He leans down to meet my eyes. “If she gets trashed, I’ll carry her to bed. There’ll be no drunken falls tonight.”
I huff out a short laugh. “I’m a lightweight. I make no promises.”
“Then I’ll carry you to bed, too.” He gives me a patented smirk, and I pull a face, even though I’m picturing his strong arms holding me against his chest.
“I see I’m underdressed,” he says.
“Huh?”
He taps the tiara on the top of my head. I’d forgotten it was there.
“Don’t worry,” I say, collecting myself. “I have one for you, too.”
“Do I get sparkles?”
“Do you want sparkles?”
“I want sparkles.” His dimples appear along with a grin that means trouble. “You can apply them anywhere you want, Alice Everly.”
He says my name like nobody else has. Like it tastes better than other names.
Alice Everly. Alice Everly. Alice Everly.
“Lucky me.”
Charlie passes me a gift bag. “Your birthday present.”
There’s no card. Just a book. It’s a paperback romance, the best kind, with a busty heroine on the cover. She’s in the arms of a ravenous-looking shirtless man and dressed in an emerald gown that falls off her shoulders.
“You’ve turned a very red shade of red,” Charlie says. “It’s cute.”
“Shut up.”
“Don’t worry,” he adds. “It’s a good one.”
“You’ve read it?”
“I flipped through it in the drugstore. Think of me when you get to page 179.”
I immediately turn to the page, see the wordstongueandswirls, then snap the book shut.
“You’re incorrigible, you know that?”
“I do.”
I examine the cover. It’s calledRuling the Rogue. “You know,” I say, holding the book beside Charlie’s face, “there’s a bit of a resemblance between you two.”
“Oh, I know.”
I bark out a laugh.
Charlie gives me a strange look.
“What?”
“The way you laugh,” he says.
“I know, it’s horrendous. My sister calls it a witch’s cackle.”
