Charming Like Us (Like Us 7)

“Ohmygod OSLIE IS REAL!”

Fuck.

Every tendon in my body tightens, but I don’t drop Charlie’s wrist. Mainly because there’s a 50% chance the guy will let the stampeding pack of fans plow him down if I do. And I’ve taken his wrist before. I’ve had to physically pull him in my direction plenty of times.

Never did it elicit this reaction.

Never did it hinder my job.

Until those fucking rumors.

Charlie Cobalt and Oscar Oliveira are a couple!

Farrow and Thatcher, two Omega bodyguards, decided to not only date their clients but put a ring on them. And it’s fucked me to hell. Because now fans think SFO is some pretend security firm as a front to hide relationships with clients. So they think Charlie and I are an item, and it’s so far from the truth.

Adrenaline and annoyance make a home in my body. Charlie seems unperturbed but he keeps glancing at me and then back at the girls. We reach the curb just as the Uber Black skids to a halt in front of us. Timing isn’t always my friend, but I’m thankful it’s in my corner tonight.

Charlie doesn’t argue with me as I open the door and guide him inside.

“Where’d you set the address?” Charlie asks me as I shut the door.

“Your apartment.”

“Can I have your phone?”

I know the drill. As I pass it to Charlie, I tell the driver. “Frank, we’re about to change our destination. Is that a problem?”

The heavy-set man shakes his head. “Not at all. Just give me a second to let the GPS recalculate.”

“Done,” Charlie whispers to me and hands the phone back. “Your sister texted you.”

I can’t tell if he’s trying to distract me by bringing up my baby sister. Or if he’s pointing out that he saw her message to annoy me.

Whatever the case, I take a quick glance at the message while the Uber pulls onto the street.

I found an apartment & roommate on Craigslist. Meeting them tomorrow. Rent is affordable. Im not living at home anymore. I cant do it – Baby Sis

Fuck, Joana.

I text fast and feel Charlie’s eyes on my fingers.

Just live with me. There’s room. I hit send.

She’s quick to reply.

I like the Craigslist place – Baby Sis

My nineteen-year-old rebellious sister loves to stick it to our dad whenever she can, and I’d say eight times out of ten, he probably deserves the hard time. She’s stubbornly set on Craigslist, maybe to cause waves. Because Joana rooming with me will please our parents.

I’m the oldest by a longshot. I celebrated my thirty-second birthday a couple months ago, and my sister and brother are a whole decade younger than me.

This is a bad time to have a text war with my sister. I’m on-duty. So after I send a brief message saying, I’ll call later, I shut out the text thread.

Juggling family life among a never-sleeping job is hard. Anyone who says differently hasn’t met the Oliveira clan.

My eyes flit to the car windows. Yeah, I have no clue where we’re going, but at least we’re not being trailed or flanked by paparazzi vans.

I open up the Uber app and glance at the new address Charlie plugged in. My brows furrow.

My veins pump harder.

What the actual fuck?

I figured he’d take us to the airport.

But I’m staring at an address to The Walnut, an apartment building in Philadelphia. It can’t be a coincidence that Jack Highland lives there. I rub a hand through the thick curly strands of my hair.

“Why are we going to The Walnut?” I question outright.

Charlie leans back against the black leather seat. “I have an appointment with Jack Highland.”

I wait for him to explain further.

He doesn’t.

“In the middle of the night?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“You didn’t think to tell me?”

“I just did.”

I’m on a need to know basis with my client. And in his world, no one needs to know shit about his life. I get it. He doesn’t really want a bodyguard. I’m just the thorn perpetually in his side. But he’s got me, and right now I’m on high-fucking-alert.

Highland and I have history.

Okay, that’s a lie.

We have zero history.

Because the guy rejected my kiss.

Rejected me.

But hey, he still has my fucking bandana, my belt, and my sweatshirt that I lent him. So I’m taking this with stride. I’m killing two birds with one stone tonight and coming to collect.

Those clothes are mine.

I want them back.

I may have fallen for a straight guy, but my heart is bricked back up. Duct-taped shut. Jack’s not getting anywhere near it, and once I have my clothes it’ll cement that shit.

Charlie closes his eyes like he’s going to take a nap on the ride to Philly. I should do the same—sleep when I can—which is practically never. But my mind is on high-speed.

I’m about to see Jack.

Again.

I clasp a hand over my mouth, my face hot from what happened between us.