Charlie, control yourself. You spent the night and morning fucking his brains out.
My inner pep talk does little to help me. It actually makes me even more hot and bothered. It won’t do to walk into Golden Oaks like this. I have to start thinking of something completely unsexy to rescue my mind from the gutter.
I can’t think of anything.
“I forgot to ask, what’s going on with the prank we’re going to pull on Andy? You didn’t forget, did you?” Troy asks, saving me from myself.
“Shit. I kinda did. Let me text Fred real quick.” I fish my phone out of my purse and send him a message.
I don’t expect him to reply right away—it’s too early for him—so when my phone pings with a reply, I’m shocked.
“What did he say?” Troy leans closer, peering at my screen.
“Hey! Stop peeking at my private messages.” I push him off, pretending to be offended.
“Do you want me to start developing jealous boyfriend tendencies? Because I will if you start sending private messages to your buddies.”
I glance at him, dreading to read truth in his statement. But Troy’s eyes are dancing with amusement, and his lips are upturned.
“I like some possessiveness… in the bedroom.”
Ah hell. I had to open my big mouth and put me right back into crazy nympho mode.
Troy groans. “Why did you have to say that? Now you’ve woken Junior.” He points at his crotch. There’s definitely a bulge there.
“Junior?” I snort. “I didn’t know you named it.”
“Babe, all guys name their dicks.”
“Oh yeah? What do Andreas and Danny call theirs?”
“Excuse me?” He arches his eyebrows. “I’m not going to discuss my friends’ penises with you.”
This moment is too surreal. I can’t believe we’re talking about male anatomy when we’re a minute away from meeting his grandmother.
We’re right in front of the entrance, so I have to school my features. “Okay, okay. Let’s try to behave.”
“You’re the one who started it,” he replies tartly.
“You’re the one who had to kiss me like you wanted to bang me right there in the car.” I poke his chest.
“Keep up with the sassy attitude and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
Heat rushes through my face, especially when I belatedly notice a family right behind us. They must have heard the tail end of our conversation, judging by the wife’s horrified expression and the husband’s smirk. I let them go in first and won’t budge from my spot until I can’t see them in the lobby anymore.
Troy seems to have guessed why I’m stalling and doesn’t rush me. I take the lead when I’m ready, saying hello to the receptionist working today.
She smiles and then tells us that Ophelia is waiting for us in the gardens. We continue down the corridor in silence. Troy refrains from touching me. I’m glad he’s keeping his distance, but I can’t help but wonder if he’s acting nonchalant now because he doesn’t want his grandma to know about us. Not willing to have a repeat of this morning and say what I shouldn’t, I stop in my tracks right before we’re about to walk out the back door.
“Do you want your grandma to know about us?”
He gives me a quizzical look. “Of course. Unless you don’t want her to know.”
“I have no reason to hide from her that we’re dating.”
“Good. Me neither.” His eyes seem to twinkle with mischief.
“What?” I ask, immediately suspicious that he’s up to no good.
“What if we don’t tell her right away, just pretend we’re nothing but friends until I sweep you off your feet and kiss you senseless in front of her?”
I stare at him without blinking for several beats until I finally say, “No.”
His expression falls. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to make out in front of your grandmother,” I whisper-shout.
He sticks his tongue out. “You’re no fun.”
Heavens above, why do guys have to act like toddlers sometimes?
We find Ophelia chilling in a lounge chair, sipping a drink that could be regular iced tea or a Long Island. Hard to tell. Her boyfriends aren’t around, which surprises me. She smiles when she notices our approach and sits up straighter, pushing her oversize sunglasses over her now pink head.
“Charlie, Wolfie. I was afraid you weren’t going to make it.”
I give her a hug and then Troy follows me, kissing Ophelia on her cheeks.
“Well, we almost didn’t make it,” he says.
“Why is that? Partied all night long?”
He gives me a naughty glance. “Something like that.”
Ophelia, who is the sharpest lady I’ve ever known, doesn’t miss the gesture. “Oh my. Have I inadvertently played Cupid?”
Hell. I’m blushing so hard now that it’s a miracle steam isn’t coming out of my ears.
“Gram, you’re making Charlie uncomfortable.” Troy sits on the lounge chair next to her, leaving me standing there to suffer my humiliation alone.
Jerk.
“What did I say? You’re young and attractive. You should be going at each other like ferocious bunnies. I know I would with my boys if my joints allowed.”
Kill me now.
Troy makes a face that clearly tells me he’s regretting putting me on the spot. Ha!
I pull up a chair on the other side of Ophelia.
“Speaking of which, where are Jack and Louis?” I ask.
“Oh, they’re out, running errands. I had to send them away because—”
“Jane? What are you doing here?” Troy sits straighter in his seat.
“You didn’t know I was coming?” She glances at Ophelia.
“Must have slipped my mind to mention it.”
Troy’s gaze travels over his sister’s shoulder, and he becomes visibly tense. “Oh great.”
Curious, I turn around, and see the source of his irritation is an attractive, middle-aged woman who is sashaying in our direction. Her hair is bleached white-blonde, and her sunglasses are even bigger than Ophelia’s. She’s way too overdressed for a visit at Golden Oaks. She must be Troy’s mother.
My spine goes taut, and sudden nervousness takes hold of me. I’m usually not bad with parents—Blake’s folks adore me—but I sense it’s going to take more than a sincere smile to win this lady over.
“Good morning. I see you beat me here, son,” she deadpans.
“Yeah, Charlie got me out of bed early.”
Gee, thanks, Troy, for throwing me at the shark without a warning.
She turns to me, and even behind the sunglasses, I can sense her eyes assessing me. I try not to squirm in my chair. If I had known I’d be meeting her, I’d have picked something nicer to wear instead of my faded jeans, Chucks, and a vintage T-shirt. At least my hair isn’t in a messy bun, and I put makeup on to hide the dark circles.
“Oh, is that your new roommate?” she asks him as if I wasn’t sitting right there.
I jump from my seat and extend a hand to her. “Yes, I’m the roommate.”
“Actually, she’s no longer my roommate. She’s my girlfriend,” Troy pipes up.