Unfinished Ex (Calloway Brothers, #2)(30)

“Anytime.”

He goes back to his friends. I go back to mine. My one. My singular friend in this whole town.

Lauren and Missy whisper to each other. “It wasn’t enough you broke that man’s heart,” Missy slurs. “Now you have to come back and ruin his new relationship? Why don’t you go back to Ohio already?”

“Oklahoma,” I say.

“Whatever.” The two of them leave Paige and me standing at the bar.

“Ignore her,” Paige says. “She’s drunk.”

“I don’t blame her. I’d hate me too. She’s right, you know. I shouldn’t be here. I’ve made everyone uncomfortable.” I scan the room for Jaxon and Calista, seeing them standing with a few of his old teammates. Calista’s smile seems forced. Jaxon looks indifferent. They’re both watching me, and everyone else seems to be looking between the three of us as if we’re tonight’s main attraction.

“I’m the one who left Calloway Creek. This reunion belongs to them more than it does me.”

Hunter sidles up to me again. “What are you ladies talking about?”

“How I shouldn’t be here,” I say. “It’s not fair to Jaxon.”

“Fuck him.” He leans close. “You know what would really piss him off? Dance with me.”

“Do you have a death wish?”

He laughs. “First of all, Jaxon Calloway could not kick my ass. And secondly, he has no hold over you anymore. You can do whatever the hell you want, including dancing with a McQuaid.”

“It’s not going to happen, Hunter.”

He leans over me and snatches another drink off the bar. “Anytime you want to see that man blow his top, I’m here to help.” He kisses my cheek before leaving.

I sneak a peek at Jaxon. Of course he was watching. I just can’t tell if it’s me he wants to kill or Hunter.

“Do you think those two families will ever settle their differences?” Paige asks.

I spin around, refusing to continue torturing myself by watching him. Because every time I do, I question why I left. I think about our first touch. Our first kiss. The day he took my virginity under the stars. Our wedding. I clear the lump in my throat. “I don’t think they even remember why they’re fighting. I think they just do it for fun.”

“Oh, look,” Paige says. “Calista has finally extricated herself from him. I thought she was going to remain surgically attached all night to show you he’s taken.”

In my periphery, I see her walk toward the bathroom.

“Aren’t you popular?” a familiar voice spews behind me.

I stiffen, then turn. “Jaxon.” I spin back and motion for Donny to give me another refill.

My hair gets moved aside, and strong fingers come around the side of my throat. For a second, I think he might strangle me. Then his grip relaxes, and his thumb brushes against the hollow of my neck. Sensations, tingles, zaps of… something… shoot through my body. It’s the first time I’ve felt his touch in two years. Paige’s eyebrows reach her hairline.

“As if being all over television isn’t enough, you have to come here and rub it in my face? I mean, what the hell, Nic? Is there any guy here you haven’t come on to?”

“Give me a tiny break.” I shrug his hand off me and huff. “It’s my reunion too, Jaxon. And if you don’t want to see me on TV, change the damn channel. Anyway, don’t you have a girlfriend you should be dancing with?”

The disdain in our voices is surprising. We never spoke like this to each other when we were married. And I’m not sure why I’m speaking to him this way now. He doesn’t deserve it. But seeing him on the arm of another woman all night has been… devastating, to say the least. And my defenses are up.

He takes my arm, pulls me behind him, and leads me out to the dance floor.

I know I should resist, but I don’t. Not much anyway. “What are you doing?”

“Talking with my ex. And showing everyone here that we can be civil.”

I glance around the pub. Everyone is staring. And guffawing. And videoing. I suppose they either think I’m going to punch him or fuck him.

“Can we be civil?” I ask. “Because based on the two times we’ve seen each other, we’re either glaring at or ignoring one another.”

“I think we should try to be. How else are we going to survive two months of you being here?”

“Avoidance,” I say, consciously trying to ignore the warmth of his hands. The solidness of his body. The familiarity of his scent that is permeating my every pore. The roughness of his voice that still speaks to me in my dreams.

Every synapse in my brain is firing, telling me to pull away. But my heart strings—apparently they think we’re still tethered together, and I find myself swaying to the music.

He moves with me. “How’s that working for you? Apparently not well since you decided to show up at the one place you knew I’d be. Not to mention all my friends.”

“Oh, your friends.”

“Yeah, my friends. You left them too. Or have you forgotten?”

“I remember perfectly well. More than you could ever know.” I break away from him because being in his arms is suffocating. “I have to go. I need to be up early.”