We head over to the bar, the whole time I’m there I fake a smile and barely finish one drink, just long enough to get away with not looking like I’m running out on everyone when I say I have to go.
It takes a fucking age to get home and when I pull into the garage I’m relieved to see the BMW there.
Charley is in the laundry room emptying the drier and I almost snatch the basket out of her hands, making her squeal. When she sees it’s me, she hits me. Not hard, and not on purpose, it was a reaction to me walking in and scaring the shit out of her.
“What the hell?” she pants.
“Sorry,” I hold up my hands. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
“Jesus, Callum.” She puts both hands on the top of the drier and leans forward, but winces and pulls her hand away, then she turns to me, her eyes wide. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing, I know what it is.”
“I just dropped a tray.”
“You expect me to believe that.”
“I’m clumsy.”
“You were, you haven’t dropped anything in weeks. What did he do?”
“Nothing,” she can tell I’m fully up to speed with what happened. “He actually did only bump into me, it was a complete accident that didn’t need to turn out the way it did. Alcohol spilled all over his pants and shoes and he wanted to blame me.”
“Fucking asshole.”
“Ellie handled it and my hand is fine.”
“Let me see.”
“No, it’s bandaged, I’m not untying it to show you a cut.”
“What if there is glass still in it?”
“There isn’t.”
I open my mouth to argue some more but she walks around me and leaves the room, and the laundry. I glance down and see a pair of tiny white lace panties sitting on top and my head scrambles for a moment.
“Charley,” I drag my eyes away and follow her.
“I promise, I’m fine,” she stops at the bottom of the stairs.
She doesn’t look fine, but I don’t want to make her feel any worse than she clearly already does. If she thought Ellie was going to fire her last night and told her to stay off work a few days, she could have done with having someone to talk to when she got home.
Home, shit. This isn’t her home. This is temporary, albeit a little longer than the one night I first said when I got her out of the crack house. But that is beside the point.
“Callum,” she touches my forearm with her good hand and I swear sparks jolt up it and go straight to my dick. “I’m good. I’ve even been in to Elegance this morning to practice with the other girls.”
Right, the dance for the special party on Saturday. The one for the fucking Cantrell’s. He’ll see her there and know she didn’t get fired but with the entire council and more of our brothers there, he won’t try anything. He’d be seriously fucking stupid to.
Doesn’t mean I won’t be watching Charley like a hawk.
“How did it go?” I ask, to divert from asking any more questions about that fucking shitbag.
“Good, well, I didn’t mess up. But it’s a dress rehearsal so…”
“You’ll be great,” I reassure her. “You’rean expert now.”
“Doing one dance for one guy makes me an expert?”
