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Chapter Eight
Iris
Callum seemed distracted as he led me to the private tasting room of the Irish Whiskey Museum. I was a college student in a country with a lower drinking age than the States. It was a touristy thing to do, but it was also literally a few blocks from campus and on a bus route. There was no way Allison and I hadn’t taken advantage of that over the years. Usually, though, it was a lark to walk around the bottom floors or to maybe save up for a flight tasting somewhere with most of the other Trinity students or visitors. I hadn’t been led to a private tasting room. That was definitely something I couldn’t just put on Daddy’s card without getting yelled at. I was twenty-one now, and while there wasn’t a problem with me being under the legal drinking age here, Mom and Dad both had tried to lecture me to death over obeying the U.S. laws even while abroad.
Sure, that was going to happen…a college kid not drinking when she had a chance. Not that I did it often. I definitely indulged after finals to get rid of some stress. That was a given, but to stay ahead and stay competitive in the program at Trinity, I had to stay sober mostly.
D
idn’t make it any less impressive to be led to the top floor and the private tasting room with Callum. The bar was made of a light-colored oak but thick and sturdy. The shelves filled with the top brand whiskeys gleamed amber under well-placed recessed lighting and embedded mirrors. A lanky guy with a close-shaven head, a black Oxford shirt, and matching dark pants was already waiting for us. Even if Callum seemed a bit distant, I felt comfortable sliding my hand into his and clutching it tightly as I took a seat at the bar.
The guy went through his spiel, talking about the different aging processes for the vintages, about how the Irish brewed and aged to perfection, and covered a bit of the history of creating whiskey in Ireland. Small samples of what clearly was their best stock—even if the server hadn’t pointed that out, it’s not like Callum would settle for less—was poured out in generous portions into the tall, rounded glasses before us. A rainbow in shades of amber and gold was laid out before me.
Once the server had finished his speech and poured everything accordingly—not to mention left the bottles out for further drinks—he made a small, gallant bow and left the room. I was glad for that. After all, there was something weighing on Callum’s mind, and I needed to get to the bottom of it. I hadn’t seen him this stressed since I’d met him.
“So,” I started. However, I made the mistake of taking a sip of one of the glasses. I was definitely a lightweight compared to my friends or Allison. Besides, I preferred a glass of white wine or a fun drink like a chocolate martini, something that didn’t taste quite so stiff. I coughed instantly and sputtered half of the whiskey onto the bar. “Okay, first, I wish that had been more suave.”
Callum brightened for the first time since he’d hugged me that morning. “I thought it was flawless, totally give it a 10.0 as a rating, luv.”
“I’m so glad you think I’m beautiful no matter what I do.”
He smirked. “I said flawless, not beautiful, but you get a 10.0 on the beauty meter too. Any idiot who had eyeballs would have enough sense to at least know that much about you.”
I picked up a different glass and took a small, measured sip this time. The liquid still burned, but it also added a pleasant flare of heat to my belly now that I was expecting the harshness too. “You okay, Cal? You seem off. I…did something happen after we had Chinese?”
He shook his head. “Nothing about you.”
“That’s good, but something’s still worrying you.”
Callum quirked his head at me and seemed genuinely curious. “You can tell already?”
“Even if we, uh, hadn’t been so intimate lately, I’d know.” Most of that answer was stammered out, and I was sure that my cheeks were beet red. He reached out and stroked my thigh, but I retained enough sense of mind to keep talking. “You’re so quiet. That’s not like you, Cal. You’re a complete motor mouth.”
It was obvious he was going to keep trying to brush things off with the innuendo. “You love it when my mouth is moving like a motor all over you, luv.”
“True,” I said, shooting him a glare. “However, you haven’t talked much.”
“Maybe I thought I’d give your ears a bit of rest today.” He was still laying it on thick with his voice a low purr and his lilt in full effect. Damn, that went straight to my clit, but I wasn’t going to let him distract me.
“I’m serious. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Had a bit of an argument with an old friend who isn’t even a friend anymore. Arsehole was all full of hot air, and there’s nothing more to worry about than that.”
I swallowed hard, and my heart fluttered. For a moment, I assumed that meant somehow my dad had found out about us, but that was wrong. It had to be another business associate or friend of Callum’s. Seriously, if my dad knew what I’d be doing this week, he’d already have gotten a flight out here and be making me pack for home. To be fair, it’s not like I could blame him. When I realized it wasn’t about me for once, I took a deep breath and then squeezed Callum’s hand.
“I’m sorry if your friend turned out to be an asshole.”
“Arsehole,” he corrected. “That’s the better word, luv.”
“Still, do you want to talk about it?”
Callum considered that as he picked up his first tumbler and drained it in one smooth swallow. I’d never be able to do that, even if I lived to be a hundred. “Just that I don’t understand sometimes how you can grow up with someone but they can still let you down. We’ve had our ups and downs over the years, but it’s like he’s completely changed. Also, this was not how I intended to start our romantic vacation in the city.”
“Well, I might have messed some of it up by being a lightweight at whiskey.”
He arched an eyebrow at me. “That’s the best part of this.”
“You’re making me tipsy on purpose!”
