Page 41 of Break the Rule
The petty, childish part of Charlie wants to refuse the offer. The part of Charlie that’s starving and suddenly out of sorts about his own jealous realization wants to fill his stomachwith enough carbs to overcome his brain’s current chemical imbalance.
“Sure, thank you.”
Theo smiles, sliding the plate across the table then the syrup. Charlie’s dumping a generous amount over the top when he catches sight of Alec mouthing ‘thank you’ at Theo who is looking at Alec like he hung the goddamn moon. It’s absolutely astounding to him sometimes that after spending years telling Alec his feelings would never be returned, it actually happened. Charlie hates being wrong, but maybe this time it isn’t so bad.
Shoving a huge bite of pancakes into his mouth, he watches the way Alec moves around the kitchen, but more importantly the way Theo’s eyes trail after him like he can’t get enough. Like he knows exactly how precious Alec is. Good. As he fucking should.
A second bite of perfect pancakes is on its way into his mouth when Alec grabs his wrist, stopping him. The pancakes fall off the fork, plopping to the plate with a heavy splat from the sheer amount of syrup soaked into them.
“Hey,” Charlie gripes.
“Who is Ella?”
“No one,” Charlie lies, pulling his wrist back.
“Oh hell no,” Alec says, lowering the other plate of pancakes he was holding in front of Theo before redirecting his full attention to Charlie. “You are the king of bragging about your one-night stands. Who is she?”
“Not a she,” Charlie corrects.
“Who ishe?” Alec rewords without missing a beat. He grabs the back of one of the kitchen chairs and spins it so he can sit on it backwards, resting his forearms on the back of the chair while staring at Charlie with a frankly startling level of intensity. Luckily, Charlie is well-versed in handling Alec. “Come on, was itthe guy from last night who gave you all those marks? Tell your favorite brother all about it.”
“You mean like you told me about Jason and Emerson,” Charlie counters, stabbing his pancakes hard enough to splash syrup all over his fingers.
“I told you I was sorry,” Alec grumbles. “I had a big paper that weekend and forgot.”
“I can tell you about Jason and Emerson,” Theo offers.
Recognizing the peace offering for what it is, and never one to turn down gossip, Charlie turns his attention to Theo. “You just became my new favorite future brother-in-law. Spill. How long has he known Emerson? He’s got feelings for him right? We’re not surprised about this because he’s a redhead? What’s his astrological sign? Does he?—”
“Amazing as this sudden bonding is,” Alec interrupts, “I want to know who the fuck Ella is.”
“He’s no one. Just some guy I hooked up with.”
There’s no lie in his words, yet they make his next bite of pancakes hard to swallow. He should be as easy to forget as every other one night stand. The heaviness in his chest suggests otherwise, which makes no sense. They both agreed that last night was a one and done. Hell, his guy had been adamant.
Despite their agreement, Charlie can’t help but think that maybe it could be two and done. It’s not like Charlie has never fucked the same person twice. He doesn’t have some kind of self-imposed rule against it, and even if he did, rules are more of guidelines than hard and fast things to obey. Besides, there is still so much Charlie wants to do with him. He’d barely had a chance to get his mouth on all that pretty pale skin, hadn’t left any of his own marks or even gotten his mouth on his dick. Fuck, what Charlie wouldn’t give to have his head under his skirt and a mouth full of dick.
He’d give a lot.A lot.
“Focus.” Alec snaps his fingers in front of Charlie’s face. “Ella. The bracelet. This dopey look on your face. Fess up.”
“Maybe I’m just that well-fucked,” Charlie smirks, refusing to admit, even to Alec, the nagging sense that there’s more. “He was gorgeous with those blue eyes and—” suddenly Charlie sees it. A canvas. Streaks of blues. A ballgown. His Cinderella. He’d be the most beautiful thing Charlie ever painted, broad strokes of acrylic that demand attention the same way he had.
Pushing his chair back, Charlie stands. “I need to go.”
“Go?” Alec frowns. “Where?”
“My studio. I just…have an idea. I need to get it out before I forget.”
Alec rolls his eyes, but grabs one of the pancakes off the plate on the counter that has no syrup, rolling it up like a tortilla before passing it to Charlie. “Go on, I know you won’t listen to a damn thing I have to say when you’ve got that look in your eye. I’m going to leave the leftovers in your fridge so you can have a real breakfast tomorrow. I’ll clean up, and then me and Theo will be out of your hair. I’ll text Andrew to come check on you and make sure you come up for water and food at some point.”
Charlie hears him, but the words only half-register, his mind a million miles away. Or more accurately, his mind is already in his studio—fingers twitching with the need to get the image in his mind on a canvas before it consumes him.
Maybe this is all it is. Charlie’s the kind of man to hyperfocus on something, and then once he’s got his fill he moves on. Once he gets this painting of his very own Cinderella down on something tangible he’ll be easy to let go of.
One painting and then Charlie can move on.
Charlie King is a liar.A lying fucking liar who lies.
