Songbird by Sydney Logan Read Free Book Online Page B

like hell to disappoint her. She’s always on my ass about meeting a nice girl and settling down, but nice girls are few and far between. Besides, who wants a nice girl? Certainly not me. Nice girls want the picket fence. Nice girls want a commitment.
    The last thing I need is anything that remotely resembles a commitment.
    “I met Callie at Simon’s wedding. She was the maid of honor.”
    My voice is nonchalant, as if I don’t know every curve of the woman’s body or the sound of her quiet sighs as she sleeps.
    “It’s too bad she couldn’t have joined us for dinner,” Dad says.
    I agree, because these benefits are full of gold-digging tramps. That’s why I always try to bring a date—to at least give the impression I’m involved with someone. News that I’m here alone is sure to spread like wildfire.
    I spend the next two hours listening to speeches and watching my brother and his girlfriend whisper into each other’s ears. After a few raffles and one last video presentation that brings tears to everyone’s eyes, the benefit finally starts to wind down. I begin to write my customary check when my phone vibrates in my pocket.
    I’m home. 453 Tangerine Lane. #3A.
    “Look at that smile,” Mom says.
    Owen smirks knowingly. “Must’ve been some text.”
    I grin and slip my phone back into my jacket. After writing my check, I pass it to Dad. Mom eyes me curiously when I stand up and kiss her on the cheek.
    “Headed home already?”
    “Early meeting tomorrow.”
    I promise to call her later in the week and tell everyone goodnight. I’ve almost made it to the exit when someone grabs my arm.
    “Dev, wait.”
    I turn and find myself face-to-face with my brother and his girlfriend. Owen looks serious. He’s rarely serious.
    “We need to talk.”
    “Can’t, little brother. I’ll call you tomorrow.” I then smile at his girlfriend. “It was nice seeing you again, Lorie.”
    She grabs my arm. “Listen to me, Devin McAllister. I know where you’re going, and I know what you think’s gonna happen when you get there. If you hurt my friend, or make her cry, or do anything to upset her, I swear they’ll never find your body.”
    “And I’ll help her dig,” Owen says firmly.
    I narrow my eyes. “What are you guys talking about?”
    “You’re going to see Callie, aren’t you?”
    “It’s none of your business, but yes.”
    Lorie’s eyes flash with anger. “Oh, it’s my business now. Maybe it wasn’t my business when you put that disgusting hickey on her neck. And it probably wasn’t my business when you left a card on her pillow to serve as some bullshit goodbye. But make no mistake, this is my business now, and if you do anything to hurt—”
    “Why are you assuming I’m going to hurt her?”
    My brother shakes his head. “Dude, just . . . don’t be an asshole tonight, okay? And call me in the morning, because I’m pretty sure you’re going to need to.”
    What the hell?
    “I don’t have time for this,” I mutter. “I promise I won’t upset her, and I’ll call you in the morning. Is everyone satisfied?”
    “For now,” Lorie says.
    “Awesome. Goodnight.”
     

     
    Traffic’s insane, but I finally make it to Callie’s apartment just after two. I anxiously knock on the door, ridiculously eager to get my hands on her. Maybe she’ll be wearing some flimsy lingerie. Maybe she’ll be naked. My mind’s busy conjuring all the possibilities when she opens the door . . . wearing a sweatshirt and jeans.
    “Hey,” she says softly, stepping aside to let me in.
    “Hey. You okay?”
    She looks pale as a ghost. Is she sick? She looks sick. Maybe I should call an ambulance. Or my dad.
    “I’m okay.” Callie leads me over to the sofa. “Look, Devin, I know you probably have some plans for us for tonight, but that won’t be happening.”
    “Oh.” Disappointment floods me, but if the nauseated look on her face is any indication, it’s probably best. Besides, there’s the next