Page 122 of Break the Rule
Andrew hums, nonreactive despite Charlie’s tantrum. “Go take a long shower, you smell horrible.”
Charlie flips him off with both hands, too mad to even speak. Who the fuck does Andrew think he is? He can’t make Charlie shower if he doesn’t want to.
“Also,” Andrew continues, moving towards Charlie’s bed where he sets about stripping the sheets and blankets off to wash, “you need to shave. You look like a grizzly bear.”
“Fuck. You.”
“Okay,” Andrew calmly replies, bustling around the room to open the curtains. He waves to Theo and Jason, which only serves to make Charlie more annoyed. He’s surrounded by meddling assholes.
“Just go away and leave me alone,” Charlie groans.
“I gave you a week, your time is up.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I gave you a week,” Andrew calmly replies. “Eden left last Saturday. Today is Sunday. I made a note to myself to give you a week to wallow, and now it’s time to move on.”
“You can’t fucking schedule people’s emotional breakdowns,” Charlie argues, reaching for the closest thing he can find—a single Croc peeking out from under his bed—and chucking it at Andrew’s head.
Andrew ducks, so the Croc ends up slamming into the wall, hitting one of his favorite paintings and sending it crashing to the floor. Thankfully, it’s only canvas so nothing breaks, but it dislodges something in Charlie. Fuck. Everything is so fucked.
“Get off the floor and shower, Charlie.”
“You can’t fucking make me,” Charlie asserts, fully prepared to rot on the floor.
“I can’t, you’re right, but if I ask Jason and Theo to come in and?—”
“Fine,” Charlie snaps, absolutely refusing to suffer the humiliation of having his younger brother put him in the fucking shower, because there’s no doubt Jason could both pick him up and that he’d do it if Andrew told him to.
“Good. There are towels in there and a new razor. I’m going to start another load of laundry. Come out when you’re done. Me and Alec need to talk to you.”
“What if I don’t want to talk to either one of you?”
“Then you can sit there like the sulky asshole you’ve been all week and listen to us because we’re talking to you.”
“You’re so fucking bossy, Annie.”
“Go.”
Some of the fight goes out of him as he drags his sad, sorry ass off the floor. He doesn’t want to do this, but there’s literally no arguing with Andrew when he’s set his mind to something, and he’s apparently set his mind to Charlie getting over Eden. Which isn’t going to happen. Just thinking about him makes Charlie’s chest ache like he’s been physically hit. Is this how Alec felt for years about Theo? How the fuck did he survive this kind of rejection and heartache when a week of it has Charlie ready to give up on everything, including himself?
Stupid fucking feelings. Everything was easier when it was only sex. He should’ve kept it casual with Eden. Except even thinking that makes Charlie unhappy. From the moment he met Eden, there was nothing casual about his own feelings, and once they fucked he was done for. Eden is something special, something one in a million, and as hurt as Charlie is, he knows he wouldn’t change anything.
“Stop moping and shower.”
“Don’t you have any fucking sympathy?” Charlie whines. “I’m sad.”
“You can be sad and clean,” Andrew points out, grabbing his shoulders and marching him to the bathroom. “Besides, you need to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Yes, you are.”
“You don’t know how I feel.”
“Yes, I do.” Andrew’s voice softens. “I know you’re hurting, Charlie.”
Charlie’s shoulders sag. Heishurting, more than maybe ever. He doesn’t like it at all.
