be on there, at least twice.”
“Never thought I’d say this, Callum, but I’m glad you’re here.” Vee cheered her drink with his, and he clinked it back.
“I’m the king of trouble, so Mack, how much fun are we going to have?”
CHAPTER
TWO
Dean
Icouldn’t believe Callum dragged me out for this. A list of fun? Of getting into trouble? I had enough trouble to last a lifetime, and it wastroublethat had put me in this damn funk. Gripping the back of my neck, I found my way to the bar. If I was being peer-pressured into acting social, then I deserved a drink. Maybe two of them. Summer hours were the best because no one was here. It was hot as an armpit outside, humid, and only upperclassmen with jobs or summer classes remained on Central State campus.
Previous me would’ve hated how slow it was because I craved attention. Without the crowds, how could I hook up with the hottest girl here? How could I pose and high five and get free drinks? God, I wasn’t the biggest fan of myself, looking back the last few years. My mom referred to my underclassmen years as my first and second season of life, where the writers were still brainstorming the show before the main character—me—figured their shit out. She, along with my dad and sister, had no idea about why I’d changed from my party-animal,attention-seeking self to this more reserved, quiet version. I’d never tell them. It hurt too much, and the guilt… I was so fucking sick of it. My entire body tightened with anger, even months after. I lifted my fingers once I reached the copper bar top, and the pretty bartender met my eyes.
Old me would’ve enjoyed the way her outfit fit her body. Current me didn’t. Current me liked the slow pace of summer. There were fewer people to bother me, to recognize me, and to ask for a photo. Even now, after Callum demanded I come out for a drink, eight girls who wanted a selfie lingered at the entrance. A simple interaction shouldn’t piss me off. Maybe they were real fans, or maybe they wanted clout to say they met some of the team, butjust a photowas how it had started withher.The reason my soul had a chip in it where I couldn’t trust anyone again.
When the first girl I fell for pretended to be pregnant, lied about it, then cheated on me and became pregnant withsomeone else’s baby,I got fucked up. Couldn’t trust anyone. Was terrified to even look at a girl.
“Romanooo, wait up.” Callum caught up to me. The bastard said my name like it was ten syllables long. If he wasn’t the kindest fucker in the world, I’d probably hate him. He befriended everyone alive, never got flustered, and made everyone around him happier.
He was also convincing as hell and always got what he wanted—which was me coming out with him and Luca. The two overbearing dudes refused to let me live in my head. Did Callum have any idea about the truth? No. But he was empathetic as hell and had more emotional intelligence than anyone I knew.
“O’Toole.” I sighed as he joined me against the bar. Our arms touched, and I shoved him away. I believed in personal space. He didn’t.
“I promised you I’d buy you a round for coming out tonight.” He pushed up onto his elbows and looked over the bar. “Oh, they have cherries. I’ve been craving an Old Fashioned, but this place doesn’t have the nice ice cubes. Isn’t it weird how an ice cube can make or break a drink? Like those slushies with the small cube ice at the drive-in?”
The bartender returned with my beer.
“Oh, hello there, you are gorgeous. Could I get an Old Fashioned with Maker’s? I’m feeling myself tonight. And three shots of whatever you have that won’t kill us. My dude here needs a pick-me-up.”
“Does he?” The bartender winked at me, her tongue dancing on her lower lip. Her dark hair hung down to her waist, and she had all the things that used to entice me about women: curves, sultry lips, eyes that shouted mischief, and an ass to hold onto. But instead of even a blip of interest, my libido was dead. Gone. Out of the country.
“My beer is fine.”
“False.” Callum put his arm around me, squeezing my shoulder. “Jabroni, it’s so nice having you here.”
“I see you every day, O’Toole. What are you doing?”
“Cheering you up. I can tell you’re down, bro, and not sure why. I’m not asking, that’s your business, but I’d be a shit teammate if I didn’t pull you out of your ass.”
My jaw tightened, and a million different feelings flew through my chest. Gratitude, pain, guilt, and happiness. How lucky was I that my teammates were trying to help me? I sipped the beer and met Callum’s puppy-face. He always looked like Christmas was the next day. “I’ve been in a weird headspace.”
“I get it. We all have moments like that. It’s life.”
“I doubt you’ve ever had a down moment, Cal. You’re annoyingly happy all the fucking time.”
“Mm, I wouldn’t say that.”
Luca joined my other side, his serious face scanning the crowd. “I hate people.”
I snorted. “Wow, you’re a ray of sunshine.”
“I need new roommates. Jesus, you two are like clouds in the night. It’s hard being the ray of sunlight all the time with you two grumping around. You’ve always been this way, Luca. It’s part of your charm. Lo is all smiles, and you’re frowns. It’s fitting.” Callum grinned as the bartender handed three shots to us. “Ah, beautiful, thank you, gorgeous.”
