The exact opposite of me.
My eyes don’t leave them as the music changes to something sexier.
I sip my beer as I watch the guy rest his hands on Charlie’s hips.
Fuck. The two of them are moving to the music together, rocking their hips into one another. Charlie’s hands slip into the guy’s back pockets as they keep dancing.
A burning fire erupts in my gut.
I swallow down the rest of my beer to cool myself off because I have no idea why I’m feeling this way watching Charlie dance with some stranger.
Seriously. What the fuck is wrong with me?
The guy spins Charlie, so now he’s facing my direction. The flashing lights are dancing across his face, highlighting all his best features.
The guy splays his hands on Charlie’s abs over his T-shirt.
Seriously?
I came here to talk to Charlie and he’s ignoring me. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Because all it’s doing is making my gut churn.
It’s then I notice the guy’s hand is dipping just below Charlie’s belt.
Am I jealous? Do I want to be the one dancing with Charlie?
No. It’s because the guy is taking advantage of him. I’m ready to head out there and punch the guy. Let him know he can’t do this to my best friend. It’s like my thoughts are a beacon to Charlie as his gaze meets mine.
His brown eyes are filled with lust, and it sends a new feeling floating through me. One that I’ve only ever felt for one other guy.
But now I’m feeling those things for Charlie.
My best friend.
Desire. Lust. Passion.
I want to be the one out there with him. I want to be the one making him look like that.
Charlie’s tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip.
It’s about all I can take. I’m going crazy being here and can’t watch this for another minute. Not with the way my thoughts are all jumbled up in my head.
Spinning on my stool, I head out into the cool night air, wishing it was colder. Lights are flickering up and down Main Street. It’s like a postcard.
“Brooks. Wait!” Charlie’s voice calls from behind me.
“I’m going home, Charlie,” I bite back. I don’t stop, just stalk down the sidewalk. Finding a lone patch of ice, the boots I’m wearing have me going ass over elbow. Until someone catches me.
“Would you stop?” Charlie huffs, helping to right me. “What’s your problem tonight?”
For once, I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to have this conversation.
“My problem?” I turn to face him. His cheeks are pink from dancing and sweat lines his brow.
Why am I noticing these things about him now?
“Yes. You show up at the bar demanding to talk and then leave when I start dancing with someone.”
“Because…”
