“Charlie, what the hell,” Jack curses and swings his head around the bridge. No one is here to look or take photos.
“Oscar’s worried I let someone lay a hand on me,” he explains.
I intake a tight breath through my nose.
The air stills.
Deadens again.
Jack looks to me for answers that I can’t give him. All I know is that Charlie could have phrased that a million different ways, but he went with the truth.
No one really knows Charlie but Charlie, and probably his twin brother and father. But I have one of the best windows into his life. He’s enigmatic and alluring to the world, but what they don’t realize is that he’s just as destructive as his brothers.
He’s simply better at fooling people.
Charlie drops his pants, only in a pair of black boxer-briefs. He extends his arms like he’s about to be measured for a suit.
I scan his body out of habit. Not a bruise. Not a scratch. He turns around. His back and legs are just as blemish free.
When he rotates to me, he says, “Satisfied?” He’s not mad or angry or anything at all.
“No because I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t have to ask,” Charlie replies casually and then steps back into his pants. “And you’re wrong, Oscar.” He fishes the button through and his eyes meet mine. “I’m not doing this show to ditch you. If I wanted to, I could find a better way to do that.”
Round of applause goes to this little Houdini.
I let out an unamused laugh. I’m grimacing and I wash away a scowl with the roll of my eyes.
Off my anger, Charlie says, “I’m doing it for you, you know. The show, the one about my life.”
Jack shifts his weight, lips parted in confusion.
My brows knot, head cocked. “You did the show for me?” I sound skeptical because I fucking am.
He looks heavenward. “Well…one of the reasons I did it was for you. The more selfless reason, you could say.” He picks his shirt up from the bridge.
I shake my head slowly, my whole world on a tilt-a-whirl. “What are you talking about?”
“I know you hate the Oslie rumors as much as me,” Charlie says. “I know you barely have time to date because you’re following me around the world—”
“It’s my job, Charlie. I made that choice.”
He glares up at the stars. “No one deserves to have their life attached to mine.”
“Charlie—”
“Come back later. When I’m older,” he says, his voice cracking. “It’ll be easier on my detail then.” I know where he’ll be when he’s older. We both do. He’s made a few comments through the years about taking over Cobalt Inc., his father’s billion-dollar company.
“I like it now,” I retort. “I’m not coming back. I’m staying.”
He inhales a giant breath like he’s trying to suffocate on oxygen before his head dips back down to me. “Then I made the right decision with this show. Aunt Lily always says she can predict love, but she has nothing on me.” With another drag of his cigarette, his eyes ping between Jack and me.
I go rigid.
Jack and me.
Pieces try to connect in my head.
Love.
This show?
Me and Jack.
Love.
No.
No.
No damn way.
“You’re trying to fucking set me up?” I ask angrily, and I refrain from adding with a straight guy.
Charlie shrugs. “Whatever happens, happens. Maybe you two could just be friends. All I know is you’re lonely, and Jack looks lonely.”
Jack laughs, a bright smile cresting his features.
He’s smiling?
I do a double-take, surprised by Highland again, that he’s taking this in good humor.
“I take offense to that,” Jack says lightly.
Charlie frowns and waves a hand. “Really because your smile is telling a different story.”
“I’m just taking this all in…” he explains. “So this show isn’t a real thing?” The light diminishes in his smile, reminding me how important being the creator of a show is to Jack.
“It’s very real,” Charlie says, buttoning his shirt. “I need you to record me. Like I said, I have two reasons for doing this. Ending the Oslie rumors and starting a new one between you two is just an added benefit.”
An added benefit. So playing matchmaker and trying to hook me up with Jack Highland isn’t the most important reason. That should ease my nerves, but with Charlie, it’s just better to be on edge and ready to move.
“You can subtract that added benefit,” I say strongly. “There won’t be a single rumor about me and Jack.” Because we’re nothing.
Uninteresting.
Uncompelling.
Not together.
No kissing.
No fucking.
No holding hands or making love or waking up tangled in bed and smiling about who’s cooking breakfast.
I wait for Jack to add in, I’m straight, Charlie, with one of his bright, genuine smiles. But when he stays quiet, shock slowly ices my veins.
I’m frozen.
Wondering why Jack isn’t piling onto my declaration.
He hangs his head slightly, and as he begins to look at me, my anticipation catapults. His eyes are almost on mine.