Starting from Scratch (Starting from 2)

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. This is fun for now, but it’s not your passion,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I can tell. And when you leave the band, you’re not leaving Oliver too.”

I flashed a feral smile as I stepped into his space again. “Are you kicking me out of the band, Char?”

“No. I’m hoping you leave on your own.”

“Why? Because you don’t like me? Oh no, don’t answer.” I put my finger on his lips and snatched it away with a laugh when he bit me. “No biting.”

“Back off.”

“Not until you listen to me. I don’t care if you like me or not. I’m not giving you the satisfaction of going anywhere. That means you get to see me practically every day for a long, long time. Either get civil fast or watch the fuck out. I can get nasty too.”

“Are you threatening me?” he asked incredulously.

“Not at all. I’m just reminding you how things are. We work together, Char, and we have friends in common. Why make everyone miserable by acting like an asshole? Be fucking nice. Got it?”

Charlie crossed his arms and glared. “No.”

“Well, I suggest you work on it. Or it’s ‘game on,’ baby.”

I winked ’cause I knew he hated it. Then I propped my skateboard in front of my crotch and clandestinely adjusted myself when my dick swelled against the Velcro seam of my shorts. Charlie growled before disappearing inside Scoops.

And just like that, the taunting grin I’d given him became a genuine smile.

Okay, I admit it. I liked ruffling Charlie’s feathers, but I had no desire to get on his bad side. First of all, he was too damn smart. Charlie could chew me up and spit me out without blinking. And though he didn’t strike me as the malicious type, I should have been slightly concerned that he might go out of his way to cause trouble within the band. It was hard enough to get four guys with strong personalities to cooperate some days in the studio. Add an excitable manager with a flair for theatrics and anything could happen.

But there was something about Charlie that drew me in every damn day. Sometimes I egged him on just to get a reaction out of him. He’d give me his signature icy once-over with a straight spine and his hands on his hips, then blast me with a dramatic dose of reality that got to me every time. I’d never met anyone who could make me laugh one second and want to put a muzzle on him the next.

We’d been going at each other like this since the day we met. Charlie jumped down my throat when I’d insulted his rock and roll knowledge. Before I could apologize for the unintended slight, he made it crystal clear that he’d happily tear me a new one if I didn’t watch my step around him.

For the last six months, we’d been tormenting each other with silly jabs and harmless pranks. For example, last week he put googly eyes on the coffee cups littering the table in the studio. There were three and yeah, they all happened to be mine. He didn’t just put one pair of eyes on each cup, though. He covered them with those little fuckers, and they were hard to remove. I retaliated the next morning, dropping a plastic spider into his coffee when he wasn’t looking. Big mistake. In my defense, I didn’t know he was deathly afraid of arachnids. He screamed bloody murder and didn’t talk to me for days. Now he wanted me out of the band. Not gonna happen.

It took insane willpower not to go after him and demand to know what the hell he was thinking. At the very least, I would’ve loved to march back inside and find twenty new ways to wind him up. But not with Oliver there. Family dynamics were tricky. No one knew that better than I did.

I turned away from Scoops and pulled my phone from my pocket when it buzzed. Missed call from Karly. I secured my earbuds and pushed Call as I jumped on my board and headed down Santa Monica Boulevard. I veered to the right to avoid crashing into a posse of muscle studs exiting the gym and leaned into the turn on Hilldale before coming to a stop at my ancient white pickup.

“Hey, did you butt dial or call me on purpose?” I asked.

“I called. I wanted to be sure you’re okay.”

“I saw you half an hour ago, Kar. Of course I’m okay.” I tossed my board on the floor of the passenger side before putting the key in the ignition and fastening my seat belt.

“Don’t bite my head off. I worry about you, Ky. You know, I didn’t want to tell you because you get so worked up about him. I just thought you’d want to know.”