I gritted my teeth that he would pick on my size. At fourteen, I was tall for my age. “Stay the fuck away from me, or I will make you bleed again.” I hefted my bag to my shoulder and stormed out.
“You will never be my father’s other son if that’s what you’re waiting for!” He stormed off, his room door slamming shut.
I found it hard to swallow past the tightness in my throat, anger razing through me like wildfire. Grateful then that the skinny shit had no idea what my father was like or what I’d done.
I rubbed my jaw and watched the taillights of Caleb’s car disappear into the traffic.
Justin might have wanted me to feel like I was worth nothing, but I’d treasured those things Caleb bought me, and I still had them. However, he’d refused all my verbal offers of a new vehicle, so I finally just bought one and had it delivered to him earlier this year.
I climbed into my truck, and then I just sat there.
My DNA donor was a waste of space and an abusive asshole when drunk and certainly no father to me. Caleb never gave up on me. As the years passed, my armored walls had splintered a little to allow Caleb in, and eventually, he filled some of that emptiness. Now his words echoed in my head. He knew me well enough to know it was hard to open up when it came to emotions. And then Charli cruised her way into my life with her snarky attitude, beautiful smile, and compassionate heart, throwing my life off-balance.
My heart clipped hard just thinking about her. And I rubbed my chest. It felt as if she found this thread within my heart and started to unravel me, causing all these unknown, intense feelings to gush through, wanting her so badly.
Whatever this was, I wanted to—no, I fuckingneededto see it through and win this girl.
I got out my cell to call her, then stopped, recalling what Caleb had said, and that got me thinking. Talking to Charli wasn’t working. If I wanted a chance with her, I had to play her game.
Then, I did what I utterly disliked. I set up an Instagram account and followed@charlij21.
Game on, Blue.
But I had only a single snapshot of her from yesterday. I should have taken some when we were at the amusement park, and she’d claimed the sloth as a prize. She’d sparkled with delight at her win of the ugly creature.
I found the photo of her sticking out her paint-smeared hand, trying to hold me off.
The rain had slicked her tiny tee to her body like a second skin, revealing a handspan of lickable tan waist with her jeans riding low on her hips. Her hair she’d pulled up and parted into two little buns on the top of her head, several strands hanging loose and wet down her face. Hell, she was so damn beautiful, even laughing at me.
If anyone wanted, they could easily make the connection through the snapshots, the hand imprint on my t-shirt on Charli’s account, and this one of her with white paint on her palm.
I finally drove out of the parking lot a short while later, heading back to my apartment, and at the thought of her waiting for me, my weariness lifted. A smile started. I couldn’t wait to see her faint from shock that I’d finally confirmed our relationship on social media of all places.
Yeah, I get it.For her, us being a couple was fake.
For me? It was fucking real.And I’ll do everything in my power to make it real for her too.
CHARLI
There. Dinner was ready. I switched the stove off and moved the stir-fry off the heat, then crossed to the living room.
I hoped War turned up soon, or the veggies would get limp and soggy. Sure, I’d still eat it, but War would probably take a head of lettuce and chomp on it. I snorted, then sighed, glancing around the empty apartment. This place, as lovely as it was, was empty without him. He’d been gone since early morning.
Restless, I pulled out my worn paperback ofPride and Prejudicefrom my tote since I’d finished my paranormal romance late last night at the beach house.
War had taken the living room couch for the night, and I’d slept inhisbed. But lying there in the dark, it was hard to relax and let sleep take me under with his scent all around me, scrambling my brains. So, reading helped a lot.
I opened to the first page…but my attention kept drifting from Mr. Bennett’s tolerant amusement at his wife’s excitement, that Netherfield Park was taken by a young man of large fortune, to the marina. Yes, the similarities were there for me, too. My mother wanted me to marry someone with alargefortune and have aheftyprenup—I rolled my eyes—but it didn’t deter my enjoyment of the classic.
The lights came on in the yachts bobbing on the tranquil water. I frowned and glanced at the time on my cell again. It was long past six, the hour War had estimated he should be back.
I blew out a deep breath, stirring the strands of hair escaping my topknot, my book forgotten on my lap, my mind on my troubled thoughts once more. This quiet in War since last night, and on the drive back to the city this morning, bothered me. Not that he was a rowdy person, well, unless he was tormenting me. But he’d seen me up to his apartment, and then he’d left. As a result, I couldn’t concentrate on my work or my Zoom meeting with Cooper, the author and father of the little girl in the book I was illustrating.
Maybe I should call War?
My cell buzzed with a text. I grabbed the thing from the coffee table, grateful for the distraction.
Ila. I opened the message.
