Page 64 of Break the Rule
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Charlie, get in the fucking car.” Andrew walks around to his side, opening the door before all but shoving Charlie in. He allows it, but only because he’s not in the mood to call a ride. Andrew is here, and the least he can do after throwing Charlie under the bus at a family dinner is drive him home where he can wallow in peace.
“You know you’re acting like a toddler.”
“Me,” Charlie balks, buckling his seatbelt. “You’re the one who threw a piece of bread at me at dinner.”
“That’s because you wouldn’t stop rubbing two forks together to make that metal on metal scraping sound you know I hate. It made me wanna rip my skin off.”
Purposely making a noise he knows deregulates Andrew was probably juvenile and a dick move, but Charlie had been pissed off after being thrown under the bus the second he walked through the door for a family dinner. A dinner to which Jason had brought Emerson as hisboyfriend. Charlie wasn’t so put outabout the second part. Emerson is kind of disgustingly perfect for Jason, and he’s happy for them both, but the timing means he lost the bet that he, Andrew, and Alec have had going for years. Charlie was so sure that Jason wouldn’t have his bi-awakening until he hit thirty-five. Fucking Andrew pegged it down to the year and month with a frankly terrifying clarity.
“Just because you didn’t like that sound didn’t mean we needed projectile carbohydrates. You almost hit Emerson. That poor boy looked shell-shocked all dinner.”
“He did look kind of like a deer in headlights,” Andrew agrees, starting the engine. “To be fair, dinner at the King house would be a lot for anyone, autistic or not.”
“I still can’t believe Jason brought a boyfriend home,” Charlie sighs, slumping back into the seat. “With no warning. How did none of us know?”
“Theo knew.”
“I can’t believe Theo knew and didn’t tell Alec. How long do you think Alec is gonna give him shit about that for?”
“A long time,” Andrew laughs.
“I’m still pissed off at you,” Charlie says, needing to remind him.
“Be honest,” Andrew prompts, slowly backing away from the curb. “Are you more pissed off about what I said or about losing the bet?”
“Both, obviously,” Charlie grumbles, crossing his arms. “I can’t believe you told everyone I was dating someone. What the fuck? I’m not dating anyone. I’m perfectly happy being a single slut.”
“Should I put that on your next cake? ‘Happy Birthday to the Single Slut of Santa Leon.’”
“Joke’s on you, we always share a cake. That makes you fifty percent slut.”
“Maybe this year I’ll do something different.”
“The day you do something different, I’ll eat my hat.”
“You don’t wear a hat.”
“Not the point, Andrew.”
“I hate it when you call me Andrew,” he frowns.
“That’s literally your name,” Charlie points out.
“I know that, but you don’t use it. I feel like I’m in trouble when you do that.” Andrew’s face falls, and Charlie feels a little bit guilty. He was maybe, possibly, really mean to Andrew all night because of what he said.
“Who the fuck were you texting all evening anyway?” Charlie asks, finding it easier to focus on his curiosity than his guilt, or his inability to stop thinking about Eden. After the boundaries they established, Charlie never should’ve pushed for more but he did, and then Eden fled. Even then, Charlie couldn’t stop himself from trying to seek him out at his job—maybe not the best idea since he’d hidden from him there too. At this point, it’s clear Eden wants nothing to do with him, so Andrew’s jokes about Charlie seeing someone possibly struck a nerve.
“My therapist. I asked if she had an emergency appointment for you.”
“Oh fuck you very much. Seriously, who was it?”
“Someone.”
“Someonewho,” Charlie demands, jabbing his fingers at Andrew’s dash to change the music. Without rising to the bait, Andrew changes it back. “Every single person you text was in that house. Mom, Dad, Alec and Theo, Jason and his new boyfriend, and me. You don’t text anyone else.”
