Page 21 of His Red Carnation

“Let go of me,” I argued, trying to keep my voice steady.

He ignored my plea. “Tell me, Sloane.”

I sighed, pulling myself free from his grip. “My mom set me up with this guy. Long before we ever…met.” I crossed my arms, staring anywhere but at him. “We’re having dinner downtown.”

Callan licked his lips, his eyes darkening with anger when I finally dared to glance up at him.

He let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “You’re not fucking doing that.”

My mouth dropped open, and I laughed in disbelief right back. “What?”

“You’re gonna go on a fucking date when we just fucked a few hours ago?”

Was he seriously judging me?

“You’re the one who said we can’t do this,” I hissed, feeling my own anger bubbling up. “You don’t get to dictate what I do or who I see.”

Callan fell silent, but the anger simmering beneath the surface didn’t fade. He looked like he was wrestling with what to say next.

“I’m driving you there. And you’re not fucking going anywhere else with him,” he growled before storming toward the stairs. I quickly caught up with him.

“You’re really going to drive me to a date?” I scoffed, trailing him down the stairs.

“Mmhmm.”

Maybe he really doesn’t care about me.I followed him to his SUV, and he held the passenger door open for me, but I brushed past him, opening the door behind the driver’s seat and slamming it shut.

“So, where are you meeting this fuck face?” he asked as soon as he started the engine.

“Downtown. Here.” I leaned forward, typing the address into the built-in GPS, catching the familiar scent of his woodsy cologne as I moved back to my seat.

As the car began to move, I stared out the window, willing Callan to say something—anything. The only thing that kept running through my head was,pull over and fuck me right now.

After a few minutes, he finally broke the silence. “So, who is this idiot?”

I sighed, holding back a smile, enjoying the jealousy in his voice.

“I don’t know. His name’s James. He’s some mayor’s son.”

Callan scoffed, saying nothing more until we reached the restaurant in the heart of downtown.

“Don’t let this fucking kid touch you,” he warned as I opened the door. “I’ll be right here, Sloane—”

I slammed the door shut behind me, cutting him off. Flipping my hair, I glanced back through the window, catching Callan’s scowl.This is such a bad idea.

As I walked into the restaurant, regret hit me instantly—I had no clue what James looked like, and now I felt completely out of place as curious eyes followed me. Pulling out my phone, I shot him a quick text.

I’m here, but I have no idea what you look like.

I scanned the room nervously until I spotted an attractive guy approaching. Brown wavy hair, a big, bright smile with dimples, medium build, taller than me, wearing casual jeans and a bomber jacket.

“Sloane, hey. I’m James,” he said, extending his hand for a shake.

He was cute, but he was no Callan.

I smiled. “Hey.”

He gestured toward the restaurant. “I’ve got a table for us outside. A little more privacy that way,” he explained, sounding a bit nervous.

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