Page 92 of Auctioned To Be Mine

“Why are you in my kitchen” I asked.

“You always have the good sandwich stuff.” He slapped the sandwich together and took a bite. “Also, I got a call,” he said around a mouthful.

“A call?”

“Said you were up half the night beating the shit out of the punching bag,” he said. “And judging by the way you look, I suspect there was some scotch involved.”

“So you came here to raid my fridge and give me workout advice?”

“Yep. And distract you.”

I groaned and scrubbed a hand over my stubble. “I don’t need a distraction.”

“What happened with Victoria?”

“She wants space,” I said. “Until after the show.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. I think it means she dumped me and is trying to let me down easy.”

He nodded as he chewed. “Okay,” he said finally. “Get changed. We’re going out.”

“I don’t want to go out.”

“I know you don’t. That’s why we’re going.” He waved his sandwich at me. “You need to remember who you are before you completely lose yourself in this. You’re moping around this massive house like a guy who doesn’t have everything.” He gestured broadly at the kitchen. “Get dressed. One drink. We’ll see how it goes. Just don’t punch anything until your get home, okay?”

I stood there and thought about it. I thought about sitting on the couch alone staring at my phone all night waiting for a message that wasn’t coming. Or spending the night drinking while trying to wear myself out with physical exertion.

“Fine,” I said. “One drink.”

Drew grinned. “There he is.”

“Clean up your mess, you savage,” I muttered and walked out.

I showered and dressed without putting much effort into it. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone. I just needed to get out of the house for a while. A change of surroundings would help break the downward spiraling thoughts in my head.

The club was the kind of place I used to like. Dark and loud with low lighting and expensive bottles of liquor. The kind of crowd that showed up to be seen as much as to have a good time. Drew knew the owner. We got a table without waiting, which I appreciated because the line outside was around the block. I was not in the mood to stand in it. I wouldn’t have stood in it, but then again, Blackwells were usually VIPs.

The music was the typical bass stuff with few words. It was loud enough to drown out my thoughts, which was good enough for me. I never really paid attention to the music. Most of the fun came from people-watching.

I looked around. Beautiful people everywhere. Women in dresses that were basically a few scraps of fabric that covered up the fun bits. Men who were groomed to within an inch of their lives and clearly very pleased with the display of skin all around.

It was a Friday night in Los Angeles. The same kind of thing I’d done a hundred times before. It used to be my playground. Me, Drew, and whatever brother was up for a good time. There were plenty of women that noticed us. I was used to it and normally I welcomed it. It was options. Options with no strings. But tonight it didn’t feel the same as it used to.

Drew was already talking to a woman at the bar. He had a gift. I watched him and tried to remember what it felt like to want that. To walk into a room like this and feel the energy of it and think of the possibility. There was a time when I had. It wasn’t all that long ago. I would have been right there beside Drew hitting on one of the other women.

All the bright strobing lights, the loud music, and the dull hum of conversation felt mundane. Blah. Gray. I took a drink of the scotch I’d ordered and turned away from the crowd, looking down at the table instead.

I’m Callum fucking Blackwell. I needed to remember who I was before Victoria had come along and rewired my entire nervous system. The club was the first step in that plan. Unfortunately, the plan was not working.

Drew reappeared and dropped into the seat across from me. He was holding two fresh drinks. He set one in front of me. “Her friend is very pretty,” he said. “Very interested in meeting Callum Blackwell.”

“Not happening,” I said.

He didn’t push it.

I drank and looked around some more. A couple was dancing near the edge of the stage. The woman had her face turned up toward the man and she was laughing at something he said. He was looking at her like she was the only person in the building. They were completely lost in one another.