Charlie’s gaze hardened at my accusation. He did not like to be reminded he was a player of the worst variety.
Come to think of it, he didn’t like me reminding him of a lot of his worst attributes, but this one was near the top. And worth the fight.
Okay, maybe this wasn’t the exact scenario that played out between us, but it might as well have been. And not just for me. For the long list of girls after me.
And fine, I hadn’t exactly hooked up with him all those years ago hoping to lock in Mr. Right. But I wasn’t the same girl I used to be. I was more mature. Wiser. Specifically older. I had a biological clock that never stopped ticking in my head, reminding me that it was time to settle down or give up my dreams of having a family.
Not that I wanted a family right now. But that was why it was time to find a serious relationship. All this life planning took time. I didn’t even have a boyfriend. Or serious prospects. And that seemed like a key step into getting the eventual family down the road.
I had to start somewhere. And there was no time like the present. And blah, blah, blah, I was twenty-eight years old, and well... it was time, wasn’t it?
I met Charlie’s flinty gaze and lifted my chin. I could see I’d pissed him off, but I was glad to have done so. He hadn’t tempted me into his bed like some devil from mythology. I’d gone willingly.
I’d gone willingly more times than I cared to admit.
But that wasn’t the point. The point was that he wasn’t a serious candidate for my future. He had been very clear about that. Charlie English was the poster child for all things irresponsible and wild. He was a ride-or-die bachelor.
And I knew it better than anyone.
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Ada, I promise you, if I ever get you back in my bed, you won’t want to leave. You don’t have to worry about being kicked out. You just have to make sure I feed and water you.”
My heart kicked violently in self-defense. Or because everything inside me was suddenly on fire. It was hard to tell with him because he made everything about me unreliable.
I moved to walk by him. I found it difficult being in close spaces when I was already so very tempted toward murder. Okay, not literally murder. But something on the maiming spectrum.
Charlie’s hand shot out and grabbed my forearm. I glanced down at where his skin touched mine and felt my lip curl back. Instinctively baring my teeth like I was a cornered apex predator.
“Ada, we need you out front,” he said, his intense gaze on my face.
I stared at our hands. “On my way right now.”
He leaned in, and I was besieged with the scent of lemons and limes and whiskey. “You okay tonight?” he asked in a quiet voice. “You seem a little on edge.”
I ripped my arm out of his grip a little more forcefully than necessary.If by on edge, do you mean this wretched, cold feeling I get in my chest whenever I’m around you?So not the energy I wanted to bring to work tonight. “I’m good.”
“You’re good,” he repeated.
“I’m so good.”
“Okay, fine. Go be so good out front.”
“That’s what I’m doing.”
“Good.”
“Great.”
“Awesome.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, struggling to settle my nerves. He always had to have the last word, which was fine. I was more mature than that. I didn’t need to say something just to say something. Whatever.
Lunging toward the main floor, I tossed, “Fantastic,” over my shoulder and then tried not to gloat when the door closed behind me before he could add something else.
“Charlie, what is going on with you two?” I heard Eliza snarl as the swinging door swung wide again before settling. “You need to fix this.”
“Fix what?” Charlie replied in a mild, placid tone. “The Ice Queen doesn’t care, Eliza. She doesn’t have feelings.”
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I swallowed them down before they could surface further. That was the crux of my drama. Right there.The Ice Queen doesn’t care, Eliza. She doesn’t have feelings.
