Page 136 of On The Rocks

I held her Coke up for her to see before placing it on the table. “The waitresses are busy, so I thought...” My voice trailed off, and I shuffled my feet when I realized every eye at the table was trained on me and not in a way that said,Hey, Cal, pull up a chair and take a load off.

“Well then, I’ll just...” I pointed toward the bar.

“You do that,” Tristan muttered coldly, taking a sip of cider.

Maeve elbowed him gently in the ribs before smiling up at me. “Thank you for bringing my Coke over, Callum O’Shea.”

My throat tightened.

I hated her calling me by my full name. She’d explained why she used to do it, so I knew it represented a time when we were disconnected, back when she viewed me differently.

Jaw tightening, I threw her a nod and went to walk away.

Maeve grabbed my hand to stop me, and I looked down into her cosmic eyes. “Thanks,” she whispered.

My gut settled for the first time in days.

“Anytime,” I murmured, squeezing her fingers before she dropped my hand.

Just like the walk to the table, the walk away from it was daunting because I knew my fuck-up was about to be the hot topic of conversation. However, not one person at that table wished me ill intentions. As much as I knew they weren’t happy with how I’d gone about things, I also knew they’d root for mine and Maeve’s happiness.

Even Tristan.

My face must’ve conveyed everything I felt because Atlas held my eyes as I walked back toward them. “You okay?” he asked on my approach.

I gave him a terse nod, hoping my throat would stop aching enough for me to speak.

“At least she’s here,” Breaker pointed out. “If she didn’t wanna see you, she’d have met the girls somewhere else.”

That was true, at least.

I craned my neck to see Maeve and all her friends huddled together and going by their body language, their conversation was terse.

“They’ll be putting her right,” Cash assured me, throwing Cara a wink across the room. “Nobody wants to see you fail.”

I turned back to the bar and nodded at Adam, signaling for another beer, not really knowing how to respond. I’d really fucked everything up, and I didn’t know how to put it right. Romantic gestures seemed too contrived. What I wanted ran deeper than that. I wanted to show her she could trust me, how sorry I was, and how much I loved and needed her. It wasn’t about weaseling my way back in there; I genuinely yearned to make things right.

“I’ve made a decision,” Atlas declared.

“Oh fuck,” Bowie muttered.

“Feel bad about hurtin’ Toots’s feelin’s,” he announced, ignoring Bowie, “So I’m gonna do somethin’ nice.” A wide grin spread across his face. “Gonna make her a mix tape. Atlas’s mix tape two point oh.”

“Oh Jesus.” Cash sighed.

Atlas took a swig of cider. “It’ll work a treat. I’ll do it full of sorry songs.”

My lips twitched because it was so Atlas. The tape he made back in the day for Sophie, although cheesy as fuck, was legendary and exactly the kind of thing that would make Maeve cry out ‘awesome’ in that cute way she did.

“She’ll love that,” I rasped.

His mouth thinned, and a big, beefy hand raised to rest on my shoulder. “I’m worried about ya, bud.”

To my horror, my throat heated, and I had to fight back the tears.

Nobody had offered me comfort since all this went down, not that I felt I deserved it. But Atlas offering me kindness brought out my emotional side.

“I’m okay,” I croaked. “Think I’m shellshocked more than anything.”

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