“He’s out like a light,” Devin says with some relief. “Not one tear.”
“Good.” I smile softly.
He leans against the counter looking drained. “What did she say when you picked him up?”
“Do you really want to know?” I reply quietly as I load the dishwasher.
“Yeah. Why the hell not?” he smiles mirthlessly.
I take a deep breath and catch his eye. “Ashleigh says she is trying to stay away from him. She wants time to think.”
He doesn’t appear to react to that—at least not on the outside. He tips his head back, closes his eyes and lets out a long breath. I act on instinct, on the need to get his shoulders to stop trying to attach themselves to his ears and his thick, dirty-blond eyebrows to stop pinching together. I step closer, reach out and wrap my hands around each of his shoulders, where they curve into his neck, and I begin to knead.
He lets out the most fucking delicious little grunt, so deep and needy that I feel it between my legs. His head falls forward now, eyes still closed, and his neat blond hair becomes a tousled mess covering his forehead. Holy hell, he’s still just naturally the hottest boy I’ve ever met. I keep massaging his shoulders for several minutes in silence, and as his shoulders finally begin to sag, I ask, “How do you feel?”
He pulls his head up and opens his eyes. They’re a light hazel color tonight and the flecks of amber seem more noticeable than normal. He reaches up and cups my face for a brief second, leaving a trace of heat behind on my cheek.
“I’m done feeling,” he tells me and starts out of the room. “’Night, Callie.”
Chapter 9
Devin
As we start filing off the plane, I turn to Loops.
“Want to grab a beer?” I ask hopefully. “I need to unwind.”
He looks hesitant but he nods. “Sure. Let me just call Tara and let her know.”
I nod. The mention of his wife makes my heart ache. That used to be me—with a wife and a son waiting for me at home. I walk through the airport with him as he calls his wife. They talk for a few seconds about what’s been going on while he’s been away and then he asks if he can head out for beers.
I wait for the inevitable fallout I always got from Ashleigh if I didn’t rush right home to be with her after a road trip. But Loops just laughs into the phone. “Okay, if you want me to, I’ll do it. Give Henry a kiss for me and tell him I’ll see him soon.”
“All good?” I ask, trying not to look surprised or envious.
“Yeah. But she says I better come home tipsy so she can take advantage of me,” he says with a chuckle.
Wow, I think. Tara is amazing.
We decide to head to a pub called McSorley’s. Alex Larue and Tommy Donahue join us and as soon as we sit down, they all order beers. I order a Crown and Coke, finish it, and order another before they can finish their first pints.
My phone rings three times during the hour and a half we sit around chatting and drinking. One of the times is Callie. The other two are Ashleigh. I send all of them to voicemail.
“Anyone up for heading to the club down the street?” Tommy asks hopefully. “I’m supposed to meet some guys there. It’s got talent on a Friday night!”
“Talent?” Loops asks, raising a bushy brown eyebrow in confusion.
“Yeah. Hot women,” Tommy clarifies. “Talent means hot chicks.”
“Ahh. Talent.” Loops laughs, standing up and dropping some cash on the table. “I’m out. My wife wants to take advantage of me.”
Alex whistles at that and Tommy chuckles. I give my best friend on the team a tight smile and swallow down the jealousy. It’s not his fault I picked a cheater and he didn’t. As we say good-bye to Loops outside the bar, he grabs my shoulder.
“You okay?” he asks finally. I know he’s wanted to ask that since the start of the road trip. We haven’t talked at all about Luc showing up at his house in the middle of the night or why I looked like, and played like, death warmed over the entire trip. Instead of telling him anything, I just shrug and walk away.
Tommy wasn’t kidding. The club—a fair-sized dance club with a huge dance floor and a mechanical bull in the corner—is hopping with gorgeous women who are just as hot as the wannabe puck bunnies from the last time I was out with Tommy, only they’re way classier looking.
My eyes fall on a dirty blonde by the edge of the dance floor. She’s wearing a short silver-gray dress. Her legs are long, toned and tanned. Her hair is natural blond, not bottled. She’s talking with a shorter brunette that Tommy pointed out earlier.
