Page 2 of Charlie and Her Sweet Escape
Something in my tone must have alerted him to my desperation, because he held the journal toward me immediately. “Okay. I’ll step away from the journal.”
“Thank you.” I got up on my knees to snag it from him. He didn’t give me any resistance as I took it, and I released a breath of relief.
Marked safe from Bennett discovering my sketches of his torso.
My relief caught in my throat, though, when Gretel, the medically fragile Jack Russell terrier I was fostering, sauntered into my bedroom with a mouse in her mouth.
“Gretel!” I scrambled back and tripped over the box, upending everything inside.
Gretel dropped the mouse and started to bark wildly.
The mouse scurried sluggishly toward me, and I screamed. I loved animals.Mostanimals. But mice and I had aGodfather-esque past, and one day, our vendetta would end with either me or them standing last. The mouse recovered some of its wits and was gaining on me.
Bennett grabbed the mouse in one quick movement just before it attacked. “Got you.” It flung around in his grip, still trying to get at me. “This is a feisty one.”
Gretel peed on my floor, her little body trembling with fear. She’d probably been so proud to show me her catch, and my reaction had freaked her out. “I’m sorry, Gret!” I collapsed onto my bed and picked her up.
Bennett strode to the open window and flung the mouse out into the yard. I shuddered, hoping it would run far, far away. It was a good thing my mom was moving, because the mouse had claimed its territory.
“You okay?” he asked as he took me in from head to toe.
“Yeah.” I let out a breathy, embarrassed laugh. “I way overreacted.”Not. But how could you explain a weird fear to someone who wasn’t afraid of anything?
“I once had someone jump off the trawler when they saw a rat.” He shook his head. “It was a nightmare. Screaming isnothing compared to that.” The way he said it, like it was no big deal, made me almost believe that it was no big deal. Bennett had a way of doing that—making you feel like everything was going to be okay. “I’m going to wash my hands. And grab a towel.”
We both looked toward the dark, wet spot on the carpet. And then Bennett’s gaze drifted to the right.
Where myYear of the Forrester Obsessionjournal was laid open.
To a painstakingly shaded and detailed drawing of Bennett’s chest, stomach, and hip bones above a pair of low-slung jeans.
Helpfully labeled in huge block letters: BENNETT FORRESTER’S TOUCHABLE TORSO.
Dang it, eighteen-year-old Charlie.
I was frozen.
He was frozen.
But really, I was anythingbutfrozen. I was on fire. Burning up from the inside out. My entire body had to be purple with mortification. I cleared my throat, trying to think of something to say, but all that came out was a strangled sound.Dang mice strike again.
I was really going to miss this life, since I now had to build a new one for myself far, far away from Bennett Forrester.
He smirked, the surprise mostly gone from his expression. “Itisvery touchable.” To demonstrate, he ran a hand down one of his pecs.
I flopped backward, grabbed a pillow, and pulled it over my face. “I’m actually dead right now, so it’s impossible to have this conversation …”
The corner of the pillow lifted, allowing a bit of sunlight behind my closed eyelids. I could feel the warmth of him close to me, watching me, but I refused to open my eyes and look at him.
“The drawing is a masterpiece. Truly a work of art. Can I have it?”
I sat up with a gasp, the pillow tumbling to my lap into Gretel. “No!”
I didn’t trust the twinkle in his eye one bit. “It’s hot in here. Maybe I should …” He went to lift the bottom of his shirt, and I saw a sliver of what was still a toned, breath-stealing stomach.
“Don’t you even think about it.”
He laughed and let his shirt drop. Bennett Forrester had always been a tease, and I usually loved when he teased me. It made me feel like I was almost a part of the family. But this was excruciating.
