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“I ... it was an accident.” I grabbed it quickly to toss it and let him know we thankfully had an extra loaf. “Are you sure you’re okay? Want some tea? You should relax after all that work.”
“I don’t drink tea made by liars,” he said stubbornly, giving me a pointed look. “What has my son done now?”
Shitballs. The last thing I wanted was Charlie upset with Sterling, and even still, I felt like I was to blame here. “He didn’t do anything wrong. He was shirtless and it caught me off guard when I saw him.” Not lying here, it absolutely did. “I feel stupid and embarrassed and ... shit, I shouldn’t be saying this. It’s nothing to worry about Charlie, I promise.”
“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly not buying what I was selling. “Suit yourself then. Where is he, by the way? He told me he’d be here for dinner.”
“Think he went on a shirtless, shoeless run,” I muttered under my breath as I checked the crack chicken in the crockpot and went to find rolls. “Want me to text him?”
“Yes. I need to use the restroom, so I’ll be b-back.”
He vehemently denied my help when I offered, so I pulled out my phone to send one simple text before going back to my duties.
Me: Dinner. Wear a damn shirt.
