Charming Like Us (Like Us 7)

Not necessarily as production and security.

But just as myself and him.

As Oscar and Jack.

I’m really falling for this guy, aren’t I?

He disappears.

It pounds my pulse. Aches my joints and muscles, almost pushing me to go after him. Run after him. With one more professional exchange to Sinclair and a short talk with Akara over comms, I sprint out of the tent.

Jack is already gone.

Charlie….is also gone.

My muscles are on fire, breath caged as I click my mic. “Oscar to Farrow, is Charlie in the med cabins?” Farrow has been off-duty for security and on-duty for the med team.

Right now, my desire to chase after Charlie has been replaced with a full-fledged desire to chase after Jack.

Comms crackle. “Farrow to Oscar, that’s a yes.”

I exhale.

If Charlie is safe there, then I can go find Highland. And so I text him and wait for his answer.

Jack and I meet-up in an empty cabin called Blue Daisy, just four bunks here, a rustic bench, and a blue trunk.

Farrow left us a tube of corticosteroid cream to treat our poison ivy, which he diagnosed after looking at Charlie. I must’ve had the plant oils on my clothes and that’s how Tyson got the rash, otherwise it’s not really contagious person-to-person.

I’m officially off-duty while I treat this shit.

My arms, my legs, my neck—it all burns and itches like I’ve been dipped in a vat of fire ants. I shed my shirt and unbutton my pants.

Jack places his camera on a top bunk, the mattress thin and flimsy. “You think Charlie knew he was leading us into poison ivy?” He pulls his tee over his head. “Just to get you and me naked together?”

I let out a laugh. “Now that would be some 5D-chess.” I step out of my pants.

“It is working,” Jack notes, standing in only gray boxer-briefs. But he’s itching his neck to hell and back.

“Stop scratching, Highland.” I catch his wrist.

His chest rises, his eyes drop down my half-naked build. I’m only wearing dark blue boxer-briefs, and a part of me is screaming to kiss him. To clutch his jaw and pull him closer. But we’re both in slight pain right now, and a lot just happened with his little brother.

I slide my hand down his wrist and into his palm.

I hold his hand.

Jack sweeps my features with questions that I don’t understand. It makes me nervous. Does he like this? Does he not?

I glance down at our interlaced fingers. “You have a good grip, Long Beach.”

He smiles that dazzlingly smile.

A heady feeling washes over me. Butterflies. I’m thirty-two and still getting butterflies from a handhold, and we’ve already run some bases together.

Jack squeezes. “Not too tight for you?”

“Never too tight for me,” I grin.

We take a seat side-by-side on a bottom bunkbed. The camp cabin creaks with a heavy gust of summer wind, and we inspect each other’s rashes. His worst is along his neck, flaming his light-brown skin.

Mine is crawling up my arm and shoulder.

Jack unscrews the ointment. “Charlie ran through the poison ivy too, so if he did it on purpose, he’s knowingly making himself suffer.”

“Yeah.” I nod slowly. “He doesn’t have much care for his own life.”

But the more Charlie doesn’t care, the more I just want to ensure he’s still standing at the end of the day.

Jack looks troubled.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“The ethics of this show, but…that’s not even at the forefront right now.” His smile is sadder. “My brother.” He tips his head to me, the light in his honey-brown eyes almost fading. “Did I make a mistake attaching him to this project—to these families?”

I shake my head. “He’ll learn that you can’t fight fire with fire. You and me—we’re jaded. We’ve seen it all, been through it all, and when you bring a soul in here who hasn’t experienced the ridicule and hatred, it’s going to hit them differently.”

“I don’t want this to change him,” Jack confesses. “I don’t want him to be bitter or for him to lose his innocence too fast.”

I think about Quinn.

When my brother first joined security, he was naïve, not realizing how much unwarranted shit is thrown at the families, and I know he’s more hard-edged now than before.

“He’s seventeen,” I tell Jack. “Our brothers are gonna grow up whether we like it or not. The good thing is he’s here with you, and you’re with him.” I hang my head with a coarse breath. “But let’s be honest, I’m probably the last person who should be giving brotherly advice.”

Jack slips me a smile. “No, you’re the first person who should. At least for me. You’ve already been twenty-seven with a seventeen-year-old brother, and not that many people can say that.”

I grin and scrunch my brows. “Are you calling me old, Highland?”

“Would you be flattered if I did?”

“No.”

“Then no.”

We laugh.

Jack smiles more at me. “Turn around, I’ll get your back.”