by T. E. Black
I agreed to wear Mac’s clothes home since he confiscated my dress and shoes from the night before. I absolutely made him carry me. He wasn’t getting off the hook that easy. Hey, he wants to go all macho man and refuse to let me wear my clothes, he pays the price.
The ride home was too quick. I was a little nervous to tell Sierra and Evan about us, but I assumed when Mac carried me through the front door like he was carrying his bride over the threshold for the first time, in his clothes, they would figure it out pretty quick…and they did.
As soon as Mac opened the door, I heard whistles and hoots coming from the kitchen where Sierra and Evan sat drinking coffee. When Mac set me down, Sierra came barreling at me like a mad woman, hugging me so tightly I swear she cut off the air to my lungs. She gushed about how cute we were together and how happy she was for us. She even hugged Mac, but not before telling him if he ever made me cry again she would make him a woman. After all, what are best friends for?
Evan congratulated us too, also complaining about how he would now play housewife for the next couple weeks because of his bet with Sierra which we made him lose. Serves him right for making stupid bets.
Mac and I had a connection from the moment I met him. Somewhere deep down, I knew I could fall in love with this man, and I did. Denying it did me no good. I was nothing against his charm.
Mac told me while I was looking for my clothes, he sent Trent a text and made an appointment to get my tattoo done. I’m so excited for him to see what I’ve chosen, but I’m keeping it under wraps to surprise him. I plan on getting something he said once. Not one of his vulgar comments, but something real and meaningful. I can’t wait until he sees it.
He made the appointment for tomorrow and said we’d have the entire shop to ourselves since Trent rarely opened on Sundays. That made me feel better because I really don’t want a bunch of strangers witnessing me crying like a child.
I kiss Mac goodbye a little longer than I mean to, but I can’t help myself. I don’t want him to leave. Sierra talked the boys into going out themselves tonight, giving her and I much needed girl time. I know she will grill me about Mac, but I don’t even care.
"Spill!" Sierra squeals, taking a seat next to me on the couch.
I cuddle up in an odd but comfortable position on the couch, filling my mouth with popcorn. Sierra shoots me an annoyed glare. She knows I’m stalling, but I can't help it. I want to tell her about everything, but I'm selfish. I want to keep the memories to myself. I don't want to share Mac with anyone.
"I know you two obviously screwed like wild animals all night, but I want all the events which led up to that."
I swallow my mouthful of popcorn, giving in to her demands.
"Well, after he went all Hulk on Chase at the party, he got me in his truck and just drove. I was so mad at him, Sierra. I kept thinking, who does this guy think he is? You know? Then he pulled over on the side of the road, and he exploded on me. He kept telling me about what those frat guys do for fun to women..."
Sierra's face turns apologetic while I linger.
"Yeah…Evan told me…I didn't know Cal. I wouldn’t have suggested you hang out with Chase. If Mac didn't show up..."
I swallow back tears at what could have transpired, but I decide it's in the past. There's no use crying over spilled milk, and that’s exactly what it all was. A mess which was already cleaned up.
"It's fine. Mac basically told me he wanted to be with me, and he would make us work. Then he took me to his apartment, and showed me just how much he loves me..."
My cheeks redden at the thought of Mac all sweaty, his muscles, and his dirty talk.
"HE TOLD YOU HE LOVES YOU?" Sierra yells from across the couch excitedly.
I laugh at her. It's not like she didn't already figure it out, but I think hearing it come out of my mouth makes it real for her. It makes it real for me, too.
"I love him too.”
Sierra squeals, tackling me against the couch cushions. I laugh, trying to bat her away, but she won't stop squeezing me, rambling on about how she's so happy for me, and double dates, and double weddings. She's in her element right now. Always wanting me to be happy, and I finally am. I'm truly happy. I haven't even written anything in my Post-It app since Mac because there's no need to. I have everything I could ever need here and more. I don't feel sad, I don't feel guilty. My smiles are real compared to the ones I plastered on my face before. I feel like I have a home.
"Oh my God! This is perfect! See, I told you that dress would come in handy! Mac saw you in it, and he couldn't help himself," she gushes at me. "Speaking of which, where’s your dress? You came home in Mac's clothes."
I let out a loud laugh, covering my face with my hands. She's going to be like a filthy pig in mud when she hears what he did with it. I'm still a little shocked myself, but it gives me some strange vow of confidence he felt I looked so good in it that no man beside him should ever see me in it again.
"He stole it, and then told me the only time I will wear that outfit again is for him."
Sierra's mouth falls agape, and she squeals again, but louder again.
"That’s the hottest thing I've ever heard!"
I shake my head at her, raising my eyebrows in a challenge.
"You have no idea how hot he is, Sierra."
Evan and I headed to Max's after the girls kicked us out, and as much as I wanted to stay with Callie, I figured it would be good to get out with the guys anyways. We bullshit with Ryleigh while we wait for Trent to get here. I swear the fucking guy doesn't have any sense of time. He texted us saying he'd be here in a half hour. That was an hour ago. We hear the bell on the door ring as Trent and his buddy Gunner, from the tattoo shop, walk in. They come around to the bar, pulling up a couple stools.
"Yuz will never believe what this tool," Trent nods his head toward Gunner, "did! This dumbass hired some crazy bitch to be our receptionist!"
Gunner snorts out a laugh, defending himself.
"She's not even crazy, you asshole. You just hate her because she doesn't take your shit."
Trent shoots him a glare before Gunner continues to tell us how he politely offered to clean out her cobwebs for her, which in turn got him a slap across the face. It really comes as a shock that Trent didn't get bitched slapped until now for using some of his pick up lines. They’re legendary, but to chicks, that shit’s offensive as fuck.
"Sounds like you've met your match," I joke, letting out a deep laugh.
Trent scowls, picking up his beer Ryleigh sent his way.
"I fucking hate that bitch. She may be smoking hot, but she's fucking stupid. Her name is even stupid. Shay. What the hell kinda name is that? I swear, the first chance I get to fire her ass without having a lawsuit on my hands, I'm taking it. I came in today to set up for my client, and all my shit was fucking organized! It took me a gawddamn hour to find my gloves, and when I asked the dumb bitch where they were, she said she couldn't remember where she put them! Don't touch my shit, and then maybe ya'd remember where the fuck it is!"
We all laugh at the hissy fit he's throwing right now because we all know this has nothing to do with the chick touching his shit. It does though, have everything to do with her turning him down.
I take a long pull from my bottle, trying to make Trent untwist the panties he’s wearing tonight.
“We still on for tomorrow?” I ask him.
Trent nods his head, chugging the contents of his bottle.
“Yeah, yeah, we’re still good.” He waves his hand in dismissal. “You know, I can’t wait to get my hands on that sexy little body of hers. Those tits man…”
I feel my expression turn serious as I cut him off snapping at him aggressively.
“Don’t even think about it mother fucker. She’s mine. I swear to all that’s holy, if you even look anywhere except at her tattoo, I’ll knock you the fuck out, man.”
Trent’s face twists with confusion, and he questions.
“She’s yours? Since when
?”
Evan chimes in from next to me, loving this shit. He grilled me about Callie and me as soon as we got here. He’s a good guy, and he knows what’s it’s like to be harassed constantly for settling down with a chick.
“They sealed the deal last night,” Evan states.
Trent groans, throwing his hands up in the air.
“Ya gotta be fucking kidding me! First I get stuck with crazy bitch at the shop, now ya steal the woman of my fucking dreams before I even get to let her ride the train. I can’t fucking win.”
As pissed off as Trent makes me, I can’t help but laugh at his words. The woman of my fucking dreams. Guess I’m not the only one who felt that way. I shake my head at him, signaling for Ryleigh to come over.
“What’s up boys?”
I flick my head toward Trent, chuckling.
“Trent here is gonna be buying the next round, so break out the expensive shit.”
“No, I’m—”
“Yes, you are if you don’t want me to snap your neck in a bar full of witnesses for talking about my girl like that.”
Ryleigh gives a knowing glance while she nods her head, turning away.
“Expensive shit. Gawt it!”
I slept good last night, and that's saying a lot being I've been lacking it for a while now. Mac stopped in to see me when he and Evan got home from the bar, but he didn't end up staying long. He had to check on Nook since he was gone a good portion of the night.
Hopefully, she didn't eat any more doors.
I didn’t want Mac to leave last night. I almost seduced him into staying, but space seemed like a good idea since this is so new. I don't want to get too clingy. When you get clingy, you're more prone to getting your heart broken, but I'm already in the danger zone the way it is.
Mac called me earlier to tell me he'd be over around two so we could head to the tattoo shop. I'm freaking out about getting it done. I'm nervous Mac will be thrown for a loop when he sees what I'm getting. When I heard him say it, I knew it would be my first tattoo. I may have hinted around to him what it would be, but it's still a mystery to him as long as Sierra didn't open her big mouth.
I head downstairs and see Evan sitting at the kitchen island like he usually does. He hears me coming, setting down the paper he's reading.
"Big day," he announces amused.
I start to get more nervous thinking about what I'm doing. I know tattoos are no big deal for some people, but to me it's huge. I'm going to be stuck with whatever I choose for the rest of my life. Therefore, I don't want it to be a mistake. What happens if Mac and I go our separate ways? Am I going to resent getting something that came out of his mouth once upon a time? Am I going to resent it because every time I look at it, it will remind me of him? I blow out a long breath, stopping my head from spinning. This is what you want Callie. Stop over-thinking it.
My wheels stop turning when I hear the front door open, followed by the stomping of those sexy work boots I've learned to love come inside. Mac sees Evan and me in the kitchen. He makes his way toward me, scooping me up in a bear hug.
"Hey baby," he breathes into my hair.
This man does serious things to my heart. He's so tough looking on the outside, yet so kind and loving on the inside. I feel my stomach flip with excitement.
"Hi yourself." I look up at him with a gleaming smile.
He sets me down, giving me a soft kiss on the mouth as he looks me over before he makes a disapproving noise, shaking his head.
"There is no way in hell you're wearing that."
I stare at him wide-eyed, huffing out a breath.
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing? I'm not changing. It's shorts, and a t-shirt Mac."
His eyes fill with jealousy and he shakes his head again.
"Trent will be all over you for Christ’s sake. Just please put on some damn pants Callie. I don't feel like having to beat the shit out of my best friend today."
I cross my arms over my chest standing my ground. There is no way in hell I'm changing. If he’d asked me to like a civilized human being, then I would’ve humored him, but now he can kiss my cute little ass.
"Nope," I state flatly.
I can see how much this pisses him off because he runs his hands roughly through his hair, giving it a little tug. I noticed he only does it when he's frustrated about something.
"Do you always have to be so damn stubborn?" he asks me.
I place my hands on my hips, seductively doing a little twirl for him.
"You don’t like it?" I question, moving my hands so I showcase my outfit like Vanna White.
His eyes take me in again, starting from my v-neck t-shirt which stops just a little above of my shorts, exposing some of my stomach. Then they travel to my cut-off jean shorts that stop about mid-thigh, and last but not least his gaze settles on my worn pink Chuck Taylor’s, which I know he loves, since every time I wear them he gets a noticeable hard on.
"You look smoking babe, but it's bad enough I have to deal with Trent's hands on you. Now I'm going to have to deal with him staring at you like you're a piece of meat. I can't deal with that shit, Callie. I swear I'll blow a fucking gasket."
I give him a glare.
"Fine, I'll throw a sweatshirt on, but I'm not changing."
I spin around and head up to my room. I hear Evan, who hasn't said a damn word the entire time, laughing and making a jab at Mac.
"Oh yeah, ya got it bad man," Evan taunts.
I roll my eyes at the two of them as I look through my closet for the most revealing sweatshirt I own. No one said it had to provide full coverage.
"Oh yeah, ya got it bad man" Evan taunts.
I shoot him an unimpressed glance.
"Like you wouldn't be giving Sierra shit if she was going to spend the day with Trent."
He shakes his head, laughing.
"Yeah, I guess you're right. Trent is a horny bastard."
"You're right there."
Evan stands up, grabbing his smokes off the table.
"Smoke?"
I nod my head at him, following him out on the back porch. I lean against the railing, light my cigarette, and inhale. I love smoking. I know people say it's no good and all that shit, but it's my thing. I love feeling the smoke, inhaling it. It calms me down.
"So, what's she gettin' anyways? Sierra's keeping that shit under wraps. You might wanna be worried, man."
I laugh, taking another drag and exhaling.
"No clue. She won't tell me. Hopefully it's not one of those girly tattoos like a butterfly or some shit."
Evan takes time to guess.
"What if she gets a tramp stamp?"
I scowl at him. There's no way Trent is getting close to my girls tight little ass. I'll fucking do the tattoo myself at that point.
"She's not fucking getting that shit. There's no fucking way," I snap at him.
He lets out a chuckle as the patio door slides open, revealing Callie. I flick my eyes up, making sure she's actually wearing clothes now, but of course, she's testing my patience again.
What she's wearing doesn't even qualify as a sweatshirt. The thing is hanging off of her shoulders in a weird way that some women think is fashion or some shit, and the bottom has been cut off, leaving it cropped. I notice the thin straps that now replace where her T-shirt used to be.
Evan lets out a loud laugh, pissing me off again. He's fucking eating this shit up. I know he is. He loves that the woman I'm head over heels for is purposely trying to torture me.
Lord, why can't she listen?
She does an adorable fucking twirl again, showing me her outfit. I take a minute to appreciate the fact that my girl looks damn amazing in anything she wears. Everything she owns shows off every one of her mouth watering curves. I feel myself getting hard as she smiles innocently.
"Better?" she challenges, her voice laced with amusement.
I give her a playful look, moving toward her, and throwing her over my shoulder in one quick sweep. She squeals,
laughing, my hand connecting to her ass in a hard smack.
"It's gonna have to be, baby. We're gonna be late if you have to change again." I tighten my grip on her and carry her through the house.
"Bye Evan!" I let out a chuckle only I can hear, shaking my head at her. This girl.
I set off in the path of my truck. I flip her back over my shoulder letting her body slide down mine until I feel her legs wrap around my waist half way down.
"You're the definition of a caveman," she teases.
I stare at her for a second, studying every detail of her face. She takes my breath away. Even with her hair a total mess and her top all fucked up from my assault, she mesmerizes me. I stare into the ocean blue of her eyes, whispering low enough for the both of us to hear.
"Did I tell you how much I love you today?"
She tilts her head to the side, scrunching up her nose in a way which looks like she's thinking hard.
"I don't remember. Would you mind telling me because I'd love to hear it again."
I lean in close, our mouths only a finger’s width apart. I stare into her eyes.
"I fucking love you, Callie Rose. I even love this..." I place a light kiss on her tiny nose, "adorable fucking nose." I lean down to her bare neck. I place a kiss on it, too. "Your sexy neck." I kiss the bare skin which sits just above her tits. "And don't even get me started on these beautiful tits."
Her eyes shine with excitement.
"Is that all?"
I chuckle at her, and bring my mouth up to meet hers. I run my tongue along her lips, giving them the moisture they desire.
"These lips," I confirm, squeezing her ass roughly. "This ass. I love it all baby. Every single part of you.” I tell her.
She kisses me softly, her lips lingering on mine.
“I love you too, Malcolm Davis.”
We pull up to the tattoo shop, seeing the lights on and the open sign on, which is strange since Trent said he wasn't going to be opening today. I see Callie's face morph nervously, her eyes watching what I do.
“You'll be fine, Callie.” I encourage.
She turns, grabbing my hand, and intertwining them together.