Page 24 of Flights and Sights

“She seemed nice enough. Quiet. That guy’s a douchebag, though.”

“That guy’s the ex.”

He pinched his mouth together. “Oh. Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed his ex was a woman. But…” I raised my eyebrows and he kept talking. “What’s his ex doing at a family reunion?”

“That woman he’s with? That’s Cal’s cousin.”

Tommy’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was.”

“God. Gross.”

“Yeah.”

“You weren’t kidding when you said he had family stuff.” Tommy thought for a few seconds, watching me. “Want me to give him food poisoning or something?”

That made me chuckle. “I wish. Just… I’m going to go home, okay? Can you hold down the fort until closing?”

“Of course. Go. I’ll close up and see you tomorrow. Sound good?”

“Deal.”

I left through the back door, crossing the lot and making my way to the house. The moment the door was shut behind me, I slumped against it and let out a long breath. Fucking Jacob and his fucking girlfriend could go fuck themselves. Working class. What a dick. Who gave a fuck what I did for a living? What anyone does for a living?

Thinking about that brought back memories of my uncle and my grandparents—my dad’s parents—of spending my days after school helping with the meadery, concocting different brews, testing small batches, mixing flavors. Summers in the meadows helping collect honey, going to markets to buy and sell honey and mead, building relationships with meaderies across the country. Doing what I loved.

Fuck that guy, I thought. I toed my shoes off and headed to bed, and as I yanked my shirt off, my phone buzzed.

Callum: Can we get together on Monday? I have some ideas.

I flushed with pleasure knowing he was thinking about me, taking this seriously.

Paxton: Of course.

Callum: Meet me at the library around ten?

Paxton: Sounds like a plan.

With that, I finished changing and got into bed, letting thoughts of Cal, memories of the day, and daydreams of Monday carry me away.

Chapter 12 - Callum

Monday morning, I made my way to the Foggy Basin Public Library and stood out front, my stomach in knots as I waited for Paxton to show up. Charlie had begged to come with me, but I’d shot him down, telling him this was strictly a work field trip, nothing interesting. He’d sighed and resigned himself to finding something to do on his own, and I’d left with plenty of time to spare.

The anxiety was eating me alive. We’d kissed. He’d kissed me, and I’d said “thank you” of all things. Who did that? And now I had to face him, knowing I’d embarrassed myself and bailed on him the minute the kiss was over.

After pacing out front for a while, I decided to head inside, but just as I did, Paxton’s voice called my name. I looked up to see him jogging across the street, a huge smile on his face.

“Sorry I’m late. I had to check on some of the batches of mead in the brew room and I got carried away.”

I shook my head and waved away his apology. “You’re not late. I’m early.” We looked at each other, my chest heating and the anxiety settling down inside me, knots loosening. I cleared my throat and rubbed my stubble absently. “Should we go inside?”

I followed Paxton into the library and we sat next to each other, working on the public computers to research available grants. I had books and printed articles and sample grants spread across a table. I hoped it would all help us to write a few grants successfully and save the property next door so we could expand the meadery and taproom.

I blinked a few times when that thought rolled through my mind. We? Who is we? I asked myself. We’re not together. This is his project. You’re just helping with the paperwork.

By the time I felt confident we’d found a list of grants that we—he—would qualify for, my stomach was growling. I was starving. We were sitting next to each other at a table, heat radiating from Paxton’s body onto my shoulder, and my breath hitched when I leaned in to speak to him.