Page 22 of About Time

Elisa chooses to ignore me after that. Probably because she knows I’m right. At least I’ll have a valid reason to reject this guy. No way am I going to become Mrs. Artie What’s-his-face.

At least she’s stopped poking at me with different makeup brushes and pencils. The ironic part was how much she kept telling me that I’m a natural beauty the more she added shit to my face. I don’t know how natural I can be with a pound of junk hiding my skin, but I’ll take her word for it.

I take the opportunity to take a drink of my Pepsi that has been sitting on the vanity taunting me. That first drink is always the best. No matter how big of an addict I am, my taste buds still register the bite with the first drink. I’m so focused on enjoying my caffeine goodness, that it takes me a second to register what Martin is saying.

“I invited Charlie over earlier. I ran into him as I was leaving the hospital. He was there with Griffin. Liam stuck something up his nose,” he says.

That delicious swallow of cola I had taken works its way down the wrong pipe as I simultaneously gasp with my bad luck. I’ve got dribbles of soda down my face, and I’ve lost the ability to breathe. This might be how I die, but at this moment I’m okay with that because that means that I won’t have to be set up on a date in front of the man who regularly treats me like a doll while fucking me.

If this doesn’t kill me I might just go play in traffic.

“You should drink less soda,” Elisa tells me.

To be fair I’ve been a vibrating ball of nervous energy since Martin dropped the bomb that Charlie is coming to dinner. I’m sure they just think I’m actually excited to meet this poor dude with an old man’s name.

Right on time there’s a knock on the door. “He even comes to a dinner party like an old man,” I grumble as I go to open the door.

I could protest about opening the door, but Elisa would suddenly have something critically important to take care of in the kitchen if I didn’t volunteer, so I figure, I might as well save us both the hassle.

There’s more relentless knocking, and I quicken my steps down the hallway to let him in. “The sooner this starts, the sooner it can end,” I’m mumbling to myself as I open the door.

“Trying to get rid of me that fast, Doll?” Charlie’s deep voice rolls over me.

I have to stop myself from swaying toward him. Just the sound of his voice is enough to make me ready to follow any direction he has.

The fake smile I forced thinking I was opening the door to Artie slips off. I look behind me before paying more attention to Charlie. Lowering my voice, I say, “Hey.”

Lame, I know. This man makes my brain short-circuit.

He chuckles, and it sounds rich and full like the first sip of whiskey. “I haven’t even stepped inside and you’re ready to get rid of me already?”

“Not you, although it is going to be weird with you here now.” I roll my eyes, trying to act nonchalant, and not let on that I’m in the middle of an internal freakout right now.

Charlie looks down the hall to make sure we’re still alone before he cages me against the wall. “What do you mean not me?”

I gulp, somehow feeling like I’ve royally fucked up, even though I’m not the one who invited some guy over. “Martin and Elisa think I really need to meet some coworker of Martin’s.”

Charlie’s eyes narrow, and the vein in his head starts to bulge. I thought I’d enjoy the signs of him getting jealous more, but right now I’m picturing scraping together bail money after he beats some poor nerd, and it’s just not as sexy as I’d thought.

“Explain,” he says tersely.

“Just what I said. Elisa sprung it on me an hour ago that she’d invited some dude over. I thought I was babysitting Wren for them tonight, but she tricked me.”

His hand slides up to my neck, and he squeezes enough to let me know he expects the truth. “You have known for an hour that you were going to be on a date with another man, and you didn’t call me?”

“How would I have done that? I don’t have a cell phone. What should I have done, grab the house phone and call you?That would have gone over great if they’d caught me. Probably better than if they walk over here right now,” I remind him.

Just like I thought, my words go over like a bucket of ice water. He instantly drops his hand and takes a step back. He hasn’t gained full control yet though. His jaw ticks as the muscle rolls over the joint. His voice is still low, but I can hear the irritation loud and clear. “You and I are going to have a talk about the rules when I get you alone.”

I smirk at him, because I realize that I can tease him right now, and there’s nothing he can do about it. “Yes, Sir,” I quip.

Absolutely the wrong thing for me to say. Or maybe exactly the right thing.

“Fuck,” he growls quietly, and pulls me into the hall closet.

It’s a tight fit, but it’s surprisingly deep. His mouth slams against mine in a kiss that is equal parts battle and sensual exploration. I’m not even sure kiss is the right word for what he does. He’s devouring me, and like everything else he does, I let him.

Once he’s sucked all the sense straight from my head he opens the closet and nudges me out. Before I fully exit the tiny space he slaps my ass. “Remember who you belong to. I expect you to shoot this asshole down.”

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