Page 60 of Degrees of Control

Shut up, Jimmy-Boy, just shut the fuck up.

“How’d it end?” The pained look on Charlotte’s face made him grip the sugar bowl harder than he should have. “It did end right? You ain’t still seeing him?”

She laughed. “No not at all. We broke up because he was really jealous. Not at first, but as time went on, he just didn’t, he just wasn’t…” She took a deep breath. “We just weren’t good together.”

The sugar bowl gave an unhealthy squeak and James hastily let it go. “He hurt you?”

Charlotte smiled, her eyes fixed on the counter. “A little. Nothing life-shattering, but a bit of a nasty surprise. It sucked, realizing I wasn’t as good a judge of character as I thought I was. When it went bad I had to move out pretty quickly, hence this place.”

Again something lurched against James’ chest. Something big. Something dangerous. “Come stay with me.”

Charlotte froze, the beater in her hand dripping fat globs of pancake mix onto the kitchen bench. “What?”

Fuck.He’d wanted to explain this better. “I have a spare bedroom. We can get your shit in there today and after the wedding you can crash with Sophia.”

She gaped at him and then her eyebrows drew together. “I admire the way you’re trying to gain twenty-four hour vagina access, butno way.”

“Come on, Blue-Eyes, I like you for more than just your incredible pussy. Let me help you out.”

Charlotte barely registered his racy comment, just continued staring at him like he’d lost his mind. “You’re bananas! We hardly know each other, what about your privacy? What if I drive you insane?”

James considered it and pushed the idea aside. He’d never met anyone as agreeable as Charlotte. Whenever he was with her, they had fun. “You won’t drive me insane, darlin.’ Besides, if you’re leaving then it’s only temporary. I can do temporary. I could also do without the stress of worrying your ass is being murdered in the middle of the night. Just come live with me.”

“No way.”

“I’ll let you playSmoke on the Wateras much as you want.”

Charlotte didn’t even smile. “I mean it, James. Thanks for the offer, but I can’t.”

She slid a fluffy golden pancake onto the plate in front of him and then turned away. James looked at it wondering if he’d ever felt less hungry. Charlotte had the shitty maple syrup as well, the kind that was ninety percent corn syrup. Why that irritated him so much, he didn’t know.

Maybe because she deserves better than a busted house and a broke-ass life and corn syrup?

James decided to keep pressing. “Why not? No rent, no pressure. Lord knows, I never use the kitchen. You can’t tell me you’d rather live in a crime scene than crash with me for a few weeks?”

Charlotte’s expression softened slightly but she still shook her head. “It’s not a matter of one or the other, it just wouldn’t work.”

“Then tell me why. Give me a reason.”

“There’s not justonereason.” She bit her lip. “Look, I know money isn’t a big deal for you, but it is to me and mooching off you that way would just feel too…weird. On top of that, we’re not supposed to be, you know,moving in together. We’re meant to be having sex.”

It was then that James understood. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to take his charity, it was that she sincerely would rather live in a crime scene than with him for a few weeks. She was letting him down easy, just like he was meant to do to her. He recalled the night they met, the way Charlotte sensed that he was a piece of shit and left. Who knew, if he hadn’t tracked her down she would probably have a new boyfriend to cuddle up with by now. He’d probably be making her the pancakes instead of sitting back and watching like an entitled asshole. A spasm of panic gripped his insides.

I don’t know how to make pancakes. I can’t do any of this shit. What the hell have I gotten myself into?

He stared down at the Formica tabletop, willing it to give him the answers.

“James?” Charlotte sounded like a kindergarten teacher trying to coax a surly kid off the slide. He could feel her gaze on him, light as a summer jacket.

She’s probably wondering how to make you feel better. Like the morning fuck and the pancakes weren’t enough. Jesus Christ, could I be a bigger asshole?

It was time to find out. He stood up. “I should head out.”

Charlotte’s pretty face fell. “Okay, sure.”

Her sadness twisted itself around his guts but it didn’t stop him from pulling on his boots as he avoided her eyes. He was halfway through the door when he felt a cool hand on his arm.

Here it comes, now she’s going to explode.

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