Page 122 of Never Kiss and Tell

“I am,” I say with a pointed look at Savannah. “I have to go, Sav. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Yeah, right. In that dress? I imagine you’ll be busy.”

As if it was even possible for me to be any more embarrassed, Charlie chuckles, slipping out of the room. I say goodbye to my sister and slip my heels on before going to find Charlie.

He’s standing in the kitchen, his hands shoved in the pockets of his trousers as he looks at the picture of Andi and I on the fridge she had hung up the last time she was over.

It was taken in Cancun when we went for her twenty-first birthday. It seems like decades ago. So long ago, in fact, that Andi had cut out both the men in the photo. Drew on my side and Hunter, her ex-boyfriend, on the other. It’s hard to believe she’ll be marrying Tom tomorrow and I just tried anal for thefirst time with her brother last night.

It’s funny how things change.

“I got sun poisoning on that trip,” I murmur. Charlie doesn’t turn around.

“You don’t look happy.”

He finally turns to face me. My breath catches in my throat at the intensity in his gaze. I can sense the air around us has shifted, but I don’t know what to do or say to make it alright again. Did we take it too far? The locket, the sleepovers? The kissing? Someone always develops feelings when you make-out with someone constantly — a fact that I specifically told him, but he chose to ignore. This time, I’m afraid it’s me. He can sense my feelings toward him have shifted like a shark can sense blood in the ocean.

“I wasn’t,” I shrug. I was miserable.

“And are you happy now?” he asks, his eyes flashing with a look I can’t place.

I think for a moment. I can lie and try to tone it down, but he’ll see right through me.

“I am. I think a little too much.” Admitting it makes my stomach clench, so I lean against the counter for support.

“Me too,” he says, a little too roughly. He takes a step forward, crossing the distance between us and stopping when he’s just a foot in front of me. The small kitchen feels infinitely smaller with us facing off in it. Like there’s too much left unsaid between us. “How are you feeling?”

I blush, remembering the night before. Truthfully, I woke up feeling like he did after his big fight, but I refuse to tell him that. There’s still a part of me that doesn’t want him to see theweakness inside me.

“A little sore, but I’ll be okay.”

Charlie looks me up and down, his gaze lingering a second longer on the strappy heels I’m wearing. “I like this dress,” he says quietly, his fingers playing with the silk over my hip. Heat pools in my core under his dark gaze. Suddenly, I’m not sore at all, but painfully aware of just how good he smells and looks with his tie hanging around his neck and the top buttons undone.

“We match,” I point out, lightly touching the light blue handkerchief sticking out of his pocket.

He looks down to where my hand is, then back up to me. “Keep it up and you won’t make it to the rehearsal dinner.”

I chuckle under my breath, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, then leaning forward to whisper in his ear. “Patience is a virtue, Mr. Coulter.”

I reach for his tie. I got really good at tying them for Drew, but my fingers seem to shake while I do Charlie’s. He lets me, anyway, watching me with a blank expression that makes me squirm.

When I step back, patting the tie down to lay flat, we just stare at each other for a moment, like each of us is debating on playing hooky.

No,I scold myself.You can’t stay home from your best friend’s rehearsal dinner to bone her brother, Bailey.

“We should go. Don’t want to be late.”

Charlie grimaces and it makes me laugh. I give him another quick peck on the cheek and slip out around him to grab my purse. He swats my ass when he spots a glimpse of it whilehelping me into the truck. I jump, shooting him a dirty look over my shoulder that he just smiles wickedly at.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Charlie asks, putting the truck in drive and pulling out onto the street. The Quarter is alive with the smells of restaurants serving dinner and it makes my stomach growl. I haven’t eaten since Charlie and I made French toast this morning.

I sink back in the seat and run through my emotions.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I ask to stall my answer.

Charlie side-eyes me as he pulls out onto the busy street just outside of the Quarter. The hotel hosting Tom and Andi’s wedding is closer to downtown, surrounded by the taller buildings of the city. It’s not the same as Los Angeles, but the contrast is nothing compared to that of this part of the city and the Quarter.

“Everyone will be there.”

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