Page 76 of Highball Rush
“That’s good. I like doing it.”
Her lips were so delicious, and so close, I decided I didn’t care that my sister was probably staring at us, and kissed her again. Scarlett knew I didn’t have to do this here. We were all in on the truth, so kissing Callie now wasn’t for show.
I pulled back and looked her in the eyes, ignoring everyone else. “Ready?”
“Sure.” Her phone rang and she pulled it out of her bag. “Hang on a second. I should take this.”
I nodded.
She held the phone up to her ear. “Hey, Cole. Are you still in the studio? How’s it going?”
Bowie caught my eye and whispered, “Cole? She isn’t talking to Cole Bryson, is she?”
I shrugged. Cole Bryson was a big deal—famous rock star with millions of rabid fans.
“Yeah, I know it’s hard,” she said, her voice soothing. “But you need to remember, you’ve done this before. Look at those platinum records on the wall. You’ve totally got this.”
Holy shit. Maybe it was Cole Bryson.
She paused again, listening, and her posture changed. Crossing her arms, she widened her stance. “All right, Cole, I get it. But if the album doesn’t feel right, is wallowing in self-pity going to fix it? No, it’s not. The only thing that’s going to fix it is you. So here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to peel yourself off the floor, grab that guitar, and get your ass to work.”
I raised my eyebrows. She sounded like a coach giving her team a fourth quarter locker room pep talk.
“No more excuses,” she said, her voice firm. “I’m serious, quit being a pansy. You’re tougher than this. If I have to fly out there to babysit you in the studio, you’re not going to like it. I will ride your ass day and night until you get that motherfucking album done.”
Everyone stared at her, including me. She mademewant to quit being a pansy. About what, I had no idea, but her tone didn’t leave any room for argument.
She smiled and when she spoke again, she was all sugar. “That’s what I like to hear. It’s going to be amazing. I have faith in you. Okay, we’ll talk soon.” With a satisfied breath, she put her phone away. “Sorry about that.”
I stared at her in awe. She’d gone from sweetheart to hardass take-no-shit woman and back again in the blink of an eye. I was a fucking goner for this girl.
“Dang, you told him,” Scarlett said.
Callie just smiled and slipped her hand in mine. “Shall we?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
No one said anything, but all eyes were on us—or maybe just her—while we walked out.
We left the high school and drove back to my place. I thought about what my brothers had said. We hadn’t talked. I didn’t know where this was going, if anywhere. And the weirdest thing was, I wanted to know. I cared. A lot. And I hadn’t cared about anything this much in a long fucking time.
I parked in front of my house and we both got out. Before we went inside, I stopped in front of my truck and cupped her face in my hands. Kissed her, deeply this time.
“What was that for?” she asked.
“I like you.” I wasn’t ready to start saying the other word, even if I’d thought it a few times. “I know you haven’t been here long, and we aren’t sure what’s going to happen. But this means something to me. I want you to know that.”
A slow smile parted her lips. “This means something to me, too.”
There was that full feeling in my chest again. “So we see where this leads?”
“Yeah. We see where this leads.”
I leaned in to kiss her again, but the crunch of tires coming down my driveway interrupted us. Instinctively, I put myself between Callie and the car, gently nudging her behind me.
A compact maroon two-door with a dent in the bumper on the driver’s side pulled to a stop. A big guy with a dark beard got out and walked toward us.
“Are you Gibson Bodine?”
