Page 24

23

Calista

After

“This is ridiculous,” I mumbled.

Every time I looked in my rearview mirror, Fane started waving like a maniac, or blowing kisses, or holding up his hand in half of a heart.

Naturally, I just held up my middle finger back, but the gesture just seemed to spur him on. Like in his head, that was the equivalent of me holding half a hand-heart up back.

Two minutes into the seven-minute drive to the café, I caved and called him.

“Hey, baby.”

Fane’s rough voice wrapped around me. It was the equivalent of a soft landing, of hands moving through your hair. Of fingertips gliding up and down the bare skin of your back.

He’d answered the phone just like that—every single phone call for two years—and for a second I was thrust back to right then. Submerged completely in everything else that came with it.

“Cali?”

“Don’t call me baby.” My heart was thundering in my chest, and I hated he knew what he’d done to me, purely by the sharpness of my voice.

“You called?”

I flicked my eyes up to the rearview to find him right as rain, completely unrattled.

“This isn’t necessary.”

“What isn’t?”

“You’re tailing me like private security.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” I looked up to see him holding up the half of a heart with one hand again and sporting a lopsided grin.

“What are you doing?” I snapped.

“It’s half a heart.” He sounded genuinely concerned that I didn’t know that.

“I know what it is, Fane. I mean, why are you doing it?”

“Are you going to tell me what happened yesterday?”

“No.”

“Well, then I won’t tell you why I’m doing half a heart.”

“You’re acting like a child.”

“Ah, yes. A big, buff, gym baby. How could I forget?”

“You’re just proving my point.”

“You can flip me off again if you want. It’s kind of a turn-on.”

“There’s something wrong with you.”

“Yeah, all the blood in my body has rushed straight to my d—”

I hung up the phone call and lifted up my middle finger until I saw Fane run his tongue along his top teeth and mouth, “Give it to me, ” with way too much enthusiasm.

The only benefit of being the car in front was that he couldn’t see me smiling like an idiot and swallowing down random little chortles of laughter that kept trying to escape my body. The force of withholding them making my eyes water.

The truth was, I was glad he was following me in. I also didn’t hate that he ran with me yesterday.

Yes, I knew that feeling anything remotely positive about being near or around him was actively working against my pledge to loathe him with the fire of a thousand suns, but Fane had always been the embodiment of feeling like you were home. Safe and warm and right . No matter what my brain knew, my body hadn’t quite been able to forget that.

I parked my car down the alley next to the café and around back where I always did. The space spanned behind all the businesses and shops along the main street.

Fane was idling right outside the alley when I walked back onto the street.

“I’ve got some work stuff to do today. I’ll be back at closing.”

“You’re not staying?” I sounded disappointed, and I wanted to disappear entirely when I tacked on a little “Yay!” at the end to try and cover that fact.

“I’d tell you to keep your panties on, but we both know you’re not wearing any.” He winked at me. It wasn’t just a regular wink. It was the wink of all winks. This sexy, smooth, and effortless-looking thing that would have absolutely ruined my panties..if I had any on.

I did my best to get through the day, like I couldn’t feel the response my body had to Fane making a mess of my thighs.

When Gus walked in, it was the perfect opportunity to take back control of my day by using my word of the day.

Okay, yes, I had to Google it, but I had no issue using it in a sentence, and that felt like a win I really needed.

The moment Gus placed his regular order, I pounced. “Gus, you’ve made a felicitous choice!”

He proceeded to look from me down to his already stained shirt and then asked, “Is it on me?”

“What? No. It’s my word of the day.”

“Is this like when you were phlegmy a couple weeks ago?”

I handed Gus his coffee and cookies with a tight-lipped smile. “Yes, Gus.”

“Right.” He picked up his order before giving me a serious look and said, “Well, I’m glad it cleared up.”

The rest of the day was just like that; the embodiment of climbing a flight of stairs and taking an extra step when you’d already gotten to the top.

My dad arrived in his usual time slot as second customer and asked about Fane. Asked if we got the lasagnas he’d dropped off, and said that Ashton–who he was still calling Aleron much to my delight–was an “outstanding kid” who was now expected at all future family dinners.

I was typing out a message to Fane to ask for Ash’s number just as Mags walked in, right on time, but looking like someone had rained all over her parade.

“Mags?” I tucked my phone away and rounded the counter. “Are you all right?”

She sat down and let out the most exaggerated sigh I’d ever heard. It was hard to tell whether she was up to her old tricks or if she was in a real state of panic, which forced you to take her seriously one hundred percent of the time.

“The stall for Mags’ is all set to go at the fair like every year.”

“That’s awesome!” I smiled at her, taking the seat across from her.

“Except my bartenders pulled out.”

“All of them?” She had like five of them.

“Every single one.”

“I’m so sorry, Mags. Could Delilah fill in? Or you said Dylan is staying with her, maybe him?” I hadn’t seen Dylan since we were in high school, and Delilah had never poured a beer in her life that was drinkable.

She waved me away. “She can’t pour a beer to save her life.” It turned out this was one of those times when Mags was actually not in a state of panic, but rather in the midst of yet another diabolical plan. “Say, what about that guy of yours?”

“My…Fane?”

“I remember you saying he used to be a bartender.”

“I don’t think I—”

“Perfect, it’s settled. You two will man the tent! You won’t need to do a thing. It will be there and set up, ready for you to go. Just pour the beers and collect the cash.”

“Wait, Mags—”

“Oh, I do appreciate it, sweetheart.” She leaned over the table and patted my cheek in the same tender way she’d done my whole life.

“You’re not staying?”

“I’ll be back later! Have an appointment for my hair.”

And then she was gone and I’d been once again delicately manipulated into doing her bidding. The rest of the day was more navigating the new normal of a busier day while simultaneously getting more and more excited about the prospect of telling Fane that he would be tending a bar tent at the Darling Autumn Fair in just over a week.

It felt like getting a universe version of Fane’s panty-melting winks.

I finished cleaning with a little grin on my face, officially excited about being roped into Mags’s shenanigans after having the day to strew on it and think about how I could both gently torture Fane and also use the experience to my advantage.

After locking up I looked around, but I didn’t see him out front. It was only once I walked back down the alley beside the café did his truck roll into view, right on time.

My heart tripped over itself, stuttering in a way that felt sharp and heavy. The sight of Fane—right there, so real, so grounded—did something to me that I couldn’t name, and it frustrated me that I didn’t hate it as much as I should’ve. He wagged his fingers at me, that ever-infuriating smirk tugging at his lips, and I responded with a dramatic roll of my eyes. Too easy. Too natural.

Then I saw it.

I was three steps away from my car when I saw it—a piece of paper tucked under the windshield wiper. My heart lurched, slamming into my ribs with a force that left me breathless.

I knew Fane was watching me. I could feel his eyes on my back. Knew he’d see even the smallest way I tensed up.

I knew what it was before I even picked it up, but I forced myself to unfold the paper and read the crudely written words.

That was fun, wasn’t it? I told you I love to play.

I felt his words like a noose tightening around my throat. My resolve, the very same I’d demanded of myself the morning after he’d chased me, felt brittle. Made even more so by the trembling in my hands.

I folded the note back up, stuffed it in my back pocket, and whipped my head around to see what I already knew would be happening.

Fane. Door open. Half out of his truck, and a storm brewing behind those wild violet eyes.

That look. I knew it. Controlled fury, tempered by something more dangerous. Something I refused to acknowledge.

Quickly unlocking the car, I jumped in and shoved the key in the ignition. I pulled the note out of my pocket where I knew he saw me put it and shoved it to the back of the glove compartment like the thing was made of hot coals. I didn’t glance back. I didn’t let my eyes so much as flick to the rearview mirror.

The car jolted into drive, and I pulled out without looking back. I couldn’t.

Even as my hands shook and my body tingled with the sensation of a thousand tiny ants crawling just under my skin. Even as the irrational thought struck me that there was someone in my back seat, breathing down my neck.

I knew there was no possible way for him to be hunting me while I was in my car, but still, I swear I could hear the way his shoes slapped on the road behind me, gaining on me no matter how fast I drove.

Fane couldn’t know. Couldn’t think it was his responsibility to step in. Not because he wasn’t capable, but because I wouldn’t let him. Whatever guilt he felt for the past, whatever silent penance he thought he owed, it didn’t give him the right to become entangled in this.

Declan wanted a reaction, but I wouldn’t give it to him—not through Fane, not through anyone.

I forced my lungs to pull in air and lifted my chin. Rolled back my shoulders and kept my eyes on the road in front of me. My fingers were still trembling, but I tightened them on the wheel, forcing that steadiness into my grip.

The weight of it made me want to crumble, but I had carried much worse.