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“No, he called me a dick tease and said he’d spread it around that I’m a lousy lay, but I just ignored him and got out of there before anything happened. I was so scared, Mr. H.” She begins to cry again and seeing her so upset, affects me in a way that surprises me. Reaching over, I take her hand and squeeze it, letting her know I’m here for her. She jumps slightly when I first touch her, but she raises her eyes to mine and we silently stare at one another. In the dim lighting of the bar, she looks more beautiful than ever before. Even with mascara-stained cheeks.
She pulls her hand free, jumps off her stool, wraps her arms around my waist, and hugs me. The tears come harder and her body physically shakes. Hugging her tighter, I rub my hand soothingly up and down her back.
“Shhhh,” I whisper into her vanilla-smelling hair. “I’ve got you. I won’t ever let anything bad happen to you,” I murmur into her hair and that feeling from earlier washes over me. It’s something I haven’t felt in a very long time but today, it’s slammed into me twice. Calliope is the last person in the Universe I should be thinking about in this way but she’s the first woman I’ve felt anything with since Bitchifer left me … I’m so screwed.
ChapterFive
Standing here in the middle of the bar, crying and breaking down in Mr. H’s arms is not how I expected tonight to go. Then again, I didn’t expect Seth to be such a sleazebag douche-hole dick-stain, but here we are.
My sobs finally subside to a slow trickle of tears and I pull back. Staring up at Mr. H, I tearfully smile at him. “Thank you,” I whisper. He reaches out and cups my cheek, then with the pad of this thumb, he brushes away the tears and for some reason I start to laugh. Pulling away from him, I swipe at my cheeks, leaving my fingertips black from my smudged tear-stained mascara. “I must look like a mess.”
“You look beautiful, Sunshine,” he replies.
His words warm me deep into my soul. Without thinking, I reach down and take his hand in mine and, surprising me, he squeezes it. It’s in that reassuring ‘you’ve got this’ way but still, it tugs at my heart. We silently stare at one another but the moment is broken when the bartender clears his throat. “Can I get you anything else, Mr. Heatherington?”
We each pull our hand away and turn our head to stare at him blankly. He repeats his question and Mr. H turns back to me. “Did you want anything?”
“A time machine to not go on that date.” The barman and Mr. H both just stare at me. Shaking my head, I sigh. “But a glass of red would be nice.”
“Coming right up.”
The barman walks away to get my drink and I climb back onto the stool. Reaching over, I grab the remaining drink and chug it back. Mr. H is still silently staring at me. “What? You said I could have it if I told you what happened on my date, and I did.”
He shakes his head and smirks as he takes a seat next to me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Looking over at him, I nod. “I’m fine now. I have no idea why I called you.”
“I’m glad you did. I hate the thought of you being upset and alone.”
“It’s New York, you’re never alone,” I reply, bumping his shoulder.
The bartender places my glass in front of me and without prompting, refills Mr. H’s tumbler that I just finished. Picking the glass up, I bring it to my lips, close my eyes, and inhale. A smile appears when the scent of cherries and plums hit my nasal passages. Tilting the glass up, I take a sip and moan as the fruity tannins dance on my taste buds. Reopening my eyes, I see Mr. H watching me. His gaze drops to my lips and he watches as my tongue darts out and swipes across before I bite the corner nervously. “Sorry,” I shyly say, “that’s a good red. Being a student, it's been box wine for me for the last three years.”
“I remember the days of cheap beer and mac and cheese.”
“Whoa there, big spender, ramen noodles is my staple these days. Mac and cheese is expensive and only called for when celebrating.”As of late that is never. How I’m going to get through the next year without dying of malnourishment from only eating ramen, drinking coffee, and the occasional boxed red, I have no freakin’ clue. Yes, you do, take up Nicole’s offer and dance your way into less financial stress, amazing, yummy food, and non-boxed wine.
He scrunches his face up at my statement. “Are you having money troubles, Calliope?”
Shaking my head defiantly, I laugh. “No, no, I’m fine.” But I can tell from the look on his face he doesn’t believe me. “Seriously, Mr. H, I’m fine. I’m just your typical broke student.” He nods but we both know I’m full of shit right now, so I try again. “Really, Mr. H, I’m fine and I’m fully aware that when someone says they’re fine they are usually anything but fine, but I assure you, I’m fine. It’s all good.”
“Okay, fine,” he replies, and we both laugh when he realizes that he too just said fine. “You know what I mean, brat.” He playfully bumps into my shoulder and I’m assaulted with his scent: sandalwood and leather. Then he shocks me when he says out of nowhere, “Dance with me?”
Staring at him, I blink rapidly. My heart rate accelerates. My mouth becomes dry. To show he means it, he stands up and offers me his hand. A force takes over and on autopilot I place my hand in his, and like earlier today when we touched, an electrical current zaps between us. Sliding off the chair, he holds my hand tighter, and we walk over to the little dance floor off to the side of the bar.
There are a few other couples dancing so it’s not completely weird that he just asked me to dance. The current song stops and then “Just the Two of Us” by Grover Washington begins. Mr. H spins me out and pulls me back into him and as if we’ve done this a million times before, my arms go around his neck and he rests his on my hips. Locking into place as if it’s where they belong.
Resting my head on his shoulder, I close my eyes and we sway to the music. My shit evening fades away and I focus on this moment. I focus on dancing with Mr. H and how amazing it feels being in his arms.
“You Are My Sunshine” begins to play and Kane begins to quietly sing it into my ear. His voice vibrating through my body. Lifting my head, I stare up at him. “Thank you,” I murmur.
“Why are you thanking me?”
“For this. For making me happy—”
“When skies are gray,” he adds, causing us both to laugh. He starts to sing again but this time he refers to me, Calliope, as his sunshine and I have to admit, my little crush on Mr. H is beginning to blossom further right now.
“I’ll dance with a pretty girl any day of the week, but I’ll only sing to a special one.” He winks and then continues to sing, “You are my sunshine …”
