Page 7 of Lucky Break
TESS
The second Callumre-enters the bar, he’s practically mobbed by the regulars. Word’s gotten around about our surprise guests, and everyone can’t wait to congratulate him.
I get it. I can’t wait to hug him. To tell him how damn good he was tonight and that he deserves every bit of success coming his way. That he’s meant for bigger things. Because that’s something I’ve always known. I just never had a good excuse to tell him until now.
But the bar is slammed and Lars has me back mixing drinks. By the time I get a chance to breathe, Callum’s already on stage for his next set. Leaning back against the counter, I cross my arms and settle back to take in this performance. Something I do every Thursday night. It’s in these moments I greedily eat him up with my eyes. A sigh leaves my lips as he sings into the mic and strums his guitar. My entire body lights up with awareness. It’s not just his talent, but the confidence in which his hands glide across the instrument. I imagine what it would feel like to have those same hands on my body. His mouth against my skin.Fuck. I wish.
These are the moments I can stare unabashedly without anyone discovering just how much I’m crushing on my best friend. No. What I feel for Callum goes beyond a simple crush.
It’s more like unrequited love.
Not that I’ll ever admit it to him or anyone else. He made his choice years ago. He only saw me as a friend. I watched him fall in love with Celeste, and while I don’t think she deserves him, it doesn’t matter. I’m not the woman who steals someone else’s man. Having him as a friend is enough. At least that’s what I tell myself. An overwhelming longing settles deep in my soul for the one thing I’ll never have. Him.
“I’d like to meet the full cast ofTed Lassofor my birthday.” Parker’s voice startles me.
“Huh?” I reluctantly drag my gaze away from the stage.
“A little birdie told me you make birthday dreams come true.” Parker waggles his brows.
“You’re such a gossip, Parker.”
He laughs, then glances toward the stage. “You’d do anything for that man.”
“I’ll always support my friends.”
“Friend?”
I roll my eyes. Parker isn’t stupid. I shouldn’t be surprised he’s on to me.
Parker shakes his head. “I might be a gossip, but you’re a little liar.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I bat my eyes.
“Sure you don’t.”
Someone at the end of the bar waves to catch our attention, and thankfully Parker lets this conversation go. For now, at least. With one last sigh, I drag my eyes off of Callum O’Neill and throw myself into work.
* * *
It’s stilla good two hours from closing time when Callum ends his final set of the evening. Parker and Ava have clocked out and it’s only me behind the bar. Most everyone heads home to catch some sleep before a day of work, but the diehards remain. They’re the regulars who stay until closing, often drunk off their asses and chatty as hell. It’s funny because if I didn’t work at a bar, I wouldn’t even believe people enjoyed staying out after ten. On my days off, I can be found in comfy pajamas, wrapped up with a blanket on my couch while bingeing the latest crime documentary.
“Tess!” Callum says, sliding into his usual spot at the end of the bar. “How’d I sound tonight?”
I want to rush over. To hug him and gush like everyone else has tonight, but I won’t. Instead, I wipe down the bar and lean forward on my elbows to meet his stare. “Hey.” I attempt to rein in my smile, but it’s impossible when he flashes me one of his crooked grins. “I don’t know, you’re no Katy Perry.”
I’ll never forget the first night he played Twisted Goat, or the girl who kept shouting for Callum to play “Firework.”
He laughs heartily at our shared joke and it’s probably my favorite sound in the world. “Aye. Well, can’t win ’em all.”
“Water?”
“Please.” He nods, then glances at the bottles on the wall. “And maybe something stronger.”
Of course. He wants to celebrate. Not only has he had a big night, but it’s his special day. I’m surprised Celeste isn’t back yet. It was shitty of her not to stick around, in my opinion, but no one asked. Seriously, I don’t understand her. If Callum were my boyfriend, I’d never miss the chance to see him play, especially on his birthday.
But I don’t say any of that. Instead, I reach under the bar and grab for a bottle of Guinness. It’d be better if we kept it on tap, but this is the best I can do. “I promise I won’t get you too drunk.” I pop the top and pour it into a pint before setting it on the counter between us.
“You’re an angel.” He lifts the glass to his lips and takes several long, lazy gulps.
