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“This chick,” Isabel clucked. I turned in search of a lowball.
“I’m gonna go ahead and start the drinking now.”
With help from Logan, Isabel and several of Oz’s lady friends, we killed two bottles of ten-year-old Fine Oak and luckily, by the time we were too drunk to pose, the crew had gotten enough shots to pack up and call it a day. But the more than sufficient buzz was doing little to help my mood. I couldn’t alleviate my own disappointment. I’d been hoping to be the one Callum touched this evening. The one whose knee he put his hand on. I had held out for it all day and for some reason took our flirty looks and flat-out gaping of each other as a sign that tonight was it.
But now he was ignoring me to let Ana Hale stick around longer than everyone else and murmur into his ear. She sidled up next to Callum while Logan cleaned up, crossing her legs so that her skirt slid up her thighs and her foot hooked behind his leg. I could feel my insecurity rise as I watched, leaning over the balcony of the VIP mezzanine, where I’d escaped to indulge my negative thoughts. Callum hadn’t said anything this morning about being exclusive. He had said he’d try to get us back to us but there had never been a name for our relationship so I didn’t even know what that meant.
“Don’t worry.” Oz scared the shit out of me by coming up out of nowhere. I clutched my racing heart but managed a reply.
“If you’re telling me not to worry, it means you see it, too.”
“That he’s letting her flirt with him? He’s only being nice so she’ll write good things about us.” Oz leaned over next to me. He was so tall the railing only reached below his belt and I feared he’d topple right over it. “I’m sure I’m breaking some brotherly code by telling you this but I’ve never seen Callum look at anyone – anything the way he looks at you. He doesn’t give a shit about anything besides Caroline, work and if I’m lucky, me.” He cracked a little smile. “Sometimes Logan, when he isn’t being a shitebag. Point is, you came back and it all changed.”
“Yeah?”
“You don’t believe me?”
“Maybe if you go into more detail.” The two lowballs of whisky had my voice sounding low and jaded but that worked well to get Oz to talk. He shrugged his wide shoulders.
“I’ve just never seen him like this before.” He ran a hand through his long hair, quite possibly silkier than mine. “I know I’ve only known him for about five years but I’ve seen him the most in that time and I know that when he cares about someone, he doesn’t show it. Unless it’s you. Then he can’t fucking help it and trust me, he’s trying. But I can still hear it in his voice, I can see it in his eyes. I’ve seen more expression in that face of his these past few days than I have in the past five years combined, so if I were you, I wouldn’t waste my worry on little Ana over there. If Callum wanted her, he’d had her over the sink in the bathroom right now.”
“He could have me there now but he won’t make a move.” I was either too drunk or bitter to censor myself. It was one or the other. Oz grinned as we gazed down at Callum.
“Eh, matter of time. I’m his business partner and I know that Cal’s used to being in control. But he’s got none of that around you. He doesn’t want to give it up so he’s just taking it slow and you should take that as a good sign. He values his time. He’s not the type to stand and stare and wait around for fun. The Cal I know usually sees her, fucks her and carries on the next morning.” Oz wagged a long finger at me. “But not with you, lassie.”
“Charming. But as flattered as I am, I’m not sure I can wait any longer.” I really couldn’t. The time preceding my return to New York had been, in an understatement, hell on earth. I’d had the occasional fling or one-night stand in my six years away from Callum but the past year had seen nothing. I hadn’t planned it that way. I barely even noticed while I was at Sunstone because sex was the last thing on my mind. I was just trying to keep myself positive enough to keep fighting – to keep battling that quicksand so I could stay above just enough to breathe, to keep myself from drowning completely in the misery. Pleasure was a foreign concept when my daily goal was to survive long enough to get away. It wasn’t till the flight into LaGuardia that I tallied up the months of my dry spell. Thirteen.
Six years away from Callum, thirteen months since I’d had sex and a world of torture as I finally let myself think about how badly I needed it.
“Christ, woman.” I must’ve been wearing the need on my face because Oz’s green eyes were suddenly staring in awe. “He’s lucky he’s my best mate or I’d already have your dress on the floor and you naked on that wall.”
My eyebrows flashed. “Wow. Oz.”
“Just a man of truth,” he laughed – and apparently loud enough to get Callum’s attention because suddenly, he looked up at us with narrowed eyes. Oz looked. “Aw, look at the poor man. He thinks I’m telling you things I shouldn’t be.”
“You are.”
“That is true.”
I smirked down at Callum, taking too much pleasure in his sheer discomfort. I liked that he shook his head at me, looking pissed off when we locked eyes. It was twisted but that familiar expression got my blood rushing to all the right spots. Suddenly, I’d decided that I was going to get exactly what I wanted from him tonight. I needed it. I really did. Soon, deep and hard, and I was willing to be a little ruthless to swing things in my favor. Callum was the one I’d picked up that trait from.
“Keep going, Oz. Tell me things he doesn’t want me to know.”
“Uh, I’d love to but…”
“Just pretend. I want to get him a little angry.”
“Oh, you’re a sick little puppy, aren’t you?” Oz wet his lips with wicked fascination. When I shrugged, he laughed. “That’s okay, I’m good at this game. Let’s start with a little whispering to get him nice and worked up,” he murmured, leaning in so close his long hair spilled over my arm. He grinned when I whispered gibberish in his ear. “Aw, you don’t like that do you?” he called down to Callum. “I bet you like this even less.” He draped a long arm around my shoulder, his forearm resting heavy on my breast. My mouth dropped and I looked at Oz, who let his tongue loll visibly behind his parted lips as his fingers stroked the side of my ribs. Callum’s stare followed Oz’s graze on my skin, looking a second from doing something.
But then he sneered and laughed.
“Fuck. He’s trying to be good in front of the reporter lady,” Oz muttered to me before leaning into my neck. He pushed my hair back and inhaled with deep exaggeration. “Like roses she smells!”
Across the room, Logan paused in the middle of cleaning. “I feel like you should stop.”
“Aw, shut it, ya bawbag!” With that utterly romantic phrase, Oz grabbed me, smashed a hot kiss on my lips and pulled me clean out of view. I gasped, pressed to his massive chest, our whisky breath mixing as I heard table legs skidding violently downstairs. Then came the footsteps. My heart beat fast. They belonged to Callum. “Oh, I’m gonna get it,” Oz whispered giddily into my mouth. Once we heard Callum reach the top step, Oz squeezed a handful of my hair.
And just like that, it was on.
