Page 97 of Auctioned To Be Mine

“Thank you,” I said. “Callum and I will figure things out after the show.”

He left me alone after that, which I appreciated. I loved that they were all concerned for Callum. And me. I hated that I had hurt Callum, but I firmly believed us taking a break was the right thing to do. His mother agreed, too, which bolstered my confidence in my decision.

I worked until my feet hurt and my back ached. The crew had done everything that could reasonably be done to make everything perfect. I looked around and couldn’t help but be drawn to the wedding corner. Pictures of women in Cleo’s designs were around the space. She was a talented designer.

I stared at a mermaid-style gown. Back when I used to dream of fairytales and weddings, I imagined myself in one of those. Adulthood had changed my shape, and if I ever got married, I would do something far simpler.

I shook my head and walked away from the wedding section. It was time to go home for the day.

35

CALLUM

Isat on my couch with a glass of scotch in my hand, staring at nothing. The bottle was half empty. It had been full yesterday. I couldn’t even remember drinking most of it. I just knew I felt like shit and deserved to feel like shit. I deserved worse, actually.

My phone buzzed on the coffee table. I glanced at it. Another text from Drew. The fifth one today. I couldn’t bring myself to answer. No one wanted to hear my complaining. It had been a self-inflicted wound. I didn’t even want to be around myself. Unlike most people, my misery did not want company.

I took another sip of scotch and winced. It burned going down. I was already thinking about the pizza I was going to order for dinner. Extra cheese. And breadsticks. With ranch. I wanted to go all in. I knew what I was doing to myself and I didn’t care. I was making myself sick. Making myself physically miserable.

For the first time in my life, I’d found someone who made me want more. Someone who made me want to be better. And I’d fucked it all up. No wonder I had never found love before. I didn’t know what the hell to do with it when it was staring me in the face.

The doorbell rang. I ignored it. Drew and Dash knew the code. No one else was needed. I wanted privacy for my spiral.

The doorbell rang again. And again. Someone was holding it down.

“Fuck,” I muttered, getting up. My head swam a little. Too much scotch. Not enough food.

I opened the door to find Drew standing there, arms crossed, looking pissed.

“Finally,” he said. “You locked the door.”

“As if that has ever stopped you before.”

“I wanted to make you get up,” he said with a grin.

“I’m not in the mood,” I said, turning to walk back to the couch.

“Good, neither am I.” Drew followed me in, closing the door behind him. “Shit, it stinks in here. When’s the last time you showered?”

“What day is it?”

“Thursday. The show is tomorrow night, since you seem to have forgotten.”

I hadn’t forgotten. I’d just been trying not to think about it. I was in sweet, sweet oblivion. Okay, it wasn’t exactly sweet, but the darkness of the almost-oblivion was a lot better than the hard edges of reality.

“Have you had a breakdown?” Drew asked, sitting on the chair across from me. “Seriously.”

“Can’t a man have a little personal time?”

“Dude, it’s been a week. Get it together.”

“Fuck off, it hasn’t been a week.”

“Close enough.” He nudged me with his foot. “Now come on. She said you guys would figure things out after the show. It’s time to focus on that.”

I slumped back into the couch. “She’s just going to tell me it’s over.”

“She will if you talk to her looking like this, you slug.” He laughed at his own description of me.