CHAPTER 45 Charlie
CHAPTER 45
Charlie
C am texts me after New Year’s to tell me he’s free and to ask if Rowan and I want to come over and have lunch. I’ve caught him up on Rowan’s situation with his family. It’s definitely time for them to meet in person.
“So this is our twenty-first date,” Rowan announces as we pull into Cam and Shelby’s driveway. They live in a remodeled home on a nice street in the Valley. Rowan gets out of the car and waits, not so patiently—his eyebrows raised and hands on his hips—for me to join him at the front door. I had to grab a drill I’m returning to Cam out of the back.
It’s one thing to introduce Rowan to people I work with, even those who are close friends, like Danny. It’s another for him to start meeting my family, because no matter how much work I’ve done on myself, a big part of me still cares what my family thinks. Not enough that I’d break up with Rowan if they didn’t like him, mind you, but it would cause some tension.
And I won’t be able to hide my feelings about him from my brother. Good thing I don’t want to.
I knock and give them a moment before I walk in. Cam and Shelby want to have family just walk inside, but after I caught them in compromising positions more than once, I decided that the best tactic was to give them a warning. Even if they knew I was coming over at a certain time, that didn’t stop them from doing things I don’t want to see my own brother doing.
I hear a cheerful “Come in!” from Shelby, and we enter.
A general contractor, Cam had been living in a construction zone for a long time before he met Shelby, always putting his customers before himself. But now that Shelby’s been helping him, it’s a warm, comfortable, livable space.
Also, it’s weird how both my brother and I got serious boyfriends—okay, he has a husband—in the past six months or so. They’re both smaller and younger than us, too.
Do I like the same kind of guy as my brother?
“Hey!” Shelby chirps. He’s a bit taller than Rowan, and he’s got dark tan skin, brown eyes, and bleached platinum hair that’s been cut recently, so it’s not its usual overgrown mess. He’s wearing a T-shirt that says GALACTIC OSHA INSPECTOR. I guess there’s some inside joke there.
Apart from their size and propensity for hair dye, Shelby and Rowan are nothing alike. Shelby’s all sweet; he’s a scrapbook of love.
Rowan’s a switchblade.
I set down the drill case in the foyer, give Shelby a hug, and say, “This is my boyfriend, Rowan.”
Rowan smirks and shakes Shelby’s hand. “I saw you in the office.” I shove my hands into my pockets, hoping Rowan’s referring to passing by the reception desk rather than Shelby catching him giving me a BJ. “But it’s good to officially meet you.”
“Likewise,” Shelby says. “Nice to meet you formally this time.”
My brother comes down the hall and stops short. I don’t think he was expecting to see me with such a tiny dude, and one with pink hair and tats—even though I told him—but he recovers fast.
“Pretty sure we just activated some force in the universe with these two meeting,” I mutter .
Cam gives me a weird look, then holds out his hand to Rowan. “Hey, I’m Charlie’s older brother, Camden.”
“I can see the resemblance,” Rowan says saucily, taking Cam’s hand, and I glare at him. He studies me, his eyes wide. “Oh my god,” he whispers. “Are you jealous? That’s so hot.”
I want to throttle him. Or claim him. So I do the latter, wrapping my arms around him and giving Cam an up nod. Cam looks like he wants to comment, but he holds his tongue. “Barbecue okay?” he asks instead.
“Perfect,” Rowan crows. “Need any help?”
“Nope, we got it,” Shelby says. “But come out and join us.”
We follow my brother and his husband out to the pool, where Cam hands us beers, and we all—except Rowan, who’s inspecting the landscaping—take seats. “This is why we live in LA,” I say. “It’s winter, and it’s still shorts weather.”
“Not at night,” Rowan murmurs, likely thinking of his trek down the coast.
“True. Not at night,” I say.
Instead of sitting in one of the open chairs, Rowan sits on my lap, his hand snaking behind my head to run through my hair. For fuck’s sake, he’s going to end me. I swear it.
I’m looking forward to expiring, though, if it’s with his soft weight perched on me like a bony little bird. His cute butt is somehow soft and hard at the same time. Before I know what I’m doing, I wrap an arm around him and draw him even closer to me.
Mine.
Rowan is mine.
I don’t want anyone else to even look at him.
“So, Charlie’s always been my grumpy Gus of a brother,” Cam says, a wicked grin on his face.
“Great, here we go with the embarrassing stories,” I mutter.
“Yes, please,” Rowan says, clapping his hands. “I want to know all of them. ”
“Cam will keep his mouth shut if he knows what’s good for him,” I growl, tugging Rowan to my chest and kissing his neck.
Both Cam and Rowan laugh. Shelby, on the other hand, is watching me with undisguised fascination, his lips parted and his eyes wide.
“What?” I mouth.
Shelby raises his eyebrows and shakes his head. “Nothing.”
Shelby’s never seen me like this—in love, into a guy, not afraid to show it. I’ve never been like this before, either, so it’s new for all of us.
Oh, sure, I’ve dated a few guys, and I’ve gone to bed with plenty. Danny, the recently reformed playboy, beat me in numbers, although not by that much. But I’ve never been this openly affectionate with anyone in front of my family. I’ve never wanted to bite someone on the back of his pretty little neck, right on that fucking script tattoo. I’ve never had anyone wiggling his ass in my lap, just tempting me to excuse myself from my own brother and go fuck him.
“Behave,” I warn. “Or you’ll get it tonight.”
“Promises, promises,” Rowan whispers.
I’d be embarrassed about all this flirting if I hadn’t witnessed Cam and Shelby falling in love. If I weren’t one of the first people, if not the first person (other than Shelby) Cam told he was bisexual. If I hadn’t seen them love each other openly.
I hadn’t realized how much I wanted that kind of affection. I kept everything so close to the vest. I didn’t let people in unless they were my family, and I rarely showed my true self.
Now that I have this relationship with Rowan—where we can do horseplay in a bowling alley and flirt at an axe-throwing place and make out in front of my friends and family—I’m happy .
Yeah. I’m happy.
Wow.
“So you’re bringing Rowan around,” Cam says quietly, when we’re eating tri-tip sandwiches. “Does that mean you’re ready to introduce him to Mom?”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “I’m pretty much completely head over heels for him.” I smile at Rowan.
“Maybe with Cam married,” Shelby says, “you won’t feel so much pressure when he meets your mom.”
Rowan bites his lip. “Charlie and I aren’t ever getting married. Though if we did, I’d inherit some family money faster.”
Cam looks at me as if I’m nuts. “What are you waiting for? Marry him and get the money. You want a sugar daddy, don’t you?”
“Oh, no, Charlie’s the daddy,” Rowan says. “Not me.”
“If we got married, we’d be taking the money away from his father,” I explain to Cam. “The St. Thomas family trust is clear: The oldest child of the oldest child receives the funds when they marry or turn twenty-five. So we’re not doing it.”
“He can’t be that far from twenty-five anyway,” Cam says. “What difference does it make if he gets the money now or a few years from now?”
Rowan and I look at each other. “Rowan’s father’s suffering from a terminal illness. We don’t want to do anything that would hurt him.”
“Doesn’t he have so much money that it doesn’t matter?” Cam asks. I stare at him, and he throws up his hands. “What? If he’s a St. Thomas, I’m assuming as much. Is he really going to miss it?”
“I guess it’s the principle of it,” Rowan says. “I do have some semblance of morality.”
“I’m sure you’ll sort it out,” Cam says. “In any case, it’s nice to see you both so happy.”
In the car on the way home, Rowan says, “I like your brother a whole lot. While you’re all growls and spines—which I love—he seems solid and dependable. And Shelby’s adorable. Too cute for words. Not my type, but he’s super sweet. He’s like a windup doll or something, except he’s got way more personality than that. ”
“You pretty much have that right,” I say.
Saturday night, Rowan and I walk into a midnight showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show . It’s been playing at the same theater in West LA for decades, and the place is, frankly, intimidating. All these people line up in costume, when I’m just wearing jeans and a hoodie. Rowan’s in something similar, although his displays a designer name.
“Have you seen the movie before?” a girl wearing a sparkly hat along with a shiny vest over a white button-down shirt asks us as she checks our tickets.
“No,” I say, pursing my lips and rubbing the back of my neck. What am I getting myself into? I swallow hard.
“Nope,” Rowan says cheerfully, looking around at the commotion with glee. More than half of the people here are in costume—at least, I presume they’re costumes from the movie. Who knows?
“Ohhh, virgins!” She pulls a lipstick out from between her boobs and reaches toward me with it, the end blunt and very, very red.
“What the hell?” I ask, taking a step back.
“If you’re a ‘virgin,’” Rowan whispers, “they paint a red V on your forehead.”
“How do you know?” I ask.
“I read about it.”
“Well, I’m not a fucking virgin,” I mutter.
“Just go with it, Daddy,” he says.
“What am I getting myself into?”
Rowan giggles. “A fun night with me?”
“Yeah, okay, baby,” I say, and let her do it. She paints one on Rowan, too, and we both look ridiculous.
We enter the theater and grab popcorn, then find seats .
“If we’re in the front, I think we might get squirted with water,” Rowan says.
“Another thing you read about?” I study the rapidly growing crowd.
“Yep. They spray people during some scene when it’s raining.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Okay.”
“When there’s a scene where someone makes a toast, everyone in the audience throws bread.”
“I knew there was a thing about Rocky Horror ,” I say, “but I didn’t know any specifics.”
“Guess we’re about to find out.” Rowan is clearly ready for anything.
The place is painted black, and the floors are sticky. It seems that there’s a live show that goes on at the same time the movie plays—in addition to the audience being dressed up. So it’s not my usual experience at the movies by a long shot. I just hope I don’t get more messed up than this damn lipstick on my forehead.
“Please silence your phones,” an announcement sounds over the speakers. I’d been frantically searching “what to expect at Rocky Horror,” but I turn it off and slip it into my pocket.
Rowan pulls his phone out—the one from his father; he made me return the one I got him—tinkers with it to turn the sound off, then studies the screen and frowns.
“What’s the matter?” I ask, a prickling sensation skittering across my body.
“I just got this weird text.” He holds his phone up, and I read Watch your back .
My breath catches. “What the actual fuck? Do you know who it’s from?”
He shakes his head. “Blocked number, of course.” He studies the screen a bit longer. “I’ll have Xavier look at it. See if he can figure out who it’s from.”
“Do you think it’s a prank? Someone from your past?”
“Or someone related to my family?” He sighs. “I’ve got no fucking clue. It’s probably a joke. I’ll look into it tomorrow. For now, let’s just enjoy the movie, okay?”
“Yeah, baby,” I say, squeezing his hand.
But no one gets to threaten Rowan, even if it is a joke.
A man dressed in black lingerie with a long black robe and high heels, his lips painted fire-engine red and his hair long and dark, saunters over to us. He puts a finger under Rowan’s chin. “Aren’t you the most precious thing ever,” he coos.
“Take your hand off my boyfriend before I chop it off,” I growl.
“Sheesh, sensitive,” the man says, and saunters away, swinging his ass.
“Someone’s possessive,” Rowan says gleefully.
“I can appreciate the confidence it takes to wear that outfit,” I admit. “But no one touches you.”
“That’s correct, Daddy,” Rowan says, holding my hand.
Then the lights go down, and the movie starts.
When it’s over and we’re walking out, Rowan asks, “So, what did you think?”
I raise an eyebrow. “That was quite an experience.”
“You loved it, didn’t you?”
I grin. “Maybe.”
Since we don’t get home until three a.m., Rowan says he’s going to wait until morning to text Xavier.
“I wonder if you need more security,” I say. The security service is still watching us, as usual.
“Maybe,” Rowan says, hooking his arms around my waist and tugging me down the hall. “For now, I need you .”