Callum stopped fidgeting with the label and took another swig of the beer in his hand. He looked sad. For a moment, she wished she had never even brought it up.
“I didn’t mean to—”
“No, it's fine. It had probably been a bad day with my dad that led up to that night. Connor is normally very outgoing and talkative. Well, at least he was. He and I used to be closer. In any other normal situation that didn’t involve my father sitting feet away, I’m sure he would have loved to talk about all things medical.”
Used to be.
“I’m sorry, you don’t have to say any more.”
He gave her a shy smile.
“Since we’re apologizing,” he ran his hands through his hair and took another sip as if he was building himself up for whatever he was about to say, “I guess I should apologize for being a dick that first night at Topline, and then at March Madness, and then the next two shifts at work.”
She tried to hold in the grin at the idea of him apologizing and waited for far too long for the words to leave his beautiful mouth. When none came she nudged him in the side.
“I’m waiting.” She smiled his way and he returned it with an eye roll and a groan.
“I’m…sorry,” he dragged out the words.
She laughed.
“It’s okay. I was kind of a bitch too. And while we’re at it, I’m sorry about your shirt.”
He nodded in response.
She wasn’t sure how long they stood there not really listening to the music before she spoke again.
“How did you and Micah become friends? No offense, but y’all are complete opposites.”
“Yeah. That’s a story. Um…He came into the shop one time because he lost a bet. He had to get some stupid tattoo, and he was scared shitless. Not only about the tattoo, but I think he would have peed himself if I had actually started to use the needle on him. So, I made a deal that I would paint it on him in the back room so his friends would leave him alone about it. I’m not about to do something to someone’s body that they will carry forever if they don’t want it. So, I painted a skunk on his thigh, covered it with Vaseline and a wrap and called it a day.”
Her smile was so broad it made her cheeks hurt.
“Are you serious?” She looked at him to see if he was messing with her, and he nodded while laughing a little. “That’s hilarious.”
“The best part is that I used the wrong kind of paint, by accident. It stayed on his leg for about a month before it finally all came off. He came back the next day when it wouldn’t wash off and he was supposed to meet up with Kristin’s family for the first time. He was in a panic. He ended up wearing long pants…on a boat…on what was probably the hottest day that spring.” Callum started laughing at the memory and for some reason the sound made her stomach feel as though she had just fallen from the top of a coaster. She wanted nothing more than to hear it again. “We started hanging out after that. What about you and Kristin?”
“Nothing special or anywhere near as interesting as your story. We just met in class and were both looking for a new roommate.”
He nodded in understanding, then asked, “Where are you from?”
She took a deep breath unsure of how to get out of that one. “A lot of places?” This was not a conversation she felt like having tonight.
“Are you an army brat?”
She turned to face him. “What’s that?”
“When your mom or dad are in the military and you travel to different bases to live.”
“Oh, no. Not that. I guess I have lived all of my life here in South Carolina. Just hopped around the state every few years.”
“Was it for your parents’ jobs?”
“No. Not really.” She was debating on how to switch to a different topic when they were abruptly pushed further back, causing her drink to suddenly spill on the floor, splashing on them in the process. There was no way they could make it to the bar for napkins, and really, the floor had already been a disgusting mess even before the spill. She had a fleeting moment of concern for their property insurance, wondering if the building was at max capacity, and how many people would end up slipping and falling over the course of the night.
“Sorry!” She turned toward him and began attempting to wipe off the liquid that had landed on his shirt.
He smiled, leaning down a little closer so she could hear him. The bass was so loud it began drowning out all the other voices. “It’s okay. Not the first time you’ve spilled drinks on me.”