Danny's POV
It was after 1 AM when I stumbled in through my fire exit that night. Or morning I guess. Whatever. The three of us discussed getting another room, but I decided to just get a cab so I could sleep in the next day. As soon as I had my window and curtains securely shut, I threw myself face down onto the couch and kicked off my shoes, burying my face in Cal's (my) hoody and fell asleep breathing in his scent.
Heavenly.
I didn't wake up until around noon the next day. I shuffled around, preparing a small pot of coffee, eating my string cheese and contemplating laundry. There was a crappy laundromat about a block from the gym and I was eventually going to have to use it. I fucking hate laundry. It's like a contagious disease. It just grows and grows and takes over everything and it's nearly impossible to get rid of.
I'm not going to wash my new hoody yet. I want it to keep smelling like Cal for as long as possible.
As soon as I thought of him I froze. I had forgotten to text him the night before. I pulled my phone out of my bag and saw that it was dead.
Of course it is. Good luck is a myth.
I quickly fished out my charger and plugged it into the wall before turning to my coffee. I got some creamer when I went shopping with Sammy the other day so I poured a liberal helping of French vanilla into my cup.
My phone turned on and immediately started pinging at me with notifications.
This is a bad omen.
Sure enough, I had five missed calls, all with voicemails and seven texts just from Cal. I also had a text from Sammy about the bonfire this weekend and one from Ray "just checking in". I need to be better about calling him. Sometimes I feel like I'm his daughter, moved off to college and he's the doting father sitting at home waiting for the call from the kid who moved on. But that's just a silly fantasy.
I look at the texts first.
Cal: Hey. It's late. You make it home yet?
Cal: Danny. Where are you?
Cal: Are you okay?
Cal: Why aren't you answering my calls?
Cal: Seriously, Danny. Pick up the phone.
Cal: That's it. I'm going up to Mac's if you don't answer my next call.
Cal: Heard you got a cab. Call me in the morning.
Well shit.
I don't even bother listening to the voicemails yet. Leaving my phone plugged in, I just hit the call button and set my phone to speaker.
"Hello," Cal answers midway through the second ring.
"Um. Hey..." I feel sheepish.
"Danny. I was fucking worried as hell last night. You should've called. You don't need to be taking a fucking cab home at one in the morning. I would've given you a ride. I missed you by 15 minutes," Cal scolded.
"I'm sorry. I really am. I left my phone in my bag and it died at some point in the night. Then I just completely forgot I was supposed to text you. I'm not used to checking in with people..."
"Your parents don't call you to check on you?"
Shit.
I thought briefly of Ray. "Um. Yeah, but I'm pretty bad about calling back..."
YOU ARE READING
Free Bird
Romance"I feel eyes all over me from every angle, but I know that at least one pair of them belongs to the tatted giant in the kitchen. Why not give him a show? He can look all he wants but he can never touch. This is one cookie that won't ever give him th...
