Page 26 of Forgiven

At least she could take his colossal hint to drop the topic.

“Good. I’m starting work in a few minutes, so I can’t chat.” It was a convenient excuse rather than an absolute fact. Heaven and Hell wouldn’t open for another half hour.

“You’ve got a job?”

He curled his lip at the shock in her voice. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t I know?” Molly’s tone was accusing. “Why doesn’tMumknow?”

Callum pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s only my second shift.”

“And? Jesus, Cal, anyone would think you’re trying to avoid talking to us.”

He was—about his job, at least—but he couldn’t admit it out loud. He glanced up as someone moved in his peripheral vision. Dylan had just walked in via the stage entrance.Great. That was just who Callum needed to see. Dylan sat a few tables away and made a show of investigating his nails. He was nowhere near as heavily made up as he had been the night before, but he was wearing mascara, eyeliner, and the faintest touch of lip gloss. His eyebrows looked strong and defined, and contouring had made his cheekbones sharp. He was, beyond a doubt, a really attractive guy.

Callum dropped his gaze to the table, staring at the grain of the wood.

“Cal?”

“I’m not,” he assured Molly, remembering what she’d just accused him of. “I was going to call.”

“When? Next year?”

“Molly—”

“Forget it, Cal. You’re a shit son and a crap brother. Call when you feel like being part of the family again.” She hung up, leaving Callum listening to a dead tone.

He dropped the phone onto the table and wiped his hands over his face. Her words stung every damn time. The one good thing about the conversation was that she’d been too pissed off at him to bother asking any questions about his job.

“Girlfriend trouble?” Dylan asked, moving to a closer table.

“That was my sister.”

“You don’t get on?”

Callum shook his head. He wasn’t going to go into any detail, not with Dylan.

Dylan pursed his lips. “I wanted to apologise.”

“Again?”

“I didn’t actually apologise last night, although I should have.” Dylan dipped his chin.

He seemed different than the previous two times he’d been around Callum—deflated.

“I acted like a jerk, especially last night. You told me you weren’t interested, and I should have let it drop.”

Callum stared at him, not sure what to say.

“I just…I don’t know when to stop,” Dylan went on. “But I’d like to start again, as friends. I mean it this time. No flirting. No teasing. If you need someone to hang out with or talk to, let me know.”

When Callum stayed quiet, Dylan tapped the table and then stood.

“That’s all I wanted to say.” He turned away.

“Wait.”

Dylan paused and half turned, his head cocked slightly to the side in a thoughtful manner.