Charming Like Us (Like Us, #7)

by Krista Ritchie

I’m thirty-two and still getting butterflies from a handhold, and we’ve already run some bases together.

Jack squeezes. “Not too tight for you?” “Never too tigh...

“Charlie ran through the poison ivy too, so if he did it on purpose, he’s knowingly making himself suffer.” “Yeah.” I nod slowly. “He doesn’t have much care for his own life.”

“I don’t want this to change him,” Jack confesses. “I don’t want him to be bitter or for him to lose his innocence too fast.” I think about Quinn.

“Are you calling me old, Highland?” “Would you be flattered if I did?” “No.” “Then no.” We laugh.

“Turn around, I’ll get your back.” “I’ll do you first.”

“Is this what it was like?” he asks me. “Back when you were fourteen and had a sexual awakening at summer camp?” I laugh, a soft breathy one that feels gentle. “Are you feeling sexually awakened, Long Beach?”

“I’m feeling something.” Me too, but I can’t say the words, he’s already telling me,

“You said half the fun of fucking is the discovery. I have questions.” “No surprise there,” I joke.

Even if I try to be gentle with you, I’m not soft. I’m going to feel rough and hard.”

“I’d do anything to feel you right now, Oscar, and usually, I can flash a smile and get my way but that works only 50% of the time with you. So I’d honestly grovel if that’s what it takes—” “Don’t grovel,” I cut in and lean in, cupping the back of his head.

“You want to know what I like to do?” I whisper against his mouth. A jagged groan scrapes his throat. “Yeah, yeah, I want to know.”

“Jesus fuck.” His hands fly to his head. He keeps doing that. It’s actually really fucking cute.

“You prefer it rough?” I try not to laugh. “You think this is rough?”

“What was that to you then”—he pants—“if it wasn’t rough?” I skim him for answers and to ensure he’s okay. “Did you enjoy it?” His smile bursts forth. “Yeah.” He wets his lips. “I definitely did.”

“I’d call that me being more aggressive, not necessarily rough. I’m not yanking your hair, Long Beach. I’m just in control.” His eyes sink into me. “You like to top?” I lean closer and whisper against his ear, “What happened to letting my body show you?”

“You’re killing me, Os.” Os? I sit up off Jack in a jolt.

“You don’t like nicknames?” I love them. I’d give him a hundred corny, sappy nicknames if I could.

“Just so you’re aware, being a top or bottom has nothing to do with being dominant or submissive. Dominant bottoms exist.”

I want to tell Highland right here that I do prefer to top. That the last time I bottomed was over ten-years ago. I want to tell him that I’ll take care of him if he’s nervous, and I’d never pressure him to do anything he’s not ready to do.

Fate. The stars in the sky. Aligning for him and me.

“So,” I say, “when exactly did you know you were into me, Highland?” He chokes on a sound that I think was supposed to be a laugh. “When I met you.” I rock back, my skull touching the wall. “That was…five years ago.”

Jack Highland was just twenty-two and a production assistant for We Are Calloway.

But it was always professional. Until the tour bus. Until the FanCon. And then…gloves off, I guess.

And then he rejected me, but now he’s embracing me, and he’s saying he’s felt a connection early, early on.

I am in…way too deep. And I don’t want to swim back out.

“I thought you probably just had what I had.” He flashes a smile. “Charm.” I grin. “I do have that, Long Beach.”

“How could I miss something this monumental about myself for so long? Twenty-seven-years, dude. It feels like fog is shifting and everything is so clear, and I just wish I had that clarity sooner.” I would’ve asked him out.

This moment. The what if game hurts, and look at me, still playing that game.

“I’m not planning out my future anymore. I’m just going to see where the ride takes me.” He makes a wave motion with his hand. I laugh weakly. “How California of you.”

“It is my favorite place on Earth.” “The longer you’re with me, the more likely that’ll change to Philly.”

We like each other. I’m helping him through the clouds. That has to be enough right now.

New York ballet companies—it’s fit for royalty, so no one should be surprised a Cobalt would be here. Least of all me. The man guarding one.

Charlie is sleeping, the program for Romeo & Juliet splayed over his eyes.

We wear well-tailored black tuxes. Like we’re the kings for the night.

Our eyes keep snagging, holding a beat too long, and I’ve edged closer to Highland. My arm wants to splay over his chair like we’re on a date.

Nothing has felt more like a first date than this moment with him. And I’m on...

“What about you, Highland?” “Probably yes.” He tilts his head to me. “I really love art.”

I chose a career that outwardly showcases brawn more than intelligence, and not everyone can see how much common sense, strategy, and brains it takes to be a damn good bodyguard.

What do I care? It’s not like we’re a couple, and I might never meet his parents.

But I do know Jack’s family means a lot to him, and naturally, I don’t just want to be on their good side or best side, but rather their favorite side.

He has a softer smile when he talks about his family. Like he’s cradling all the loving memories.

His service ended, and they both wound up in my dad’s hometown.” “Long Beach?” I ask. “Long Beach,” he confirms with a nod.

But damn am I wrong. Please call Jo. She’s saying she’s moving to Alaska! – Mom

We both open our mouths like we have too much to say in so little time, but the orchestra pumps up the tempo. Our gazes veer to the stage again.

I lean into Jack to whisper, “We don’t like him.” “Romeo?” “The guy who plays Romeo.”

“Leo Valavanis. Beckett’s rival in the company.” He smiles more as he asks, “Who is we? You, Donnelly, and Farrow?” “No, no, no.” I hold up a hand. “At least not Farrow. Donnelly, yeah. We encompasses anyone who’s Team Cobalt, and Farrow has always been Team Hale, even before the Husband.”

“Choose your sides wisely, Highland.” He leans back in his chair. “Production can’t pick a side. I’m Team Everyone.” A grin edges across my mouth...

“You know, if I had to pick a side, I’d just choose yours.” My chest swells, then knots. On guard.

Deep down, I know they’re genuine and made specifically for me.