Play It Again, Charlie (32 page)

In the end she kept him until she had less than ten minutes to drive to the community center and Charlie had to drive part of the way home through rush hour traffic with his phone buzzing in his pocket. He got home without answering it, stopping in the parking lot to flip through the usual messages and calls from his sisters.

It was later than he usually got home, though it was still very much daylight. He thought about resetting the timers on the security lights as he got out of his car, not that he was in the mood to tramp up and down the stairs today. He ought to enjoy the lack of pain. Despite last night, he only felt a stretch and the occasional twinge, and his happiness at that was somewhat marred with the worry that he'd pull something or collapse, humiliate himself in front of Will. He still could, and he didn't need Will to feel that Charlie needed taking care of.

He was grateful he had lasted as long as he had last night, something that seemed almost miraculous with Will a trembling, sweaty mess beneath him.

Charlie's mouth turned up on its own, and he left the cane there for now and grabbed his bag before locking the car. He listened to his voice mails as he walked. Katia's surprisingly apologetic message about saying too much to Nana slowed him down even more.

He raised his head as he entered the complex, though it was quiet. There was no sign of anything at Grayson's balcony; the only movement anywhere was Mrs. Brown sweeping outside her door. Charlie stared for a moment at the balcony anyway, felt his smile fall though he wasn't surprised. There was no real reason why Will should have been waiting there.

Charlie wiped at his neck and put his phone away before moving on. He was perspiring slightly from the heat of the car, and his heart was pounding from his afternoon jolt of caffeine. He kept his movements slow, waving at Mrs. Brown once he reached the newly planted flowers. She waved back at him, urging him to come over, and Charlie gave a sigh she was too far away to hear.

“Aren't you a ray of sunshine today?” she greeted him. Charlie knew his mouth snapped closed.

“You're looking good today too, Mrs. Brown.” She was. Someone had styled her hair, and Charlie had the fleeting thought that Will had done it until Mrs. Brown patted her hair and went on.

“My granddaughter came by for a visit yesterday, did me up nice.” She patted her hair again. “She brought me some rhubarb, and we made some pies. I set one aside for you. Don't look at me like that.” She slid a look at him, and Charlie tried to appear as though he hadn't been thinking of anything. “Single man like you, you need someone to cook for you.”

Like her granddaughter. Charlie kept his mouth closed while he worked that out, and what the best response would be. He already knew there was no way he was going home without a pie. As a rule, he didn't argue with grandmothers, especially when they were matchmaking.

“Don't worry, this one is married.” Mrs. Brown shook her head, then peeked up at him again. “But I have a grandson who cooks for that new French place downtown... .”

“I don't really eat French food,” Charlie managed. He didn't take much comfort in the fact that he'd been right all along about her grandchildren. He just frowned, not sure if he should explain he wasn't looking to get fixed up or not, if he even had a good reason to say no. Mrs. Brown pursed her lips, then nodded.

“Wait here while I fetch it.” Her tone was familiar. Charlie waited, though he stared after her. He tried not to plead.

“Mrs. Brown, you really don't have to... .”

“All the work you've done for me, it's the least I can do.” Mrs. Brown reappeared with a pie covered in foil and handed it to him. “Good boy like you, you deserve a treat now and then.” She sighed and held her hands together over her chest. “And that boy,” she added, “he's a sweet child, even if he's not too bright. He can have some too. You just let me know what you think of it, so I can tell my grandbaby.”

Charlie stared at her, then blinked at hearing his name bounce across the courtyard. Mrs. Brown looked around him before he could, then raised her eyebrows.

“Good afternoon, William honey,” she said and then shook her head one last time at Charlie— at the grandchild he was apparently rejecting— and then went inside.

Charlie turned around with the pie still in both hands and probably a lost expression on his face. Will stopped a few feet from him, angling his head to one side. He was in a dark-blue, short-sleeved, buttoned shirt and jeans, plain except for the chains dangling from a belt loop. He had his black case in one hand and... his hair was shorter. He was staring at Charlie with sparkling eyes before he saw Charlie's expression and frowned.

“Hey, you're... what?” Will put his other hand up to his hair. He'd cut the sides shorter and trimmed the hair at the top as well. The color was the same, but now his ears, his neck, seemed so much more exposed.

Charlie tried to focus as he kept walking toward Will. He switched the pie to one hand.

“Parents must be the ones with the problems. I'm starting to think that grandparents don't care what you do, as long as you have babies at some point,” he said quietly, glancing around at Mrs. Brown's closed door. When he looked back, Will didn't look any less confused, though he'd noticed the pie.

“Okay.” Will shook his head, not getting it but not arguing. “What does that have to do with a pie?” Charlie focused on him, on his hair again, and how much more skin seemed to be showing, though Will had always worn his hair up.

“You changed your hair,” he commented quietly, and Will suddenly seemed uncertain.

“I got bored.” He shrugged and touched the top. “Sometimes I go a little crazy. It'll grow back,” he added, as though Charlie was worried about it. Charlie reached out, wondering how the shorter parts would feel against his palm, then stopped himself with a look around. Stupid, when Mrs. Brown was the only one likely to care and she clearly wouldn't have been surprised.

He didn't think he should tell Will that she thought he could do better. It would just make things weird. Well, weirder.

“What?” Will asked again. “You have that look on your face that means you're thinking about something
very serious
.”

“I... .” Charlie put his hand in his pocket to get his keys and then kept walking. Will turned to stay with him. Charlie's pulse instantly picked up. “I'm not.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I thought you didn't understand me.”

“Oh, I'm learning things. I'll have you down in no time.” Will bragged and leered a little at the same time, and Charlie shot him a quick, panic-filled look. He looked away in the next moment, staring at his door as he unlocked it. “Like now,” Will went on, and Charlie glanced over in time to see his frown. “You've gone all
blank
. I don't know what that means yet, though.”

“Let me know when you do.” Charlie pushed open the door but waited, lifting an eyebrow when Will waited too. He had a feeling he'd already know when Will had figured him out and gotten bored with him, but hearing it would at least put an end to things.

Will didn't move.

“For an example of the not getting you yet, you're home later than you usually are, but not as late as last Monday. I thought I'd have time to get home, change, the basics. But here you are, all professorish again. Just like I thought I saw this morning.” Will looked him up and down before smiling at him. At the familiar sleepy, pleased grin, Charlie ducked his head.

“Are you coming in or not?” he demanded with an exaggerated sigh, and Will sighed.

“If I must.” He followed that with a grin and then slid inside. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Charlie snorted as he got the door closed and then stood there, with the pie still in one hand.

Will talked as he set his case down. “What's up with your schedule?”

“My friend Jeanine teaches on Monday nights, and last Monday she asked me to cover for her.” Nothing looked out of place in his kitchen, at least. Maybe Will hadn't had time to poke around that morning.

“Ooh, Professor Charlie.” Will hopped up to sit on the counter, looking perfectly relaxed, so Charlie turned and set the pie down on the other counter. “What kind of class? And what about today? You're early... er... late.”

“Self-defense.” Charlie didn't bother to look up, didn't need to. Will muttered, “Well, that explains the cranky mood,” yet he feigned innocence when Charlie finally did glance over. “And today we stopped for coffee before her class.”

“Is she pretty?” Will wanted to know, swinging one leg for a moment. “Is she nice?”

“She's... how would I... ? Yes. She's pretty. And she's nice, in her way.” Charlie privately enjoyed how Will's eyes went round. His growing obsession with how much he liked to see Will off guard might have been why he didn't shut up when he should have. “She's just as curious about you.” He winced at how quickly Will hopped to attention.

“You talked about me?” Will stared for a moment, and then just as his mouth turned up, Charlie turned to put the pie in the fridge. “What... what did you say? No— ” He could hear Will jumping off the counter but didn't turn even with the pie taken care of. The cold air felt good. “Don't tell me.” Will was right behind him. Charlie spun around and got the door closed and then Will was in front of him, grinning. “Not yet. First, ask me what I did today.”

Charlie knew a smile slipped out at the command, and it only increased Will's grin. But he asked anyway. “What did you do today?”

“Well, I was completely
exhausted
, so I slept in until this
very
nice, very serious man in a suit woke me up.” Will flicked Charlie's tie up and then wrapped it around his hand. Charlie would have protested except that he was struck dumb by how close Will was and what he was doing. Will frowned, briefly diverted by some thought that he had to share. “You know, it's almost summer. You could probably start leaving the jacket at home.”

He released the tie to push at Charlie's jacket. Charlie didn't stop him. “Then I practically flew to my first appointment. Which ended up being two appointments, because she asked me to do her daughter's hair too, and I thought I had time, but it took forever, because people always want their kids to do things they clearly do not want to do.” Will got the jacket off Charlie's shoulders and down his arms. He folded and put it on the counter before returning to fiddling with Charlie's tie. Charlie would almost have said it was a nervous tic, except that he couldn't think of why Will would be nervous.

“
Then
I had a trial day with a bitc... bride-to-be, and that took
hours
. I told her updos aren't my specialty, but there's no reasoning with a happy bride. But.” Will had a good hold on the tie, probably more than he realized. Charlie had to lower his head or choke to death. When he ducked, Will narrowed his eyes and aimed a smile at him. “I had time between all of that to run a few errands.”

Charlie frowned briefly, not following why that was important until Will cupped his crotch. He exhaled sharply and Will looked smug. “You forgot, didn't you? I had a feeling you would.” He lifted his eyebrows to look disappointed and knowing at the same time. Mostly knowing. He wrinkled his nose and grinned, and Charlie firmed his lips. He hadn't forgotten, he just... hadn't remembered. And he hadn't wanted to get his hopes up.

He put his hands at Will's waist and tugged him forward. He got a leg between Will's at the same time and turned until Will had his back to the counter.

“Shit.” The impressed look on Will's face made Charlie take a deep breath. “I've
got
to take that class.”

“It's for women,” Charlie informed him with some smugness of his own. Will still had a hold of his tie, and he tugged on it.

“Hmm, and I bet they love you,” he murmured against Charlie's mouth. “I bet they line up to have you get them on their backs.” His tone stayed knowing, but his hand left the tie, went into Charlie's hair. It moved a second later, dropping to Charlie's belt and then coming to a stop over his dick again. It stayed there for a moment, pressing insistently. Charlie closed his eyes. “And you like it,” Will was still whispering, getting Charlie's eyes back open. “You get to be all bossy and protective, maybe a little rough.”

“I don't.” He shook his head slowly to deny it, and Will laughed. His breath was warm on Charlie's mouth before he turned his head away to put his lips to Charlie's ear.

“Like you didn't enjoy shoving me against the counter.” His voice was quietly singsong, mocking because he had to feel how Charlie's cock jumped at the words.

“I didn't shove you,” Charlie told him, because he hadn't, damn it, and Will laughed softly. He moved, and Charlie felt his mouth, his bottom lip, on the skin beneath his ear, as though Will was pouting, as though he'd
wanted
Charlie to shove him against the counter. Like Charlie had let himself imagine once, pushing between Will's legs right against the sink. If the counter had been a few inches lower, he could have lifted Will onto it, let Will wrap his legs around him as he thrust against his jeans. It wasn't lower, but it
was
solid, and right
there
, sandwiching Will up against him.

He'd pushed forward, he realized, and Will had liked it. The evidence of that was against the thigh he still had wedged between Will's legs. He was glad his jacket was gone. He was suddenly very hot.

“And now you're all riled again.” Will approved, with his words, with his tongue, licking a patch of Charlie's skin and laughing gently over the wet spot. Charlie shivered, then frowned. He wasn't riled. He didn't get riled if he could help it. He pressed his palms flat against Will's waist, got his back to the counter, and held him there, surprised when Will shuddered. One of his hands twisted itself into Charlie's tie again, and the other pushed against his dick, curving a little at the rush of blood, how it grew.

“I'm not riled, I'm aroused,” Charlie informed him, his throat constricting around the words. It didn't put an end to Will's amusement, but he
did
nod, moving his palm up and down over the proof of that.