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“Laugh it up, asshole. Next time, I’ll come prepared for a quickie behind the projectors.”
Charlie raises an eyebrow. “Next time?”
Her words plant a seed of doubt. I know this is over, for now anyway. I certainly shouldn’t be fucking her at work—neither of us should.
Should we even be fucking her at all?
Now that my head is clearing from the lust-driven haze, I’m starting to feel uneasy about the situation. I’m not some sex-starved kid, and yet, I just blew my load from eating her pussy while my best friend rubbed one out.
One, I don’t normally share, and two, I’m not normally a giver, if you catch my meaning, so what the fuck?
“That was very…unprofessional,” Charlie says, directing a smug smirk my way.
The comment is so unexpected, I can’t stop my laugh. Her smile grows wider, laughing with me. After all the tension and angst between us from the instant we locked eyes across the bonfire, it’s a rare, light-hearted moment, and fuck if it isn’t everything.
“I don’t get it,” Trey says, looking between us, which just makes us laugh harder. His eyes narrow, and then he clears his throat meaningfully, his gaze falling to one full perky breast that still peeks from the top of Charlie’s bra.
“Fuck!” Charlie exclaims, fumbling to cover herself and button her shirt.
Being that she’s clearly mortified, Trey and I look away, but neither of us can stop grinning.
“Guess that was some talk you guys had, huh?” Trey murmurs with a wink. “Good thing Damon didn’t walk up here. Poor kid would have shit himself.”
I bark out a laugh before looking back at Charlie, who’s fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. She glances between us, and the realization of what just happened slides across her face. The moment of levity is gone. Her uncertainty is contagious, and I feel my emotional walls creeping back up.
I sigh inwardly, wishing I were a different person—a better person. “Right, well, we have enough people to close up this place, so why don’t you head out, Sunshine.” Despite the soft smile I give her, my tone sounds dismissive. I know it does. But I need to get my head on straight and figure out what the fuck this means.
Trey frowns at me, and Charlie’s steady gaze meets mine, a hint of hurt and confusion in her eyes, but she heads downstairs.
“So what was that, exactly?” Trey says once the lobby door clicks closed.
“I wish I knew.”
But whatever it was, it wasn’t enough.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
LINCOLN
Iskipped my last class, hoping for a few hours of peace before Trey or my parents get home, but no such luck. When I pull up to the house, my mom’s silver Tesla is parked in the garage.
I can hear her when I walk in; she’s in the kitchen humming and her blue-gray gaze meets mine when I enter and toss my backpack onto one of the bar stools.
I’ll always remember her that afternoon. It was the last day she was…herself, I guess. Ormyversion of her, at least. Her eyes are soft and kind, and her long dirty-blonde hair is tucked neatly behind her ears. When she smiles, her one dimple pops and her face crinkles in certain places. She’s so beautiful.
Mom raises an eyebrow. “Hey, kiddo. What’re you doing home? You’re not sick, are you?”
I shrug. “No, I just needed a break from school. Had a bad day. Why are you home?”
She gives me a small smile. “Same. I just got here as well.” She starts moving around the kitchen, opening the fridge. “Do you want a snack?”
I grin. “Mom, I’m not a little kid. You don’t have to make me a snack like I’m five.”
She moves close, the scent of vanilla and lilac—her favorite perfume—enveloping me like a warm hug. “You’re always going to be that five-year-old little boy to me, Lincoln,” she says, patting my cheek fondly.
Her words make me feel loved, but I still roll my eyes. I nod toward the cheese and crackers she’s assembled on the counter. “That looks good.”
A noise from upstairs makes us both turn and then we glance at each other in confusion. It sounds like muffled laughter.
