4
CHARLI
A strident blasthauled me upright and awake.
What the—?I blinked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Groaning, I dove for my ringing cell on the bedside table. Darn it! It was still dark outside. Who would be this cruel to disturb my final, dreamless slumber after it had taken mehoursto fall asleep?
“What?” I growled, answering the call.
“Blue, get your gorgeous ass moving. I’ll be there at seven sharp.” The call ended.
War?Ugh. I was going to throttle him and his early morning joviality.
Man, Isoooregretted Ila giving him my number during the wedding rehearsals when she hadn’t been able to pick me up. I could have easily gotten a cab, butnooo, she just had to give him my number…because he asked sohecould warn me thathewas picking me up!
I lay there for a moment, eyes shut, debating if I should ignore his warning this time. Then what I did last night struck me like a crowbar to my head, remembering the reason for my current sleep-deprived misery.
That kiss.
The one that made it hard to fall asleep, the one intended to make a point, to force his hand and make him get someone,anyoneto take down that first pic of us.
Slowly, I touched my mouth. My stomach heaved, recalling the feel of his warm lips on mine. It was a fleeting connection of mouths, but it spun my mind and left me in a daze. My breath hitched, wishing—
Hell no! I’d sworn off men. I did not want or need a guy in my life right now, no matter how hot my tormentor was.
Remembering the reason for my current dilemma, I hastily opened my Instagram account.
At the massive number of notifications—in the thousands!—awaiting me, I gaped. I never had more than twenty or thirty likes for my pics, which were mostly of scenic sights, books I was reading, or the gallery showing, but this? For the kiss pic?
Because it’s War. Duh,my annoying conscience decided to perk up and remind me.
The air trapped in my lungs escaped and had me panting in huge gulps. With the original photo of us outside the Cheetah’s training facilities still out there on the internet and hanging over my head—God! Who knew how many times it had been copied and shared by now? Ugh! I flung my phone aside, flopped on my belly, and moaned into my pillow.
Why, why did I kiss him?
Because the guy could test the patience of a saint. Not that I had said patience.
Exhaling resignedly, I forced myself to crawl out of bed at this butt-crack of dawn, knowing a little of the fault was mine.
Washed and changed into gray shorts, black sneakers, and the first t-shirt I could find, I grabbed another change of clothes, my sunscreen, shades, and ball cap, stuffed the whole lot into my tote, then made my way down the back stairs to the ground floor.
In the spacious kitchen, fragrant with the tempting aroma of something baking, I followed my nose to the coffee machine, needing my caffeine fix to function.
Gina, our housekeeper, glanced up from filling a muffin tray with cake mixture and smiled. “Good morning, Charli.”
“I wish it was,” I grumbled.
Her dark eyes twinkled, the corners creasing. “Bad night?”
“Bad company.”
She laughed, turning to pop the tray in the oven.
I liked Gina, and yet it still felt uncomfortable having people catering to me in my own home. I never grew up with a housekeeper or house staff until Mom started marrying rich.
My childhood was a happy,normalone, living in an older house in New Jersey with my parents. And Mom used to smile in those days. Really smile.
Sighing, I shut out the past and poured a mug full of coffee, then added a splash of milk. I chugged down some—needing the caffeine to stop from killing War—ow! I winced, the steaming coffee scorching my tongue and probably peeling a layer off my throat.
