Heathens & Hand Grenades (Book 1 of the Heathens Duet)

Chapter 39- Callie

I've gorged myself on stew, downing two bowls as though I've been starved for weeks, much to the amusement of the men around me. The guys banter around me, relaxed and carefree as I've ever seen them. Even Rave lets loose a smile or two until he notices me watching. Then it's back to stoic and tense, at least on his end. It's fine. I offered up an olive branch and it's up to him whether or not he takes it. The ball is completely in his court.

"Are you done?" I ask, reaching out a hand for God and Cupid's empty bowls.

"Yeah, but I've got it Callie Cat. You don't need to clean up after us," Dario says as he starts to stand.

My hand on his shoulder halts his progress. "I want to. Let me," I reassure him.

A nod from God has him relenting. "Thank you, Calista," God rumbles. My cheeks heat at his praise and I dip my head before making my way over to Jaxson and grabbing his as well.

I get to work cleaning the dishes, grateful that Rave took care of his own and I don't have to worry about him. I'm not being petty exactly, just returning the same energy back to him that he sends my way. Okay, maybe that is a little petty, but it's all I have to give.

I come back to Rave carrying in a round, folding poker table and a chair. Cupid is right behind him with two chairs under each arm before plopping them against the wall.

"Should I grab some beers out of the fridge?"

"You're the best, Callie Girl," Dario says with his infectious smile and cheesy waggle of his brows.

"And you're a fucking simp. Can we get on with it?" Rave sneers.

"Don't be a dick just because your hand is the only thing willing to put up with you," Dario claps back.

My eyes are the size of Rave's dumbstruck open mouth. God, for all his usual seriousness, can't withhold the snort that escapes him at Dario's quick retort.

"The pup's teeth finally came in," Jaxson comments from his chair, face like a proud older brother. "Bravo," he claps.

"Knock it off. Pretty Boy, you're dealing first," God says as he settles into a chair and starts to deal out chips.

I plop a beer in front of each guy and I can't help it if Rave's gets a bit shaken up in the process. It's hard to carry that many bottles without a little jostling. The conspiratorial wink Dario gives me only solidifies my choice.

Taking the only open seat left leaves me between Jaxson and Dario. God sits on Jaxson's right and Rave is right next to him, staring down Jaxson while Dario bounces in his seat like a kid with too much sugar before bedtime.

"Can we throw on some music? It's a little quiet in here," I ask. Anything would be better than the somewhat tense atmosphere.

Dario hops to his feet instantly before anyone has a chance to answer. "I've got it."

"Absolutely not. And none of your choices either Pretty Boy. I need real lyricists and something to hum. Please," Rave adds the please as though that'll soften the blow. Even his manners leave much to be desired.

"So we're stuck with divorced cigarette mom country or divorced 'back in my day' dad rock? Our choices are shit," Dario groans.

Jaxson passes out stacks of poker chips, already checked out of the music discussion. I have no money, so I hope the chips are just for bragging rights.

"How about I pick the music? If you don't mind," I offer.

God leans back in his chair, tipping it on its back legs. "Aux is all yours Calista. Cupid hand over the phone."