He caught my drink and the Snickers.
I stuffed the corn dog wrapped in butcher paper in the back pocket of my jean shorts along with the mustard, leaving my hands free to devour the nachos.
I was following behind him, enjoying my heart-attack-inducing cuisine, when something caught Callum’s eye and caused his head to turn.
He froze, halfway into the crosswalk, his eyes zeroing in on something there.
“What?” I asked, bumping into his muscular arm, nearly spilling my nachos down his back.
He shook his head, his eyes going sad for a few seconds there.
“Nothing.” He paused. “It was nothing.”
I frowned. “It didn’t look like nothing.”
He tilted his head slightly to the side. “Yeah. Just thought it was a guy I served with once upon a time. Guy’s deployed right now, though. No way it could be him.”
I looked over where he’d looked earlier and frowned. “Are you sure?”
He nodded once. “Sure. I have a group of guys that I served with when I was in. Went on multiple tours together. Inseparable. But then I got out because of my sister… and well, I haven’t seen them since. Been a few years now. I just miss them and kind of see them in the crowd sometimes. You know what I mean?”
I did.
“I have a childhood friend that died of cancer when I was seventeen. We were best friends since way back when.” I paused. “I see her all the time, even though I know she’s not here anymore.”
I tilted my head, nacho covered in cheese suspended midair halfway between my mouth.
“What?” I asked.
He laughed and swiped the chip from my hand, bringing it up to my lips. “It’s dripping.”
I leaned forward and brought the chip into my mouth, the tip of one finger pressing against my lips before he released it.
His eyes dilated slightly, and the grin that lit his lips made my heart race.
“Let’s go,” he urged, bringing his finger up to his mouth and licking the cheese off of it.
I felt something deep in my belly stir at the move.
CHAPTER 10
Pigs don’t sweat. So the term ‘sweating like a pig’ is inaccurate.
-Text from Iris to Shine
IRIS
I’d had an excellent rest of my night.
All with one exception.
Bram, Callum’s brother, was drunk.
Off his ass.
So drunk, in fact, that Shine was glaring at him hard and Bram’s wife had left him hours ago in a huff. Slowly thereafter, his brothers had left, too. Eventually leaving me, Bram, Callum, and the occasional Mimi who was coming back and forth in between her track duties.
I’d found, over the course of the night, that I liked Mimi a lot.
She was a sweet, fun, cute little thing that obviously had done the best with the life she’d been given lately.
To the point that I’d invited her out to go eat with me next week for lunch so we could hopefully become better friends.
“Are you sure that you want to leave him like this?” I asked Callum.
Callum tapped his brother with his toe, glaring hard.
Bram was in a bleacher seat, slumped over against the chain-link fence that lined the sides, keeping people from falling to their deaths off the side the farther they rose into the air.
“I’d rather let him vomit all over himself, then choke on it.” He paused. “But I don’t want him to die. So no, I can’t fuckin’ leave him alone.”
I grinned. “Do you have room for him?”
Suddenly, Callum grinned. “I have a kitchen floor that just so happens to belong to me and Lindy.”
“You’d leave him on the floor all night?” I laughed.
“I would if it meant I didn’t have to clean up his puke in the morning.”
“Do you want me to give him a ride to your place?” I asked curiously.
Callum sighed. “I can’t believe those fuckers left me with him.”
“I can’t say that I blame them,” I admitted. “Ride or not?”
In the end, I gave him the ride, happy to find that he didn’t puke in my car on the way home.
But somehow, I knew that Bram would be the one to clean it up in the end.
He wasn’t a bad guy.
He was just in an awkward situation the entire night, from what little Callum had been able to tell me while everyone had been around. So no, I didn’t blame him for getting drunk instead of dealing with whatever it was that was bothering him.
Everybody had their story, and I couldn’t say that Bram and Mimi’s story wasn’t tragic from what I understood.
Callum slowed his speed to manageable levels, allowing me to follow him the entire hour drive home without trouble.
When we arrived at his house, I parked where he’d pointed—in the driveway next to a gold Lexus that I assumed to be Lindy’s—and got out.
We arrived at the passenger side door that Bram leaned against.
“Fucker,” Callum said underneath his breath.
He yanked open the door, and surprisingly, Bram didn’t fall out.