Chapter 13
CHARLIE
After three hours in the ER, we’re finally home. The doctor gave Troy a strong painkiller, and he’s now a little out of it. I have to help him out of the car and hold on to him as we walk into the house for fear he’ll stumble and fall again.
I haven’t stopped feeling awkward thanks to my proximity to him. My heartbeat is still accelerated, and radioactive butterflies are having a rave in my stomach.
“I’m hungry. Are you hungry?” he asks.
“Yeah, sure. Let’s get you to bed, and I’ll make us a couple of sandwiches.”
“Oh shit. We can’t get to bed. My room is now a chicken coop.” He chuckles.
Damn it . I had completely forgotten about those stupid birds.
“Ugh. Karma is indeed a bitch,” I mumble.
“Sure is. Look at me. Coach is going to skin me alive.”
“It was an accident. I’m sure he’ll understand that.”
“Are you coming to my defense? The journalist who roasted me for not caring about football anymore?”
I sigh. “I thought you were supposed to be loopy.”
“I am or I wouldn’t be so nice to you.”
There’s nothing I can say to that. He has every reason to be furious with me.
Clamping my jaw shut, I veer for the stairs, my hand firmly clasped around Troy’s bicep.
“Where did you find them?”
“What? The chickens?”
“No, the alien babies doing the cha-cha in my room. Yes, the chickens.”
I ignore his remark. “Someone I know owns a farm.”
“Man, aren’t you resourceful?”
I steer Troy to my bedroom because he needs to lie down and rest. “Okay, it’s time for you to take it easy.”
He smirks lazily. “Charlie, if you wanted to get me into your bed, you didn’t have to go through all that trouble.”
“Ha-ha. The doctor said you need to sleep, and thanks to me, you can’t use your own bed.”
“And where are you going to sleep? With me?” He grins.
“Not in this lifetime, pal. The couch will do.”
I let go of him to pull the duvet out of the way. Troy crawls onto the mattress, shoes still on and everything.
“Hold on. Let me take off your dirty sneakers first, dummy.” I drop into a crouch to get to them.
He laughs again. “You called me dummy. That’s cute.”
No, you are. Fucker . Even acting like a moron thanks to the drugs, he manages to be irresistible. Maybe it’s because he’s not acting like an ass now.
“You should take my jeans off too.”
Heat spreads through my cheeks. “Not going to happen.”
I unfurl from my crouch, meeting Troy’s gaze. He has a lopsided grin on his face, which matches his up-to-no-good stare.
“Are you afraid you won’t be able to resist me once you see what I’m packing?”
“Please. You think too much of yourself.”
Before he can see the truth in my eyes, I escape to the kitchen. Hopefully, he’ll fall asleep after his belly is full and stop tormenting me with his flirtatious comments.
My appetite is gone thanks to the knots of worry in my belly. Troy is acting carefree now because he’s as high as a kite, but tomorrow will be another story. Maybe he’ll kick me out, and I’ll have no one to blame but me.
Knowing I can’t eat right this second, I only make one sandwich. When I return to my bedroom, Troy is fast asleep. Okay then. I set the plate on my nightstand, then go take care of the chickens that are still loose in his room.
The place reeks of bird shit, making me wrinkle my nose. I’m definitely not eating anything tonight.
Getting the chickens back into their cages takes forever, but the worst part is definitely the cleanup.
Why did I agree to Ben’s idea?
Since I’m not calling Fred to collect the birds now, I bring them all to the living room. We never made arrangements for after the prank, but the chickens have to be returned to the farm, obviously.
I feel disgusting, so I head back to my room to shower.
Troy is still out to the world, but I don’t want to risk waking him up.
I cross my room on my tiptoes and then turn on the bathroom light, keeping the door open only a sliver.
In the semidarkness, I quickly grab a change of clothes, then lock myself in the bathroom.
A quick glimpse at the mirror makes me wince.
I look dreadful. My hair is hard and matted thanks to the dried whipped cream, and today’s stress has given me dark circles under my eyes.
I take my time in the shower, washing my hair twice.
A sweet strawberry scent wafts from the bottle, and yet I can still smell chicken poop. Yuck.
I’ve almost reached pruny state when I finally step out of the stall. The bathroom is warm and foggy like a sauna. I brush my hair and teeth first before I put on my clothes.
“Wait. Where are the pajama bottoms?” I glance at the clothes I grabbed.
Crap . I took two T-shirts instead of a T-shirt and a pair of pants. At least I didn’t forget my underwear.
The T-shirt is long enough and covers my butt, so I head back into my room like that.
“Charlie?” Troy calls from the bed.
Ugh. Of course he would wake up to witness me prancing around without pants on.
“What are you doing up? Go back to sleep.”
He sits up instead, turning on the nightstand light. “What are you doing, skulking in the dark?”
“I wasn’t skulking,” I grit out.
“I’m really uncomfortable. Can you please help me out of my jeans?”
With a sigh, I head over to the bed. I wouldn’t want to sleep wearing jeans either. “Fine. Just promise you won’t make stupid comments.”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.”
I roll my eyes. “Please.” Focusing on my irritation and not that I’m about to see Troy in his underwear, I unzip his jeans and try to get them off. “You have to help me. Lift your butt.”
He does as I said, but even so, it’s hard to remove someone’s pants when they’re sitting down. I force my gaze away from his crotch, but my eyes have a will of their own. They stray, giving me a glimpse of his package.
Shit . It’s as big as I suspected.
“See something you like?” he asks in a dangerous tone.
“You wish.”
I finally get his jeans off, but Troy doesn’t do anything to cover himself. I fold his pants and set them on the chair by my desk, knowing I have to escape soon.
“Charlie?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you fix my pillow, please?”
With a groan, I glance at the ceiling. “Really, Troy? Now you’re just milking it.”
“I’m not. I’m in agony, and it’s your fault. The least you can do is—”
“Cater to all your whims?” I quirk an eyebrow.
He smirks. “I wouldn’t call them whims.”
“Fine.” I stomp back to his side.
As I lean closer to adjust the pillows behind his back, Troy’s good arm snakes around me, pulling me in bed with him.
“What the hell, Troy? What do you think you’re doing?”
He reaches for the back of my head, tangling his fingers in my hair. Damn, it feels good.
Too good .
“You smell like strawberries, Charlie. Do you taste sweet too?”
Grabbing a fistful of my hair, he pulls me to him and covers my lips with his.
I should resist, but the moment we touch, a current of electricity spreads through my veins, sending tingles down my spine.
His tongue teases my lips, prying them open.
I don’t fight, just completely surrender to the moment, to the fire that ignites in the pit of my stomach.
I’m kissing the enemy, the bane of my existence, and it feels fucking amazing.
It’s a toe-curling, knee-buckling, panty-melting kind of kiss, and it’s short-circuiting my brain.
A needy moan escapes my mouth, eliciting a throaty chuckle from Troy.
My mind finally snaps into action, reminding me that this is a mistake of epic proportions.
I pull back, ending the kiss abruptly, and jump off the bed as if I’d been electrocuted.
My lips tingle, and my entire body is humming with desire.
Damn everything to hell. I can’t believe I let this happen.
“You taste delicious, Charlie,” he says lazily, right before he lies back down and closes his eyes.
I don’t move from my spot, too stunned about what just happened.
Troy kissed me, and I let him. Even though the kiss was a product of his medication, I still loved it.
What does that say about my sanity? We don’t like each other, we don’t get along, and worse, we’re roommates. That’s a recipe for disaster.
He’s high on drugs, but what was my excuse?
You have none, Charlie.
All I can do now is pray he doesn’t remember a thing about tonight.