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Her cryptic words have me frowning. “What does that even mean?”
After handing me the last dish, she takes the hand towel from the counter and dries her hands. She tosses it to me next.
“Let’s just leave it at that. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Besides, it’s pointless. The guy I’m interested in has no interest in me in that way.”
Before I can say anything more, she walks out of the kitchen, leaving me even more concerned about her behavior.
The thing with Aleah is, she’s the typical teenager and likes to bottle up her feelings. It wasn’t like this when her mom was around. It’s only been since Deena left that Aleah started to close down. It’s never a good thing when you hold your feelings in, especially for a girl her age going through what she’s going through.
I turn and lean back against the counter, contemplating on how I can help my step-sister. I’m a psychologist for Christ’s sake. I should know exactly what to say to her. But it’s like when it comes to my family, all of the years and money I spent on my education goes out the window.
This situation with Aleah and my inability to help her reminds me of another.
I was supposed to have a session with Charlotte yesterday. It felt so fucking wrong not seeing her. I hated not seeing her. She’s become an obsession. One I’m afraid I have no hope of overcoming.
Chapter 8
BRYAN
I’m back in Whiskey Blue’s, sitting at the bar. Instead of my friend Jack keeping me company tonight like I really need, I opt for a beer instead. Dad asked me to come to the house bright and early tomorrow morning to help him paint the outside of the house. I’ve got nothing better to do, so I figured why not?
I’m in a shit mood. Not having Charlotte in my office this past Thursday, I was really looking forward to seeing her at the park this afternoon. She never showed, which left me pissed off for some reason.
Sam, one of the other bartenders, slides a beer across to me. Reed got off work an hour ago and slipped into one of the back rooms with a woman he met tonight. What makes Whiskey’s so popular are the rooms in the back that people can rent. The refurbished building is old and has been around since the 1800’s. Back in the day, it was a brothel. The place is owned by Kai Deluca, who owns half of Silver Falls. Kai and I have been friends since middle school. Even back then, he was the silent, brooding type, and he’s carried that trait into adulthood.
Grabbing my beer, I swivel in my seat and face the room. Jamison and Rayn are both out on the dance floor. Not together, of course, but with separate partners. The mood of the music is sensual. If you couldn’t tell by the tone, you certainly could tell by the slow gyrating bodies. It’s not often I use the rooms in the back, but some of my friends do. Reed being one of them. Looks like Jamison might be visiting one tonight as well. He grabs his dance partner's hand and starts for the door leading to the back.
Just as Jamison gets to the door, it opens, and Kai walks out. He stops and says something to Jamison before Jamison steps through the door with the woman. Kai spots me and lifts his chin in greeting. I do the same back.
My eyes travel the rest of the room, recognizing more faces. I’m just about to turn around when something catches my eye. Or rather someone. That someone being the sexy, raven-haired vixen on the dance floor slowly rotating her hips to the beat of the music. There are two other women out there with her, Taylor and Camila Adair, but I don’t pay them any mind. Charlotte has captured my full attention, and just like every week she’s in my office, my eyes are glued to her.
The outfit she has on damn near has me panting in my seat like a dog sniffing out a bitch in heat. A black, skin-tight top molds over her perfect breasts and stops just above her navel, revealing a sliver of her toned and flat stomach. Her shimmery skirt, ending several inches above her knees, is loose and glides silkily over her thighs when she sways. My eyes travel down her tanned, and no doubt, smooth legs to her black, strappy heels. An image pops in my head of her digging those heels into my back as I fuck her hard and fast against a wall.
What are the odds of us being in the same bar on the same night? It’s like the world is set out to torture me.
Taylor and Camila step in front of Charlotte, blocking my view. I barely restrain a growl from leaving my lips.
Impatience for Charlotte to be front and center again has my knee jumping. Not seeing her for our regular session on Thursday, and missing her in the park today, has me on edge.
When she finally steps between the two sisters, I relax in my seat. She hasn’t noticed me yet, not that I want her to—I’m not sure I can handle facing her again in a casual setting and keep my hands to myself—so I sit back and watch her uninhibited.
She has her arms raised and her fingers slide through her long hair in a way that’s meant to taunt the watcher. Her eyes are closed with her head slightly tipped back, like she’s in her own little world. Her hips sway slowly and there’s a serene look on her face. She looks peaceful, yet exotic at the same time.
Suddenly, her eyes open and her gaze immediately comes to me. A sexy smirk curves her lips, as if she knew I was watching the whole time and she wanted to catch me doing it.
Ignoring her friends and the others around her, her hands slowly creep down her sides, over her hips, and along her thighs. My eyes narrow, silently telling her to not do what I can clearly see what she wants to do. Inch by slow inch, she lifts the hem of her skirt. I hold my breath in anticipation at the same time I mentally beg her to stop. I’m afraid of what I’ll do if she continues on this path. I’m a red-blooded male who very much enjoys sex. I can only take so much before I snap. The consequences if that should happen would burn both Charlotte and me, and I can’t allow it.
Taylor and Camila move on when they realize their third is focused on something else, and it doesn’t take long before some dickhead tries to slide his way up to Charlotte. My hand strangles the glass in my hand and a red haze clouds my vision. The vein in my temple throbs, and I’m seconds away from stalking over to the guy and smashing his face into the floor—which would be a huge mistake because Charlotte is not my woman. I have no right to have these feelings. It’s foolish and reckless.
Thankfully, my will isn’t tested, because Charlotte turns to the guy and says something that has him walking away from her. She turns back to me, and now it’s the look on her face that almost has me getting up from my chair and dragging her to the nearest dark corner. Blatant sexual need, so hot I can practically feel the heat from it all the way across the room.
The music stops and another slow song comes across the speakers. I groan when I realize what song it is. It’s about a man and a woman who share an intense sexual chemistry. It goes into vivid detail on their carnal exploits.
Charlotte turns on her mile-high heels, giving me the perfect view of her ass. She peeks at me over her shoulder, checking to see if I’m still watching—as if there’s a chance in hell I could tear my eyes away.
Over the music, I hear the chirp of my phone, but I ignore it. The world could be burning down around us, and I wouldn’t give a damn. There’s nothing that could force my attention away from the riveting sight before me.
One song after another blasts through the speakers and Charlotte continues to dance. Although there are plenty of people on the floor around her, her eyes don’t stray from me. It’s like she’s dancing for only one person, and that person is me.
