“Our dad died three months ago so Callan came back to take care of selling the ranch. Apparently Red owed your dad some work so Callan’s working it off for him. He leaves Thursday and you better not get in his way.” She gives me a warning glance, judging me. “I know the way you are. Hell, everyone knows the way you are.”
Dani gets up and leaves, never looking back at me as she heads inside the house.
I should be mad. Look at her judging me. Sadly, she’s right. She does know how I am. I’m not the one taken to Sunday dinner and doubt I ever will be but that’s not going to stop me from pursuing Callan.
A week. That’s all I have with him and I know this bull rider is gone forever. I’m not even sure why I’m so captivated by him. Just that I am and he’s controlling me.
Maybe it’s because he’s not expecting anything. But I have to find out more about him. I’ve never had a man tell me no regardless of my age. Callan has become a challenge, and an addiction, that I’m not going to soon give up.
Chapter Five
Saturday Night Fights
There’s something about the sunsets here that I do feel some comfort in and makes me believe that maybe if I’m here a little longer, it’s okay. The sky is painted purple and pink, pretty colors that soften my heart and soul. The party’s in full swing, red plastic cups, tailgates, smoked ribs and 6-packs. The lake is alive and savoring the last sliver of light that it can reflecting all of our hopes and dreams for the moment. Night is hanging there, ready to take over and it’s my favorite time of the day. It’s me. Stuck in between the lightness and darkness, not knowing if it’s the night relieving the day, or the day relinquishing its hold to the night. There’s no telling. There’s anticipation in it too, wondering what it will bring.
As smoke rises from the fire, a steady pop and flicker is heard around the bonfire. I know what tonight’s bringing, or I should say what tonight is wanting. It’s beside me, whiskey breath and a rough touch brought on by liquid courage and pushing me to go upstairs with him.
“Come on, Alanna. You know you want it.” His hand presses mine into him, groaning at my touch.
I don’t want it. I never have. And now more than ever. It’s in the light and warmth I feel standing twenty feet away. Callan is here, watching me and this interaction with Kasey and him watching me almost makes me feel dirty, like I shouldn’t be here and I most definitely shouldn’t be letting Kasey touch me with him standing so close.
My stomach knots when Kasey touches me because I know what he wants and I don’t want that tonight with him. Maybe never again.
His hands move to my upper thighs as I sit down on his lap. He’s sitting on an old rusty metal tailgate, cracked and straining under the pressure of this world just like my soul.
I’ve seen my heart break, it’s breaking every day. I’ve seen a love so strong that’s it’s nothing that sharp bend in the road can’t shatter. I don’t have that anymore. I’m holding onto moments that make me believe that it’s not worth it. There’s no love that can survive. I feel the burn of the wind in my eyes as I blink my tears away, holding onto the fact that maybe this won’t hurt forever. Of course, if anyone asks what’s wrong I’ll simply blame the watering eyes on the bonfire smoke blowing toward me but, deep down, I know that my heart’s still in such a state of flux. A state that causes me to go after the wrong me, go after the wrong sort of attention. It’s my defense mechanism that’s keeping me going. It’s all I know how to do.
I’m never anything more than I am right now, in the arms of liars, doing things I shouldn’t and being someone I’m not. Liars who will tell me how beautiful I am, how amazing I am, how perfect I am just to satisfy their own needs. They need me for that. I’m a scratch to their itch and then forgotten until the next need arises. This hasn’t seemed to bother me until last night, until Callan James. Maybe I can’t, or don’t, want to be that girl anymore.
I’m not these sunsets and bonfires that light a Texas night. I’m nothing like the sticky day with no relief by the night. Pouring clear liquid into mason jars, I kick back to Tim McGraw and the country beats through a blaring Chevy radio because that’s what I am.
Kasey is cocky sometimes and it’s more of the high school football jock attitude than him being confident. He’s hot, and he knows it. But he’s got nothing on someone like Callan James. He knows this and reacts accordingly. He knows this because while he’s begging me to go to his room, my eyes are watching Callan.
Callan’s eyes shift to Kasey, the chaos in his head so very clear. It’s easy to see Callan’s pissed by his tensed body and tightening of his jaw. There’s a condescending smirk that appears on Callan’s face, as threatening as it is promising.
Kasey’s eyes fall on Callan and I smile. It’s a jealous stare.
How’s it feel?
I’m not looking for revenge. I’m looking for me and I’m never going to find that with Kasey. I may not with Callan either. But I’m feeling something for the first time. This is new to me, a re-awakening of something that’s long left me and it feels, I don’t know, it almost feels invigorating. Sitting here with Kasey wanting me, Callan staring at me, unsure of what exactly he wants but knows he can’t have, it’s got my fires going. Fires fueled by embers that were long forgotten. To go from holding the tears in a little while ago, to now this, has my brain and my heart in a tug-0f-war of emotions. At one end of the rope is Kasey, and the other end holds Callan, and I’m getting yanked and pulled around at their reactions tonight to each other. Yeah, there’s a part of me that sort of likes this feeling.
Kasey taps my leg. “Let’s go upstairs. Or should I fuck you against the truck?”
My eyes squint and then peer across the fire.
Kasey sees the way Callan’s looking at me, and the way I’m looking at him and something changes in both their demeanors.
Kasey loves to taunt people. He’s always looking for a fight to prove something.
“Alanna, get up.” Callan says, reaching for my hand. The look on his face gets me, it’s as if he wants to rescue me from myself.
“She’s busy.” Kasey says, ignoring him.
I don’t though. I stand from Kasey’s lap and reach for Callan.
“What’s the matter there, James…couldn’t stay on for more than eight seconds?” Kasey asks, tipping his head toward Callan in a cocky manner.
That didn’t get Callan to even look his direction. It’s the next remark that yanks me to his side in that tug-of-war.