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He seems agitated by the situation that just occurred even if he’s trying to hide it and I try to smooth everything over. “Hey,” I say, smiling, ”did you have a good nap?”
His eyes travel across my face then quickly travel to the house on the street across. “What did she say to you? The neighbor?”
I swallow. “She just asked me if I was all right.” And mentioned whether I was here out of my free will as if Callan was some crazy person who had forced me.
“What did you tell her?”
“That I was.” I get a lump in my throat at the lock on his face and he sighs and I notice that he’s dressed in his coat so I add, “Going somewhere?”
“We need groceries,” he says and I stand, straightening my dress.
“I’ll come too.” At first he looks like he’s going to turn me down. After all I could stay here on my own, since this town apparently is ultra-safe but then he nods.
“Aye, I suppose it is for the best.”
Walking down the staircase of the small porch, I murmur, “Callan if someone asks for my name...what should I tell them?”
His eyes dim. “Tell them your name is Melody Byrne.”
My pulse quickens at his response, a motion of heat tingling up and down my spine and I bite my lip, nodding. I’ll do whatever he asks of me and I’m probably more excited than I should be at him wanting me to use his surname.
Does this mean something? I glance at Callan’s profile, with the slightly hooked nose and those hard features of his. Maybe...
On my insistence we decide not to take the car because the grocery store is only a short walk away according to Callan, but pretty quickly I start to wish that we had taken the car. The neighbors are standing in their windows, hiding behind their curtains and spying on us and I shiver.
What in the world is going on? This kind of behavior can’t be only because this is a small town and it’s not because of sheer curiosity. Animosity burns in their eyes when they look at Callan but when they look at me, all I see is pity.
Do they feel sorry for me because I’m with him? Why? And why do they hate him? What did he do?
Searching Callan’s face for answers, I don’t get any. His features are collected and stony, his hands shoved in his pockets and he walks with powerful strides, forcing me to almost run beside him to be able to keep up.
“They’re staring at us,” I murmur and he doesn’t look down on me.
“Ignore them.”
He does it easily as if he’s been ignoring other people’s looks his whole life but for me it’s harder. I don’t want them to look at him like that. He doesn’t deserve it. He’s a good, kind man and I almost want to shake all of them for not seeing what I see.
At the grocery store it’s not much different. We’re still being stared at by the other customers but I decide to follow Callan’s advice and Callan seems pleased by my decision, his shoulders relaxing when the frown on my face disappears.
“Milk,” I say, trying a smile. “I think we need milk.” Callan nods and we walk over to the refrigerator but we reach for the same carton, our fingers meeting and I twitch when my skin zaps from coming into contact with his.
Callan doesn’t say anything, putting the milk in the carrier and when he looks up at me, my mouth drops and I can barely feel the chill from the store. Just a couple of days ago, I could have been the victim of a serial killer. Now I’m shopping for food with the detective who wants to stop him. Funny how life can change like that in a split second.
And I know that this isn’t the most romantic spot with the bright lights and people everywhere but I want Callan to kiss me. I need him like I’ve never needed anyone else. And when I kissed him on his cheek, I felt the texture of his scar underneath my lips.
It didn’t make me recoil, it only made me want more of him and I lick my mouth, whispering, “Callan...”
My whole face and body must be screaming for him to kiss me but he doesn’t move. Desperate for him, I take a small step toward him until our chests brush but to my great shame he abruptly turns, throwing a sharp look around the store.
Confusion burns in my eyes at his rejection and I look down, harshly blinking. I shouldn’t have done it. I don’t know why I tried to get him to kiss me. Maybe I’m nothing but a duty to him, something he has to suffer through...
“I did that for you,” he whispers in my ear, “didn’t want you to do something right in front of everyone that you might later regret.”
Because everyone will view me in a bad light if they think I’m with Callan because I want to be and not because he somehow manipulated me into it? But I don’t care how they view me. I don’t care about my reputation.
“Its fine,” I murmur, shaking Callan off even though he’s not touching me. “It doesn’t matter to me anyway.”
“Melody...” he says in a low, melancholic voice but I pretend not to hear him. With my head held high and my shoulders straight, I stroll through the store, picking out everything I like, including some sour and sweet candies that I haven’t had any ages.
