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15
CALLIE
“You want another one?”
I puff out my cheeks, feeling the alcohol buzzing through my veins and heating my face. It’s noon, and I’ve already had two of the double vodka sodas this place serves in pint glasses.
“Ehhh…”
Stavros chuckles. “Aww, c’mon, Callie. Live a little.”
I roll my eyes, a grin on my face. “I know, you’re right. But I should head home soon.”
“For what?”
I groan. “Trust me, you donotwant to know.”
He shakes his head, his smile faltering a little as he pushes his dark hair back from his handsome face. Stavros is a good-looking guy, with strong genes, enviable bone structure, andgreathair. I remember Tomas always bitching about never getting any girls while his brother was out charming half of New York.
“Gotta get back and into the housewife role, huh?”
I shoot him a look. “Fuck you. That’s not fair.”
He shrugs. “Hey, man, you’re the one who got married.” He looks away, his face darkening. “To a fuckingKildare.”
“It’s complicated, all right?”
I’m sure most people who know me—or Castle, for that matter—and who are aware of the situation with the Carveli family are clear what this marriage is. I mean it’s not like Castle and I were even dating or anything, and suddenly, boom, we’re married? Come on.
But people can have as many suspicions as they like. The important part is, neither Castle nor I can lend any weight to those suspicions.
“Complicated?” Stavros scowls. “More like a hostile takeover.”
“Excuse me?”
“I mean, first Ares, and now you?”
The alliance between my family and the Kildares has been great for everyone. But, there’s always a few disbelievers, and you’re never going to please everyone.
Stavros is very much one of the “displeased.”
He wasn’t a fan of the Irish to begin with. But then, when his brother Tomas participated in that unsanctioned hit attempt on Neve, and Ezio had that brother killed in retaliation for it, things got even worse. These days Stavros tolerates working alongside and keeping the peace with the Irish, but only because he has to.
He also makes sure that’s not even a little bit of a secret.
“I mean Callie, I seriously don’t get how you manage to hang out with them.”
“Elias—”
“Hang on, I’m getting us another round.”
He gets up from our table in the corner and stalks across Jessie’s Place—a dark and dingy dive bar in midtown that Ilove. For bonus points, they’ve historically not checked my ID, which actually just blew up in my face a little when Stavros and I ordered our first round, and he decided to mention to Jessie herself, possibly in the hopes of getting us a couple of freebies, that I’d “just turned twenty-one.”
Oops.
While he’s getting our drinks, I pull out Castle’s phone. I glare at it as I type in the passcode that I watched him input this morning in the kitchen before he left it behind.
I know. This is bad. Straight up crazy, even. And I know deep down I have zero right to be snooping in his phone or upset about anything I might find. Except, the crazy part of me has already rationalized it by telling myself that we’re married—that Castle is my damnhusbandnow. And given that he is, when he leaves his phone behind and it starts blowing up with texts and selfies from someverycute and veryyoungblonde girl?
