Page 22 of Screwed
Once again, he cursed himself. He could see how arriving at an event like this solo wouldn’t be much fun, but he was way too softhearted when it came to Callie.
She was all apologetic, but he should never have offered to accompany her here. In fact, he had to stay the hell away from her. The last thing they needed was people gossiping about them and word getting back to Beau that Cash was screwing around with his ex-wife. Not that that was happening, but gossip in this social crowd had a tendency to run as wild as a peach orchard hog.
He carried Callie’s drink back to her. The guests soon moved outside to the tent for dinner and entertainment. Of course, dinner was fabulous, and the song and dance numbers were amusing. He loved the smiles of delight Callie flashed him and the amused looks they shared. After dinner, a video presentation highlighted the charity’s accomplishments, followed by entertainers singing and dancing. The last singer blew away the crowd with a rendition of “Let’s Misbehave.” Ha.
There was more partying with a late-night speakeasy theme back in the country club after dinner, but Callie felt she’d done her duty and they could leave.
“Well, at least I’m not carrying you in this weekend.” Cash smirked as he followed her into her house a short time later.
“You didn’t carry me last weekend.”
“How do you know?” When she turned to frown at him, he grinned and touched her nose with the tip of his finger. “Do you remember dancing on the bar at Nebula?”
Her eyes flickered, but her frown intensified. “No, because it never happened.”
“You sure, darlin’?”
“You’re pulling my leg.” She turned and marched into the kitchen, flicking on lights as she went.
He followed her. “Your memories Saturday morning were fuzzy. You admitted it yourself.”
She shook her head. “Not that fuzzy.”
“Okay, okay, I admit I didn’t have to carry you in. Though I did wonder if I should.”
“I overdid it one night, and I’ll never hear the end of it now.” She picked up the box she’d tried to give him earlier and turned back to him. “Maybe I shouldn’t give you these after all.”
“Hey, hey, now. No crazy talk.” He accepted the box and smiled down at her. “I’ve been waiting all day for these.”
Actually he’d been waiting all day to see her, but he couldn’t say that.
“So what time is my tattoo appointment tomorrow?”
Shit. He’d forgotten about that. All evening he’d been telling himself he wouldn’t see her again, but he’d completely fucking blanked out on that appointment. He considered how he might get out of it, but there was no way without looking like a dick. He swallowed a sigh. “Four o’clock. I’ll pick you up about three thirty.”
Chapter Five
Six years ago
Tonight was the big game against Kansas State, the game everyone would be at, the game the team was all pumped for, and Cash was lying in a hospital bed doped up on painkillers because he’d just had his fucking appendix removed. Why now? Jesus.
He rolled his head on the pillow, the hospital bed raised so he was half sitting, and looked out the window. The late-afternoon sun slanted into the room, highlighting the bare starkness of pale yellow walls, linoleum floors, and the ugly vinyl chair in the corner.
His mom had hurried to Austin when he’d had the appendicitis attack, freaking out that he had to be rushed into surgery. She’d stayed with him yesterday and today but had to get back to Houston for work, and he’d assured her he’d be fine. He picked up the remote for the TV and glumly flicked through channels. Zilch. Nothing interested him.
“Hey,” a soft, feminine voice spoke from the door.
He turned his head and blinked, his forehead tightening. What the…?
He had to be hallucinating from the drugs. A princess stood in the doorway of his hospital room. A beautiful, elegant princess with long dark curls, wearing a bright golden ball gown, tight on top, with a full skirt billowing out from her tiny waist. Pink flowers adorned the dress and her hair, and she wore matching gloves that reached up to her elbows. He blinked again.
“It’s me. Callie.” She advanced into the room. “How are you doing?”
His frown deepened. “Callie?”
His best buddy’s girlfriend. He still gazed at her in confusion. “What are you doing here? And why are you dressed like that?”
She smiled and moved closer, seeming to float across the room in that big poufy skirt. “I came to see you. How are you doing?” she asked again.
