Disorderly Conduct (The Academy #1)

“Watching the game with Jack. Or I was, before he passed out.” A pause, wherein I can almost feel him kissing my neck, simply because that’s what usually happens when small talk is out of the way. “I was going to see if we could hang out. Like friends do.”

“Like friends do,” I say back, catching my reflection in the stainless-steel refrigerator. I’m twisting side to side at the waist like a middle-schooler talking to a boy on the phone for the first time. Really, it’s heinous. “Maybe a different night.”

There is a picture of Charlie beside the word persistent in the dictionary, so I’m not surprised when he doesn’t take no for an answer. “Not even for a drink afterward? What neighborhood are you in? I can come meet you.”

“Believe me, a drink will be necessary, but I think it’ll be a bottle of red wine passed between me and Nina in bed.” I look back anxiously at my friend, who in turn stares at the pacing Art League chairwoman. “We’ve had a pretty big setback tonight, so we’ll be licking our wounds.” When he doesn’t speak for a moment, I nudge him. “Charlie?”

His sigh is almost wistful. “Sorry, I got stuck on the part about you drinking wine in bed with another woman.”

“Lecherous man.”

“You brought it up.” His smile beams through the phone, reminding me of the hug he gave me in the bar. How he’d smelled. How he’d seemed invincible, those steady breaths lifting his chest beneath my cheek. “What kind of setback?”

“One of our waiters cancelled—” I cut myself off as a thought occurs to me. Call me a skeptic, a realist or both. I’m not one hundred percent sure if Charlie really wants to only be my friend. Heck, I’m not sure if women and men can be friends at all without one of them wanting to knock boots, let alone when they’ve been at it for a month. Why not find out if he can put his money where his mouth is? “How are you with a tray? Think you could walk, smile and carry one at the same time?”

I hear a creak and envision him standing up from a chair. “You’re really asking about my multitasking skills, Ever? Remember when my fingers were—”

“If you’re about to reference something sexual,” I interrupt, a hot flush engulfing me. “I remind you, Charlie, you promised you wouldn’t bring up our past . . . endeavors.”

His groan is pure male frustration. “Fair enough. But I insist on a caveat. Don’t refer to our past endeavors with the name of a space shuttle.”

My lips twitch. “Well, you did blast off.”

“Oh, now who’s bringing it up?”

When our laughs collide into the buzzing static, I realize hearing his voice has almost made me forget about the problem at hand. He has blanked my mind before, but not unless we were in the same room. Naked. “So, about that multitasking thing—”

“I’m in. Text me the address.”

A flutter begins a few inches south of my throat. “Just like that?”

“Yeah, Ever.” His voice could melt butter. “You’re in trouble so I’m coming. I want to help. Are you going to feed me for my trouble?”

Excitement blows through me at the idea of him finally trying my food. I never really expected it to happen. If possible, I’m more nervous about Charlie trying my meatballs than tonight’s guests. “I’m going to stuff you like a turkey.”

“Again, with the sex talk. You need an intervention.”

“You—”

My comeback is sliced in two when the chairwoman growls behind me. Loud enough to send me toward the ceiling. “The harpist cancelled.” She turns in a circle. “This isn’t happening.”

“I don’t suppose you can sing, too,” I whisper into the phone.

“I know a magician,” Charlie offers, obviously having heard the chairwoman’s meltdown. “And I use that term loosely. His show stealer trick is making a woman’s panties disappear.”

“You’re the magician?”

“No, but I appreciate the compliment. I think.” An exasperated sigh, followed by the clanking of glass. Bottles? “Jack, get up. Time to break a leg.”

“Sure, baby,” comes the muffled reply. “Just let me rest another minute, and we’ll go again.”

“Jesus,” Charlie says. “We’ll be there as soon as we can. Hang tight.”

This is going to be a triumph or a tragedy.

“Thanks, Charlie.”

“Any time, Ever.” More clanking bottles. “I mean it.”

I hang up and text Charlie the location, smiling like an idiot. Having him as a friend might be more black and white than I thought. Ignoring that ripple in my bones every time he’s around will get easier, won’t it? Especially when I find somewhere to focus my romantic energy. Right? A new start is the remedy for what Charlie makes me feel. I’m still a tiny bit . . . stuck on him at the moment. It’ll pass.

My voice sounds a touch scratchy when I call to Nina. “Problem solved.”





Chapter 10





Charlie


I have this vision. I’m going to sweep into the catering hall, balance one tray on my head, two in each hand and save the day. Ever will watch in awe as I stick a cocktail sausage in every available mouth, weeping into her apron as I pass. Since joining the academy, I’ve been climbing ropes, running miles in a flatout sprint and doing push-ups until my arms give out. How hard can it be to offer hors d’oeuvres on a tray to people? I haven’t been to an upscale function like this, but I know people like free food. It’s like airplane cuisine. Even if you don’t like it, you eat it.

Yeah, I’m not worried about the difficulty level of dishing out grub. I’m more concerned about feeling guilty when I see Ever. Dropping to my knees and confessing my alternate identity. Reve S. Guy. I’ve been feeling like an awful shit for deceiving Ever on the dating site. So much so, it took me a couple days to call her, thinking she would hear the sins in my tone and cut me off at the knees. As soon as I heard her voice, though, I forgot about everything but my mission. God willing, she’ll never have to know about my alter ego because we’ll be back on and better than ever before next Friday. Ever and Charlie 2.0.

“I can’t believe you woke me up,” Jack complains, hanging off the subway pole, eyes still half-closed. “I was having the best dream.”

I’m checking the overhead map and counting the stops until we arrive, so I’m only half-listening. “Let me guess, there were women involved.”

“One woman.” He yawns. “But she had three tits, so like, one and a half?”

Now he has my attention. “I don’t know. Sounds distracting.” I squint an eye, trying to picture a woman with a third breast. “Where is it? Right in the middle?”