Page 10

Charlie

I can tell Bailey’s dragging by the end of the night. I fucking told her not to work the full shift, but, like she always does, she has to prove me wrong. I can sense that she only powers through the day to spite me and it leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

I shouldn’t give a damn what the little brat does. She’s an adult, capable of making her own decisions.

I do care, though. Probably more than I care to admit. She should be at home, resting after a long day. Not vigorously scrubbing tables down.

After we closed, the bar was a wreck. The restaurant was even worse. It’s always like this on Saturday nights. Our busiest night of the week, especially during tourist season.

Dad already left for the night, so when I’m done at the bar, I finish up in the office and then head out back to smoke a cigarette and wait on Bailey. I guess I’ve taken up the burden of making sure she gets home okay. Andi and Tom sure as hell aren’t. Even if she annoys me, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to Bailey on her way home.

I pull out my phone for the first time that night and my jaw clenches.

Priscilla: Want to come over after work?

Priscilla: I miss you.

Goddammit. I haven’t spoken to her since the other night when she practically broke the sound barrier. I regret every second of it, especially after Dad’s look of disappointment when Bailey ratted me out.

The back door shuts and for once, I jump. Bailey stands in front of the doorway, not noticing me as she pulls her own phone out.

I take a moment to study her as she types away on her phone. God, those legs have been burned into my brain, all day, sliding into the curve of her ass in her shorts. A few times tonight, she bent over in front of me, giving me a raging hard-on I had a difficult time hiding.

Bailey: Did you leave or are you somewhere around here, sucking the soul out of an innocent?

Bailey huffs, but when my phone goes off, she jumps, letting out a small squeak and whirling toward me.

“Goddammit, Charlie!” she gasps, clutching at her chest. I suppress a chuckle and step off the wall. “Why are you hiding out here in the dark like a maniac?”

She plucks the cigarette from my fingers and takes a drag before handing it back to me.

“I thought you only smoke when you’re stressed?” I prompt, leading her toward the back gate .

“Well, I’m stressed now. You almost gave me a heart attack.”

I hold open the gate for her and toss the cigarette butt in the can as she slips under my arm.

“Don’t you have to lock up?” she asks, stalling at the gate.

“Brett can do it.” He owes me a favor or two.

She starts following me, making sure to keep her distance, like I’m ridden with plague-inducing bugs. The streets are still busy, even though it’s almost two in the morning. A group of drunk college kids runs in front of us and instinctually, I reach in front of Bailey, my hand on her hip to hold her back. Big fucking mistake.

My arm tingles when I pull it back and it’s fucking ridiculous. How many women have I touched? You’d think Bailey was made with some sort of voodoo magic with how my body responds to hers.

“Tell me, princess, do you always stare this much?”

She rolls her eyes, but her cheeks grow red under the street lights.

“I’m doing a documentary on men who think it’s a personality trait to be a dick. So, yes, I’m studying you.”

“And how’s that coming?” I ask as we step onto the sidewalk of our street. No, my street.

“It’s going well. You’ve given me a lot of material since I got here.”

“I’m happy to be of service.” We near the house and I stop to unlock the gate. “I can’t be all bad, remember? Andi told you I’m a good guy.”

Her eyes narrow on me when I hold the gate open for her to step through. She stalks past me before turning on me .

“Andi had a traumatic night. She wasn’t thinking clearly.”

I step in front of her, only inches away, and run my fingers down her bare arm. The skin pebbles and a small shiver rolls through her.

Just the reaction I wanted.

“So, you think I’m a bad guy?” Her eyes darken, growing hazy. I lean in, stepping in front of her until her back is pressed against the wall.

“I think you’re scared of someone seeing the real you. You like to pretend you’re a bad guy.”

She looks up at me through long lashes, her chest pumping with shallow breaths and my cock throbs in my jeans. I’m tempted to kiss her, taste her, but I know once I start, I won’t want to stop.

I place my hand on the wall above her, barely able to see her in the moonlight and the pale glow from the streetlights beyond the wall. “What about you, sweetheart? What are you afraid of?”

I lean in, my lips hovering over hers, mere centimeters from touching. I can taste the mint gum on her breath and I want to move further. Every ounce of self-control I have is being pumped straight to my head to keep me from doing something I know I can’t come back from. But, fuck do I want it.

Bailey’s eyes slide down my face to my lips and back up. She’s thinking about it, too.

“I’m afraid of . . .” she starts, but her voice trails off, like she’s thought better of what she wanted to say.

I open my mouth to ask her again, but she cuts me off, closing the distance between us and pressing her lips to mine so gently, I barely feel her. As quick as it started, it’s over. She pulls back as a look of horror crosses her face.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes, her eyes wide. She pushes away from me, attempting to duck out under my arm. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Something surges through me and before I know it, I’m grabbing her, wrapping my arm around her waist to haul her back to me. Her back presses into the wall and I use my hand behind her head to keep her from bashing it into the bricks. Then I kiss her, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips.

Bailey releases a soft moan and I swallow it, drinking her in. She tastes just like I fucking thought she would. Sin, sweetness, and everything that will make a man go crazy.

Fuck, what am I doing?

My tongue slips into her mouth and tangles with hers. Bailey wraps her arms around my neck, her nails biting into the flesh above my spine. The small bites of pain draw a groan from me, sending little shocks of electricity straight to my cock.

I force myself to stop, releasing her with a soft growl before I try to fuck her against the side of my house. She looks up at me, her eyes half lidded and hazy. I’ve never kissed someone with so little control.

“Don’t be sorry,” I murmur.

And then I walk away. I leave her standing in the courtyard, a dumbfounded expression on her face.

Inside, I wait until I hear her door shut before I move. I slip my phone out of my pocket, my hands shaking slightly, and type a quick reply to Priscilla.

Charlie: Can’t. Sorry .

“Fucking idiot,” I curse at myself under my breath, willing my heart to stop beating against my chest. I will myself to go in my room and not next door.

Bailey looked sexy as hell when I left her — her hair tangled and her cheeks flushed. Fuck . . .

I just screwed myself over, big time.