Together by This Christmas Tree

cally mcgregor

I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of John since last week, and the night that changed it all. And here he was, standing in my pub, with some annoying brunette on his arm. It was Sumner, and I could just tell, because she just so beautiful and that kind of flawless beauty I always wished I could possess.

And it really fucking hurt.

Pat spent most of his time with me now, sitting on the end of the bar and talking to me constantly, but he was quickly becoming my greatest friend, especially since Damien spending lots of time with his girl.

Of course, I hadn’t heard the end of Pat, who had invited me to his house to hang out with Kennedy Brock and Jared Monaco, the two guitarists. Kennedy and Jared both believed me the be the next “John Oh Fun-Oh”, meaning evidently they didn’t know about Sumner, like I am now.

I had a tendency to want to text one of the guys. I was already so close with all of them, and I only hadn’t met Garrett, but Pat told me he was practically desperate to meet me, but hadn’t been able to find the time to come hang. And John, well, John had no idea I was spending time with his friends. I was getting too attached too quickly, and that would be the death of me.

But for now, I was okay with that.

Pat looked at me from his spot on the bar, where he spent most of his time now. He loved me, and he told me so many great things about life on tour. He was so cute, and I loved his long hair. “I didn’t know John was back with Sumner,” I said, trying so hard not to clench my teeth.

None of them knew about that night in my apartment, and I couldn’t tell them. It was a promise I would never break.

“Neither did I.” Pat sounded just as surprised as I did as I cleaned out yet another bar glass, and then spent all my time watching as Pat approached John and Sumner’s table, and Tony appeared at my shoulder.

What was only a few days, felt like weeks. I missed John, despite myself. Pat returned, looking dazed as Tony gently slapped my ass, winking before returning to his nightly post as waiter. “I don’t get it,” Pat murmured. “I swore he was in love with you, Cally. When he first came back, he never stopped talking about you. And he still talks about that time you two spent decorating his tree.” Pat smirked and laughed, tapping his fingertips together.

“I have a plan, Cally, oh, do I got a plan!” Pat said, and suddenly I got scared, but smile all the same.