“You're being an asshole, Charlie,” I said. I shoved the contract into his chest.

“Me?”

“What the hell was that in there? What if you got in trouble? What if the guy knew martial arts or something?”

“None of that happened. In fact, none of it would have happened if he wasn't flirting with you. You know what? That wasn't even the bad part. You flirted back.” First of all, no I didn't. I was trying to appease the guy so that the situation didn't escalate to this fucking mess. I was going to get upset when I remembered who I was tal

king to. Of course, the guy who had almost started a bar fight over a stupid joke was the same guy making me move in with him like I had no idea how to take care of myself.

“I'm not arguing with you about that. We were talking about your contract. I am not signing up to be your prisoner for nine months because you are insecure.”

“I have to watch you,” he said.

“Why? Do you need a play-by-play of my bump growing just so you know that it's actually happening?”

He shrugged. “Clearly, if I leave you alone for a minute, you're signing up to have some other guy’s baby. I need to keep my eyes open.”

I threw my hands in the air, knocking the contract to the ground. “Oh, fuck you. Fuck you and the boat you rode in on.” He bent down to the ground to pick up the scattered sheets of his contract. I turned on my heel and started to cross the street. There was a lot of traffic, I had to wait.

So, that was what had become of Charles Hampton, huh? Just the sight of him across the beach seven years ago that summer used to make me short of breath. I became giddy and stupid whenever he talked to me. I couldn't believe that this was the same man I was head over heels for. He hadn't lost his hair or gotten a gut, no, he just became an asshole.

“Brenna,” I heard behind me. I felt a hand close around my arm.

“What are you doing? Leave me alone.”

“Come on,” he said. He pulled me towards a car. It was a limousine. What kind of psycho rode around in a limo?

“Come where? I don't want to go with you.” He opened the door and pushed me into the car, then climbed in after me.

“First you try to assault a guy in a bar, then you tried to kidnap me. You're really on a roll tonight, huh?”

“You gave me no choice. Barry? Take us home.”

“Home?” I asked. Charlie pressed something a screen between us and the driver. The car started to move and joined the traffic, but quickly came to stop again.

“We are looking over the contract tonight. I don't care how long it takes, we are reaching an agreement tonight.” He realized I was sitting right there didn't he? I didn't want to go anywhere with him, much less his home, especially after the little display he put on tonight. He sounded so sure it was annoying. And a little hot, which was more annoying.

He was still very, very attractive. It was a different sort of attractive than when we were both younger. He was bigger and more muscular, but it seemed that his aura was more mature and self-assured. He was a boss now. He was powerful and it was evident in the way he dressed, walked, talked, everything.

Was I thirsting over Charles Hampton who just made a scene at a bar and kidnapped me? No, it was the alcohol. It had to be. I wasn’t this horny and especially not for him. I giggled at the thought.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Nothing,” I said. It just made me laugh harder.

“You can't do that. Don’t leave me hanging.”

“It’s dumb. Do you remember that summer?”

“How could I forget,” he said. I looked at him and ignored the implications of his words.

“Well, do you remember Tommy? Tommy Archer?” I asked.

He pursed his lips. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“He tried to feel me up at the beach bonfire,” I said. His eyebrows went up and he made that ‘oh’ face remembering.

“Oh, that guy,” he said. His cheeks flushed. I couldn’t help laughing at that. It was cute, after seeing a different side of him make an appearance tonight.


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