She directs her big, hazel eyes at me and raises a daring eyebrow. I glance at Callum, fully expecting him to shut it down. That was one of the points I always brought up to Summer when I wanted to break up with him after we started seeing each other—his conservative, traditional streak that drives me nuts.

“I’m always up for a bit of fun.” He smiles, much to my amazement.

He slices his gaze toward me, narrow-eyed, like this is some kind of test.

I glance at Mal across from me, briefly, so as not to raise any suspicion. His face is stoic, his eyes zeroed in on the empty champagne bottle between us. Maybe he’s finally getting it. That it’s not only because of Callum that I refuse to entertain the idea of us.

It’s because he is Glen.

I’m starting to see that my father wasn’t the lovable, village-drunk martyr I’d imagined him to be. The secrets and lies swarming around Tolka have a root, and that root might be his grave.

Everyone is staring at me now, assessing my reaction. This could go south fast, and I’m too old to cave to peer pressure. On the other hand, I can’t pretend to be a prude. Not when Cal is game.

“Go on. You’re the one who always tells me to lighten up.” Callum elbows me with a chuckle.

There’s a threat laced in his voice for the first time since I’ve known him, and I don’t have time or the ability to crack it open and study its inside right now when I’m already tipsy.

I shrug in acceptance, and all the girls in the circle woo-hoo and meow like cats in heat. Callum is prime meat in this testosterone-deprived environment. Plus, Ashton looks too tanked and Mal too unattainable to promise any type of real action. The English chick goes as far as shimmying her boobs in Callum’s direction and winking. Very understated.

“Are you good with seeing Rory snog other lads?” she taunts.

“No one can kiss her the way I do, love.” He flashes her a predatory smirk.

Love. He calls everyone love. Mal is right. It’s not romantic. It’s kind of annoying.

“And what about other birds?” she pokes.

I choke on the beer I’m nursing, but say nothing,

“Especially birds.” Callum laughs.

“And what about you? Are you open to kissing a bloke?” She continues grilling Callum.

She is flirting up a storm with my boyfriend. It occurs to me that I should be mad, but all I can muster is irritated apathy, like when you see someone being a bigot online, but all you can manage is Liking the comment that argues with them, not actually entering the exchange.

Callum clears his throat. “Let’s keep it straight, yeah?”