Page 3 of Out of Focus

“So, you did have your eyes closed.” My whole body tenses. Recognition hits me harder than the pavement beneath me. I know the sass in that tone. I can practically see the arrogant smirk painted on the face of the jerk it belongs to.

Rafael Machado.

You have got to be bloody joking me.

2/

i read a lot of romance novels. like a lot.

charlie

three years ago

I miss the rain. Why is the sun so bloody bright in LA all the time?

My now-famous sister is presenting an award at an event, and I’m her plus-one. She hates taking dates to these things, so it felt like the perfect excuse to come for a visit and have some quality time with my favorite people. And I brought some of her favorite snacks to surprise her with, which I’m about to unpack so she sees them as soon as she’s home. We don’t get to be together nearly enough anymore.

Gone are the days when things were simpler. In university, I lived with my sister and best friend. I knew my role as a student well. I could control so much of my life because we lived in this bubble, even in a city the size of New York. We’d eat pizza in the middle of the night, and I’d listen to Maeve and Elaina tell me about the boys they’d gone on dates with. It helped me so much, having them as my guides for how to interact out in the world.

Things are so different now. Maeve needs a bodyguard to attend events with her because she’s had some majorly creepy things happen lately. The guard assigned to her sounds like he might actually be perfect, though. She says he’s hilarious and doesn’t make it feel like he’s a security guard following her everywhere but feels more like an overprotective friend. Plus, Lainey already knew him, so it feels good to know we can trust this man whose entire job is keeping my sister safe.

I’ve arrived early, as a small surprise for her, and I’m waiting for her in her kitchen when I hear a deep voice outside the window.

“Well, maybe I can show you tonight just how sorry I am that I couldn’t make it to our date last night. I can show you with my hands, with my tongue, with my co?—”

“Ahh!” I walk backward and stumble on a pair of shoes Maeve left on the floor, making a giant crashing sound as I fall flat on my bottom. Who leaves shoes in the kitchen?

“What the fuck?” The deep voice is now inside the house. I can’t see who it belongs to because I’m currently all kinds of twisted up on the floor, but large hands wrap around my arms and lift me effortlessly. My eyes travel up a set of abs—visible even through the crisp, white dress shirt Mister Dirty Talker is wearing—to a wide chest with clearly hard pecs, to a perfectly chiseled jaw, and finally to the darkest, deepest brown eyes I’ve ever seen. Yes, he does indeed look like he belongs on the cover of a romance novel. All the breath leaves my lungs when his face breaks out into a bright smile. Two deep dimples appear on his right cheek, and I cannot tear my eyes away from them.

“Hey, red. See something you like?” His voice is smooth, too smooth.

“N-no.” I narrow my eyes at him. “And my name’s not red.” I step away from his grasp, feeling strangely unsettled by this beautiful man. The heat of his hands sears my skin even through my shirt, even though he’s no longer touching me.

“All right, Ginger Spice.” He smiles, and again, I find myself staring at the bloody dimples. “Care to tell me what you’re doing in here? Your sister thought you were arriving later tonight.”

“My sis—how do you know who my sister is? Who are you?”

“It’s my job to know, honey bun. Not to mention that other than you have red hair and a much bigger rack, you and Maeve look pretty much the same.” He lifts an amused brow at my wide eyes when he mentions my breasts.

“Who the bloody hell are you?” I shift uneasily on my feet, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Rafael Machado, but my friends call me Raf.” He steps closer and takes my hand in his pornographically large one. “You can call me whatever you want, though, carrot cake.” He winks, lifts my hand to his lips, and kisses my knuckles. My eyes widen again, and my breath hitches. I don’t know how to respond to this.

Deep breaths, Charlie. Deep breaths.

“I’m Charlo—you can call me Charlie.” I quickly remove my hand from his, doing my best to ignore the tingles running all the way up my arm. “I’m not a fan of nicknames, and you don’t know me, so I’d appreciate it if you’d stop that.”

He chuckles, and it’s a deep, rumbly sound. “Oh, I’m sorry, Chuck. Maybe I can show you how sorry I am with my hands, or with my tongue, or?—”

“All right, funny guy. You think you can rattle me by talking about your probably very mediocre, below-average cock? I think not.” All the blood in my body rushes to my cheeks. I don’t normally engage with strangers like this, but something about this guy thinking he can get a reaction out of me has my skin on fire. The feeling is nearly unbearable. As someone whose sexual experiences have been as exciting as watching paint dry, some might think this would shake me up. But I read a lot of romance novels. Like a lot. So I know how this goes. I’m supposed to clap back, right? At least the lack of filter between my brain and mouth helps in this situation.

The beautiful man has the audacity to chuckle again, and that rattles me. It’s a wonderful sound. Sexy, deep, rich. But then he opens his mouth to speak again and ruins the effect. “Maevey was right. You are the interesting twin, aren’t you?”

I hear the pitter-patter of footsteps, and Maeve strolls in. “Raf, I told you to go easy on her!” She hops over to me and throws her arms around me. “Charlieeeee! I’m so happy you’re here. I thought you were coming later tonight.” She’s squeezing me tightly, and it calms my nerves a bit as I give the smiling, dimpled man in front of me a death stare. “I see you’ve met Raffy, my loudmouth friend and bodyguard.”

I tear my murderous gaze away from the beautiful bronze god and take in my sister’s face. “I wanted to surprise you. Looks like I’m the one who got a surprise.” I wave my hand toward Rafael without looking at him. “This is your bodyguard, Mae? Really? Do you have any idea what this man was just saying to someone on the phone just now? To me? How can you trust someone like this with your safety?” I’m incredulous. This can’t be the same person she speaks so highly of.

“Char. Rafael is one of the very best. I promise you. He’s just a giant flirt who talks a big game. And I may have told him you’re likely the only woman on earth other than me and Elaina who wouldn’t fall for his muscles and those sinful dimples.” She looks over at him and shakes a finger at him. “I warned you she wouldn’t think your antics were funny, Raffy.”

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