Philautia || Amour Éternel Series BOOK ONE ||

Four - CALLIE

AUGUST 2014

Callie heard her phone vibrate next to her head and she groaned, rolling over to silence it and mentally cursing the person causing the problem at the same time. She was vaguely aware of another person next to her in bed. She scowled in her sleep and opened one eye to investigate, praying it wasn't a man from the bar she'd been in the night beforehand. She sighed in relief when she saw that it wasn't.

Meredith Torres was snoring daintily next to Callie, delicate wrist draped elegantly across her pale face as her golden hair formed a halo around her head. Callie blinked rapidly and sat up as her phone buzzed again. She picked it up, yawning as she looked at the caller ID. Shannon. She scowled again and swung her feet over the edge of the bed, stretching her arms over her head. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over her dresser and the night's activities came flying back into her mind.

The evening started at 1OAK in West Hollywood. She had met up with Meredith and Aya for a few drinks and some dancing to unwind after a long week of filming. After several martinis and getting hit on by multiple skeezy guys, Meredith had the brilliant idea to go watch a local band she'd heard the crew talking about perform at some dive bar down in Long Beach. So they hopped in an UBER and headed over. Whilst at said dive bar, Callie had at least two more drinks and Aya had done a rousing rendition of "Baby One More Time" on the busted down karaoke machine before they were informed that the bar was closing and they needed to head out.

Things were a little sketchy from there, but the crumpled wrappers from In-N-Out littering her wooden floors told Callie that they had stopped for food at some point. It also told her that there would be a Scotsman sleeping on her sofa. They only ever got In-N-Out when Aya was involved. Callie got out of bed and shuffled across her small studio apartment toward the bathroom, passing Aya on the sofa. He turned in his sleep and his top half rolled off the sofa and onto the floor. He kept sleeping. Yeah. It had been a good night.

As Callie peed, she tried to figure out why Shannon would be calling her at eight in the morning on a Saturday. She washed her hands and took a bottle of Aleve from the medicine cabinet, popping two pills into her mouth in an attempt to fight her raging headache. When her phone vibrated again, she figured she should actually answer it.

"Hello?" she rasped out, surprised at the sound of her own voice. Apparently there had been lots of screaming the night beforehand. "Shannon?"

"Finally. I thought I was going to have to call the police and have them do a wellness check on you," his deep voice met her ear. "Are we still good to go for today?" he asked.

Today? What the fuck is today? Her mind raced to try to figure out what he was talking about. Unfortunately in her hungover state, it was more like wading through waist-deep molasses in January.

"You said we had to leave earlier so your dad would have time to fix my bike," he said. "I hope this isn't too early."

His bike! Yes! I was going to ride with him down to Coronado!

"No - uh, it's fine actually. Just give me about ten minutes and I'll meet you in the garage," she said, going through a checklist of things she could skip in her morning routine without looking completely like a bridge troll. The mirror was not feeling friendly this morning.

"Sounds good. I'm about ten minutes away anyways," he said. "I'll text when I get there."

The instant the call ended, Callie started racing around her apartment, pulling off her clothes from the night before and changing into riding-safe jeans and jacket. Her rummaging was enough to rouse Meredith.