Page 23 of Break the Rule
“Nope,” Charlie answers honestly. “I was texting Andrew.”
The frown on his face stays firmly in place. Right, Andrew. Eden remembers him from the gallery last weekend. The polite twin. Sexual attraction is so fucking weird because Andrew and Charlie share the same face, but there’d been absolutely zero attraction to Charlie’s twin brother. Somehow all the arousal is only for Charlie, which honestly, fuck that shit.
“You can move along and order now. Assuming that’s why you’re here and not because you’re stalking me or something.”
“I’m not stalking you,” Charlie objects. “Do you work here?”
“That sounds like the kind of question a stalker would ask.”
“Or a friend.”
“We’re not friends,” Eden points out, unsure why this makes Charlie laugh. Maybe he was dropped on his head a lot as a child.
Charlie’s laugh is somewhere between a chortle and the sound a horse makes when it wants an apple. Not that Eden knows jack shit about horses aside from all the pony cartoons he watches with Ella. Either way, Charlie’s laugh is really unattractive thankfully, because the day Eden is attracted to someone’s laugh is the day pigs fly.
Maybe if Eden focuses on that sound he will stop noticing what a perfect length and texture Charlie’s hair is. Perfect to grab or to hold him in place while he—no. Bad Eden. Eden needs to fucking shake his own brain to stop this. He is not going to have a fantasy about fucking Charlie’s mouth right now. Or ever. Eden’s brain can fuck right off with this attraction bullshit. At this point, Eden is walking proof that sexuality isn’t a choice because in no universe would Eden choose to be attracted to men, especially not men who look like their outfit inspiration came from the entire rainbow all at once.
“Has anyone else told you that you have a gift for making everything sound as negative and sinister as possible?” Charlie leans against the side of the worn, brown booth—a relic from the donut shop that was here before. He crosses his arms over his chest, drawing Eden’s attention to the way his low cut floral shirt exposes the hollow of his throat and his tan skin. There’s a light dusting of chest hair, and Eden either needs to get laid or walk into oncoming traffic. Seriously, what the fuck is he doing checking Charlie out while simultaneously trying to get him to go away? A therapist would have a fucking field day with Eden, not that he’d let one within one hundred feet of him after his traumatic childhood experiences with state mandated therapy. He doesn’t need to pay a stranger to tell him he’s got a laundry list of issues, thank you.
“I’ve been told a lot of things about myself,” Eden says, trying to focus on anything besides how much he wants to bite Charlie’s throat. “Look, you don’t know anything about me.”
“You’re right. I don’t know you, but maybe I could.”
“Why are you still talking to me?”
“You know where I’m from, this is called polite conversation. Maybe you should try it.”
“Unfortunately for you, I’m not polite.” Eden smiles. Addy is always telling him he needs to smile more at work so he doesn’t get fired. He’s definitely going to tell her about this monumental act of social skills.
“Smiling is pretty polite,” Charlie points out.
This fucker. Eden can’t decide if he wants to fuck him or hit him or both.
“Go ahead and order, Charlie. Or leave. Your choice.”
There. Not polite. No confusion.
“You remember my name.” Charlie’s pleasure at this is as unmistakable as the way his gaze lingers on Eden’s mouth, whether because of the double lip piercings he’s allowed to wear working here or because Charlie wants to kiss him is unclear. Either way, it doesn’t really matter because Eden does not care what Charlie thinks of his piercings, or what he might think if he knew Eden’s tongue was also pierced. Hedoesn’t. He also doesn’t kiss,ever, so all of these thoughts are pointless.
“Yes, well, that’s not a big deal,” Eden grumbles, absolutely refusing to admit he had Addy find out his name that first night he saw him at the gallery. Over his dead body will he ever admit tothat. “You’re really obnoxious, and annoying things are memorable, that’s all. You’re not special.”
“If you say so,” Charlie laughs. It’s a quieter laugh than before, quicker too. “You know some people might say that being memorable is a stepping stone to other things like friendship, maybe even sex.”
“Some people think jumping out of an airplane is a good idea, so some people are fucking stupid.”
“If I’m so memorable, does that mean you’ve been thinking about me?” Charlie asks, seemingly undeterred by Eden’s personality. Another negative for him. If he’s not put off by Eden’s sharp tongue and bad manners, there’s definitely something wrong with him.
“Nope,” Eden lies, grabbing the mop and dragging it over the same spot he just cleaned before Charlie walked in. The last thing he needs is for anyone, especially Charlie, to know that he jerked off to Charlie four times this week. That’s going to stay between his fucked up brain and his shower, thank you very much.
“So you work here then?” Charlie muses, staring at Eden with far too much intensity for his liking.
Between Eden’sdon’t-look-at-mebaggy black clothing, which is in stark contrast to hisnotice-meeye makeup and his resting bitch face, people usually have no idea what to do with him, so they do nothing. They look once then look away, which is how he likes it. Charlie looked and hasn’t stopped looking, and while Eden’s dick is on board with the attention, his brain is definitelynot.
“Those are some impressive observational skills, what, did you major in the obvious?”
“Actually I got my degree in fine arts with a concentration in painting,” Charlie answers. “I almost went for my masters but decided I wanted to experience art over learning about it which is how I got a job at the Santa Leon Art Museum. Although I work freelance now.”
Ugh. Handsome and educated. Yet another reason it was a good idea not to fuck him. Eden didn’t even graduate high school. Not that he’s embarrassed by his lack of education. Not exactly. It’s not Eden’s fault the foster system and by extensionthe public school system is broken. A few times—usually when he struggled to find a decent paying job—he considered trying to get his GED. The classes themselves aren’t too expensive, but he can’t afford to pay for classes and lose work attending them. Besides, as far as Eden is concerned, it’s not worth stressing out over a stupid ass piece of paper that won’t change anything.
