I had every reason to go head-to-head with Charlie. She’d been fucking with me unfettered for over a decade because, no matter what she did, you didn’t pay back your best friend’s little sister. Especially when you had four years on her and were old enough to know better. Well into adulthood and careers now, I had the freedom to shed the kid gloves. But now that I could, she revealed this hint of insecurity and it stole every bit of thunder in doing so.
I’d never paid too much attention to the dynamic between Charlie and our parents, but I was watching now—to prove her wrong or me right, I didn’t know.
With my hand settled over her lower back, I led her to the far side of the room, to the same table our parents reserved year after year. I pulled out the chair closest to the fireplace, where I knew she preferred to sit. Something about the crackle of the fire or something like that.
The year she turned twenty-one, the last time Chance was with us, she barely touched her food. Instead, she sat there facing the fire, her feet up on her chair, her knees to her chest, a hot toddy in her hands. Firelight danced along her warm brown waves, catching on the natural copper strands threaded throughout. She’d shut out the world and just basked in being. All flushed cheeks from the alcohol, with a smattering of freckles. I’d never seen her so at peace, with the flicker of mischief still lingering distantly in her luminous eyes.
I hadn’t seen her like that since. Until now, I hadn’t even recognized I’d been trying to catch a glimpse of her like that again. Soft, almost languid, with simmering spunk.
We’d work on that.
Why I suddenly cared? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
I cupped her elbow and turned her to me before she could sit. She’d lost a bit of her shine back there. The mischief waned in her eyes. The exchange with our moms wormed its way in and whispered lies to her. A part of her bought the bullshit they sold.
But for the next week, she was mine. Mine to care for, to protect, and I needed to get my ass in gear and pay closer attention.
For the time being, what hurt her, hurt me. We were a unit. Tighter than the ones we were born to.
“Charlie.” My voice came out thick, almost gritty with disuse which defied logic since we’d been talking every since we met up in the parking lot. I tucked my fist under her jaw, brushed my thumb over the tip of her chin, and tipped her face up to mine. “Just so you and I are clear…” I swallowed against the lump in my throat making my words gruff. “There’s nothing wrong with this.”
Her lips parted on a surprised gasp.
The sound crawled right inside me. That was the only explanation for why I tugged over her bottom lip, pulling it just a touch away from her teeth before letting it snap back.
This wasn’t a display for our parents. It wasn’t for Mariah and Daniel. This was ours and what it meant, I had no idea.
But damn. Now, I wanted to find out.
I leaned in, my breath fluttering over the shell of her ear, making her shiver against me. “Now sit.”
For once, she did as she was told with no comment. I could get used to this. Who knew off-balance Charlie could be so docile. I took my seat next to her and studied the menu despite the constant suspicious glances from the little demon.
Some of us didn’t need ghost peppers and scissors.
I smiled.
ChapterFive
Nick
Our fathers chattedat the other end of the round twelve-top table, bringing their work right into the holiday trip with them as they always did. Profit margins, investments, scaling up businesses, yada nada. Our mothers usually settled into light gossip about mutual friends. Who was getting married, having kids, which ones bought a winter place in Florida—and of course the ones not doing well—hospital stays, new medications, and rehab. With all those topics exhausted, they’d soon try to finesse bankruptcy gossip from our dads.
But so far this year… silence. Mrs. McAllister’s gaze bore a hole into us and my mother… well, she’d taken an intense interest in the menu and from her pinched expression, shit played the starring role in every dish.
Her eyes cut in our direction, a look of pure disapproval landing right on Charlie, prompting fiery anger I never thought I’d feel toward my mom.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Jeremy. I’ll be your server tonight…”
Charlie’s leg bounced next to me. With every lift of her heel her knee brushed mine.
Brush, brush, brush, brush…
Chaotic energy bubbled from her until I was sure she would launch like a rocket straight from her chair at any moment.
When I glanced over, I caught her sneaking a peek at my mother.
I reached over and laid my palm on her thigh, only I overshot and my fingers curled around the inside of her leg. My breath stuttered in my lungs with the contact. Chance, that fucker… this was all his fault. None of this was in my head. Not a single thought of Charlie in that way and all it took was one ill advised text conversation I unfortunately started to send us down this road to—well, I don’t know where, but the week loomed in front of me like a bad omen as the heat from her thigh warmed my palm.
