Behind His Lens(21)

A familiar giggle fills my ears and I tilt my head slightly to watch Charley break through the crowd. Tom has his hand on the small of her back, leading her to the table, and I have to physically push past the urge to break his fingers. I try to remind myself, for the last time, that I don’t give a f*ck as I take a gulp of my domestic.

I don’t know what they’ve done in the past five minutes, but she somehow looks even more tipsy and neither one of them has a drink their hands.

“Hi everyone!” she sings as her gaze falls over Josh and the guys. They all sit up a little straighter as she nears and mutter awkward hellos. For a moment, their schoolboy reactions make me think that maybe I don’t even feel anything for her; maybe this is the effect she has on every man. I let that thought settle in for a minute, and although the idea of going back to my old life sounds compelling, I know I’m wrong. She’s gorgeous, yes, but there’s something about her — her softness, her hidden complexities, her humble nature— that has woven its way around my mind, threatening to undo me. I want to know everything about her. I want to know what she’s hiding behind those captivating, blue eyes.

Fuck.

I watch her slide into the chair next to me less gracefully than she had a few minutes ago, and I can almost taste the tequila in the air.

“Did you guys take shots at the bar?” I ask, annoyed at the edge in my voice.

She looks up at me with her innocent, doe eyes.

“She made me, Jude!” Tom laughs behind me. I want to kill him.

Charley giggles with him and gently sways in her chair. I can’t imagine how a girl her size could force anyone to do anything. Not to mention, he should have noticed how drunk she was already.

“I’m curious. How did she force you?” I’m asking Tom, but my gaze never leaves Charley.

She bites her lip and angles her eyes at me accusingly, “I can be very persuasive.”

The rest of the guys laugh off her comment and start talking about some football game scheduled for the next day, but I can’t turn away from her. She’s bewitched me and there’s no hope of breaking the spell.

Her eyes fleet quickly around the table and by the time they flash back to me I can see the concern written across them. She leans in closely and folds her hands over her stomach.

“I don’t feel so good.”

Of course you don’t, I want to say, but I bite my tongue.

“Did you eat dinner?” I ask softly, surprised at how quickly my anger turned to concern.

She mashes her lips together and shakes her head.

“Charley, you can’t drink like this and not eat dinner before,” I chide, but the moment I get the words out I instantly regret them. All of a sudden she looks so young and innocent. I want to make her feel better. I don’t care if she is naive, she doesn’t deserve to be sick.

I wrap my arm around the back of her chair and lean in. “Do you want to go home?” I ask, watching her eyes grow wide in shock, and I can’t help but chuckle.

“Not with me… Do you want me to take you to your home and then I’ll go back to mine?” I clarify, but I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince her or myself. I won’t want to leave her if she’s sick.

“Um…” she hums, glancing across the table toward Naomi. I follow her gaze to find her friend in the middle of a heated make out session with Bennett. He has Naomi practically pinned to the chair as she drags her hands through his once perfectly gelled hair. Jeez, that escalated quickly.

“I could probably just go home by myself,” Charley says, nodding once and then twice as if she’s trying to convince herself that’s what she should do.

“I can’t let you do that, Charley.”

I can’t add her life to my guilty conscious. There’s no more room.

“No, really, Jude. I don’t want to inconvenience you,” she adds, already standing and looking around at the group.

“I’m gonna head home,” she announces to the table. “I have to, uh, wake up early in the morning. Naomi, I’ll text you tomorrow,” she offers with a weak smile. Tom begins to stand and I shoot him a death stare. He is not going to take her home. I should have stepped up this morning and told the guys she was off limits, but I’m not going to make the same mistake again.

Tom stands frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do.

“I’ve got her.” My tone couldn’t be clearer. I’m not going to fight Tom about this. He needs to back down. “I’ll see you guys next week.”