Page 31 of Already Callin’ You Mine

Edgar

About that. I’m not going to make it. Something came up.

Something came up. Wow. Dude might as well just tell her that he has to wash his hair.

Presley deflates slightly, an almost imperceptible nod paired with a smile that tells me she half expected this. It doesn’t stop her disappointment from seeping through. Or from the whole scene feeling like a punch to my gut. As much as it irked me that she was going out with someone else, I dislike it even more that she’s feeling like this.

Totally understand. Just LMK if you want to reschedule.

She clicks her phone off, not even bothering to wait to see if he responds. She straightens herself out, and I step back quickly, not wanting to give it away that I was still reading over her shoulder.

“Everything good?” Milo asks.

“Little change of plans. He’s running late at work and asked if I could come to Tifton instead.”

Liar, liar, pants on fire. To be fair, she covers it well. If I didn’t know better, I’d believe her. This is something she’s clearly had a lot of practice with.

Gathering up her stuff, she shoves it in her tote bag and slides off her barstool. Her outfit is even more adorable when she’s standing, stealing my attention and frying all reasoning and logic in my brain.

“Well, I’m off,” she announces. Turning to face me, she gives me a pointed look, a cocky smirk tugging at one corner of her mouth. “I will see you Friday at two. And if you’re late, I will find a way to make you pay for it.”

Turning on her heel, she marches out of the bar, the ruffles on the bottom of her sundress swishing back and forth across the back of her beautiful legs.

“I don’t know if you know this,” Milo says, his voice turning brotherly. “But being mean to the pretty girl isn’t going to make her like you. So knock off the third-grade playground antics.”

I scoff. “What makes you think I want her to like me? I want her to leave.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Brandt chimes in, pulling out a keg from under the bar. “You were watchin’ her like you’re a little kid seeing Santa for the first time.”

“Bite me.”

“That sounds like more of a request for Presley.” Brandt chuckles.

I shake my head, picking up my beer and slamming back the rest of it. I’m not sticking around if that’s how these two are going to be. The last thing I need is their shit. I get more than enough of it from Owen.

Pulling out my wallet, I slam a twenty down on the counter, giving Milo a look that I know he’ll understand. A look that tells him to knock it the fuck off. All I get in return is a laugh.

“Keep the change,” I tell him, before turning on my heel and making my way to the door.

Pulling out my phone, I text Owen.

Time for food. See you at the Slice.