On My Way To You (Broken Love Duet 2)

“You do have talent. Music and jokes,” he laughs as I sit down.

I finally force myself to look over at Callie. It hurts to look at her for so many reasons. The biggest, however, is that I can barely see a trace of the woman she once was. Her eyes look almost dead at times. There’s no life inside of them.

“Hey, Callie.”

“Hey,” she responds, sounding so timid. Sometimes, Callie has changed so much that I can barely remember the girl who was filled with fire when we were younger.

“Are you having fun?”

“I am. You’ve come a long way from the boy that I had to beg to sing to me under the stars,” she says. Her pale cheeks deepen with color, and for a second, I slip back to a time when things use to be easier and so much better. I smile.

“That’s my little bro. Always afraid of his shadow when we were younger.”

Just like that, my smile completely disappears. I move my gaze upward to stare at the brother that I hate. That hate doesn’t have everything to do with Callie—although it does to a point. Maybe that makes me a bastard, but I’ve long since passed the point where I truly give a damn.

“Mitch,” I respond, stretching back in the seat like I’m perfectly at ease. In reality, it feels like I’d claw through my own skin to get out of here. There’s one thing that Mitch doesn’t have wrong. I truly do hate crowds. It’s just as life kept throwing me lemons, I retreated more and more into my music. Now, the need to put my own music out there has become greater than my hatred of being around people.

“Reed. Haven’t seen you at Mom’s lately,” Mitch responds.

He takes a drink of his beer and sits down—immediately scooting his chair closer to Callie and haphazardly draping his arm over the back of her chair. I can feel the tension around the table. It’s so thick that it could probably suffocate you. I wonder if the others feel it as intensely.

I shrug. “I visit her mostly in the evenings. You’re usually not there,” I respond.

“I work,” he replies, and I smile, my stomach jerking with a silent, jaded laugh. He’s usually drunk. I don’t say that, however. There’s no fucking point.

“They’ve been wanting me to do some sets at the bar. Did you know?”

“Know? Hell, I’m the one that suggested it,” he says, the smile on his face going tight as he takes another drink.

“Really?” I respond, already knowing he’s lying. The manager told me that Mitch informed them I never played local clubs, and he’d already asked me.

“Yeah. Got to do what I can to help my little brother’s side gig,” he says. “I know money has to be tight. Johnson’s old garage isn’t exactly busy these days,” he adds.

The garage stays packed. If anything, we turn business away, but I don’t point that out. The thing about my brother is that he always has to act like the big man on campus when he’s actually nothing better than a weasel.

We stare at one another, the others around the table fading away—at least for me. My focus is just on my brother, almost daring him to show his ass. I know I won’t get that lucky. Hell, even if he showed himself, I doubt Callie would react. I don’t understand his hold on her, and I need to stop trying to figure it out.

“Dude! It’s the Eagles! I love this song,” Katie calls out, interrupting mine and Mitch’s silent standoff. Peaceful Easy Feeling is playing over the jukebox, and I shake my head.

“Do you get excited when I get up there and sing?”

“Do you ever play this song?” she counters, making me laugh. Katie and I have been through a lot. It’s strange how my friendship has grown with her in the last year. It started because I saw how she let Jake go, even though it blew her world apart. I’ve kept her secrets, and there are days I feel guilty about it, but Katie keeps mine, too. We’re allies in a world where we lost our anchors.

“I’ll remedy that,” I laugh.

“Whatever,” she says jokingly with a wink. “Jeff, let’s dance,” she says.

“Babe, I don’t dance,” he mutters.

“You can stand there, put your hands on my ass and look pretty while I sing off key, then,” she responds, making me and Jeff both laugh.

As they get up, Callie looks at Mitch. “How about you and I dance, too? It’s been a while.

“Sure, although if we do, that will leave little brother here all alone without a woman of his own. Then again, that’s the story of his life, isn’t it, Reed?”

“Mitch, stop it,” Callie whispers, sounding sad and horribly embarrassed. I don’t look at her. I’m too busy staring at my brother. I can see the hate in his eyes. When I was younger, I think I ignored it. For whatever reason, I never saw how he really felt about me. That didn’t become clearer until much later—until it was way too late to notice.