Page 25 of Pinky Promises

Chapter 11

Brynn

Whatanight—thenonstopevening has finally wound down. We bade farewell to the bride and groom with a beautiful path of sparklers as they ran off to the honeymoon suite. Not long after that, Hadley and Asher left, with baby Olivia out cold. Most of the guests have left the reception hall and migrated to the bar on the property. At some point, Callum disappeared into the crowd.

I stayed back to tidy up a bit. The DJ is playing soft music as he cleans up his equipment. Focusing on the lyrics, I sway side to side as I gather the centerpieces from the bridal party table.

When hands grip my waist from behind, I jump and end up knocking over one of the vases, water spilling onto the light bluetablecloth.

“Shit,” I mutter, quickly reaching to right the vase.

The familiar woodsy notes and citrus of Callum’s cologne wash over me as he steps up closer to me, pressing his front to my back.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”That’s now twice tonight he has done that—jerk.

I relax and sink back against his firm chest as his arms wrap tightly around my waist.

He rests his chin on my shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Just trying to help clean up a bit.”

“Lex said the staff would all take care of that and for us just to enjoy ourselves tonight.”

“I know. I’m only trying to help.” Plus, it gives me something to keep me busy. Everyone else is off spending time with the people they love… or having slutty wedding sex, and then there’s me—all alone. Although, I’m not technically alone anymore. Callum is here. Things between us have shifted, and being in Callum’s arms right now has my head spinning and heart racing.

I glance back over my shoulder at Callum, smiling down at me. He presses his lips to my forehead, and I close my eyes, savoring the moment.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing.” Cal begins to move us gently to the music. We’ve spent most of the reception dancing, yet this feels so different, so much more intimate. “Even though she’s not around and most likely off somewhere getting dicked down by her husband, why don’t we listen to Lexi for once and just enjoy ourselves.”

I let out a loud cackle at his abrasiveness, even if his comment may ring true.

“Fine, you win. Also, please never say ‘Lexi getting dicked down’ ever again.”

Due to our closeness, the vibrations from his laughter rumble straight through me. “You got it, B. Are you tired? I can walk you back to your room if you want.”

I shake my head and spin in his arms so that we face each other and loop my arms around the back of his neck, now officially slow dancing. “Did you want to go to the bar for some karaoke? I think everyone is missing out.” Although I’m sure Ben and Lexi and Asher and Hadley are all busy doing other things like each other. “Ooh, we could bring back some of our favorite throwbacks. You know I didn’t get all my moves out earlier.”

I step out of his arms, spin around, and do a little twerking move, shaking my ass. I swear I hear Callum groan, but he quickly covers it with a laugh as I continue to dance, making funny faces as I continue.

“We could do that, or…” Callum draws out, reaching beside him and grabbing a bottle of champagne that he had apparently set down on a chair when he approached.How did I miss that?“We could go drink this bottle I swiped from the bar.” He dangles the bottle in my face.

“Swiping bottles from the bar, huh, Mr. Murphy? What are we, sixteen again?”

Humor dances in his eyes as we exchange a knowing look. I’m sure the same memories play through his mind that are playing through mine. We were sixteen and attending some boring fundraiser hosted at the Murphy Estate. As guests arrived, we were again required to put on the perfect family front, smiling and shaking hands. However, once the event was in full swing, it was back to being out of sight, out of mind.

This time, though, we didn’t go quietly, I guess you could say. We decided to have our own fun. I had distracted one of the bartenders while Callum stole a bottle of rum. We snuck off from the crowd and hid in his bathroom. Call us a pair of fools as we sat in his bathtub, feet hanging over the side as we passed the bottle back and forth. We were two-thirds of the bottle down and three sheets to the wind when the Murphy family housekeeper, Imelda, found us. Of course, my drunken giggles and his nonstop hiccups had given us away.

“At least this is a decent bottle.” Callum’s voice cuts through the memory. He glances down at the label. “A bottle of Schramsberg J. Schram 1999 is much better than that disgusting bottle of rum. This should be much smoother on our lips.” I sure hope so for what those cost per bottle.

At the mention of his lips, my eyes dip to them like a magnet to metal. I quickly divert my attention away when he notices and smirks.

“Plus, I’d like to think I have better taste now than I did back then to grab the champagne and not rum.”

I twist my lips, pretending I’m thinking about it.

“But what’s that saying, though? Tequila makes her clothes fall off? Maybe I should have grabbed a bottle of that instead.”

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