She turns to her brother. “I talked to Mom briefly. She’s a mess, so you’re coming home with me.” As an afterthought, she glances my way. “That’s okay, right?”
Why would she think I wouldn’t be okay with that?
“Of course, babe.”
“That might mean I won’t be able to come to the party with you.”
I’m disappointed by this turn of events—I was looking forward to introducing Charlie to my friends—but I keep my face neutral. “Hey, there are parties every weekend. It’s no big deal if we miss this one.”
I’d go and wait in the living room while Charlie helps Ben pack a bag for the weekend, but I’m afraid to bump into her mother. To avoid a possible awkward encounter, I stand in a corner and start looking for troll costumes on my phone.
This is definitely not how I envisioned my first date with Charlie would end.
29
CHARLIE
I wake up before sunrise, feeling wretched about what happened last night. My back is sore from sleeping on the air mattress, but stiffness is the least of my worries. I couldn’t get Mom to talk to me, which means I still don’t know exactly what prompted my parents’ fight, only what Ben told me he overheard.
Mom accused Dad of having an affair.
The idea brings bile to my mouth. I always believed my parents had a happy marriage. Growing up, it was rare for me to see them argue, and even when it happened, they made up quickly. I’m devastated by the possibility that Mom is correct in her suspicions.
Ben is still sound asleep in my bed. I tiptoe to the bathroom, and after I take care of my morning business, I head downstairs. My heart is heavy as I prepare coffee like a robot. Tears gather in my eyes, burning them. A few rogue ones manage to escape, rolling down my cheeks. I hastily wipe them dry, refusing to succumb to the sadness. Ben might be mistaken, or Mom could be wrong. It’s too soon for me to fall into despair.
The wooden boards on the stairs creak, alerting me that my solitude is over. Troy is the one who woke early, like me. His hair is a mess, sticking out at odd angles, and he seems to be half asleep as he trudges to the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. He’s also breaking our rules by only wearing sweatpants that hide nothing and no T-shirt. His pants hang low, emphasizing his delicious V that immediately turns me on. I’d complain, but he’s offering me distraction on a platter, and I desperately need that.
“Morning, babe.” He pulls me to him and kisses me softly on the lips.
Hmm, minty toothpaste flavor.
“Good morning,” I whisper against his mouth, glad I brushed my teeth before coming down.
“Why are you up so early?” we both ask at the same time.
“Jinx,” I say, making him chuckle.
“I couldn’t sleep. And you?”
“Same.” I step back, looking away.
“How are you feeling?”
I take a deep breath before answering, “Awful. I can’t say I’m surprised about my parents’ fight. They’ve been arguing for a while.”
The coffee has finished brewing, so to keep me from going too deep into my grief, I focus on pouring Troy and me some. I know he’s a caffeine addict like me.
“I’m really sorry, Charlie,” he says, and I know he means it wholeheartedly.
“Thanks.”
He understands better than anyone. His parents divorced, so I can imagine there was a lot of fighting as well before they finally called it quits. I hate to think my parents are going in that direction, but if there’s no saving their marriage, then it’s better for everyone if they go their separate ways.
I prepare our drinks, putting enough hazelnut creamer in mine that you could call it dessert and not coffee. Troy drinks his with just a splash of milk.
I offer him a mug. “Here.”
He takes a whiff of the coffee, making a humming sound. “Thank you, babe.”
We don’t speak for a while, getting lost in our drinks and thoughts.
Troy is the one who breaks the silence first. “Do you know what you’re going to do today?”
“No clue. I have to keep Ben distracted.”
“Come to the game with me. It’ll be fun.”
“It’s too late to get tickets.”
Troy gives me a droll stare. “Charlie, I’m on the team. I have season tickets for family. They’re pretty good seats.”
I’m not a sports person, but I’m sure going to a game would be fun, even if Ben and I don’t know much about football. “All right. What time does the game start?”
“At two. We have time to do other stuff, like find me a troll costume.”
I give him a small smile. “Oh yeah. We have to do that. I totally forgot about it.”
“If I don’t have a costume, then I can’t participate. Works for me.” He shrugs.
Narrowing my eyes, I reply, “I’ll get you a costume. Don’t worry. And it’s too late now. I’ve already signed you up.”
He sets his mug on the counter and approaches me, caging me in against the fridge. His right arm is sling free, and he circles it around my waist while he cups my cheek with his left hand. “Fine. Now I want to make your knees go weak and set your body ablaze.”
Good on his word, he kisses me hard, plunging his tongue into my mouth in a deliciously possessive way. I reach for his biceps, needing the support since he has turned my legs into jelly. The temperature in the kitchen goes up, creating a little inferno where clothes aren’t mandatory. He parts my legs with his muscled thigh, creating a crazy good friction between them. His erection presses against my belly, and I want to free his cock and wrap my mouth around his girth, bet be damned.
I’m about to beg Troy to take me right here on the kitchen counter when a throat clearing douses the fire faster than having an ice bucket poured over my head. Troy jumps back, covering his crotch with both hands. He doesn’t turn, just pretends to look for something on the shelf above the counter.
“Ben, you’re up,” I state the obvious.
“Yeah. The smell of coffee was like a beacon to me.”
“Would you like a cup?” I ask, pretending my face isn’t burning up.
I should have known better than to make out with Troy out in the open when Ben could walk in on us anytime.
“Sure, I’ll have some.” He pulls up a stool and then leans his elbows on the counter. “What’s for breakfast? I’m starving.”
I give him a cup of coffee, then go investigate our food situation. Peering inside the fridge tells me what I already guessed—we’re low on food. “We have eggs, but we’re out of bread.”
“Do you have any cereal?” he asks.
“No, I finished the last box yesterday,” Troy replies. “Let’s go out for breakfast. My treat.”
“Oh, we could go to Zuko’s Diner,” I suggest.
Troy cuts me a glance, and I don’t understand his peculiar look until I remember what happened in front of the restaurant. The splash that ignited our feud. It feels like eons ago.
“It’ll be good to reminisce,” I add.
“For the record, I felt awful immediately after I did that.”
“It’s okay, Troy. I’m not mad about it anymore. And I have my share of regrettable acts when it comes to you.”