Betting on You(35)

But it was early.

People glanced at us as we passed, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that all eyes were on us. I tucked my hair behind my ears, tugged at the hem of my sweater. Yes, I was starting to feel a bit insecure, which was probably why Charlie leaned closer and murmured into my ear, “Let’s go in the kitchen.”

It was in the kitchen—I was right; ZERO dips—where a tall blond guy said, “Fucking finally, Sampson. I was starting to think you were blowing us off.”

Charlie gestured toward me. “I had to pick up Bailey first.”

“Finally we meet Bailey.” The blond guy, who was leaning casually against the counter, flashed me a nice grin. “I’m Adam—I’m sure he’s told you all about me—and this is Evan and Eli.”

I floundered for a second, totally taken aback as I glanced toward the two guys sitting at the table. Charlie mentioned me to his friends?

“Hey,” I said, smiling and pretending like I’d previously known of their existence. “Nice to meet you guys.”

“What do you think of this shirt?” Evan asked, pointing at his pink button-down.

“Christ, man, can you shut up about the shirt?” Adam muttered, grinning and shaking his head.

“I would but you won’t,” Evan said loudly.

Eli laughed and said, “It’s fucking beautiful, dude—just shut up about it already.”

“I like it,” I said, unsure if Evan actually wanted my opinion.

“Beer?” Adam asked.

“No, thanks,” Charlie said. “Bay?”

“No, thanks,” I agreed, looking at him and wondering if he usually drank and was just saying no because of me. Regardless, I was glad he wasn’t drinking that night. I wasn’t anti-booze, but I was a little too much of a control freak to handle the idea of losing my inhibitions in front of other people.

“I gotta be honest,” Eli said, “I pictured you a little more, uh—”

“Ugly?” Evan looked at Eli and nodded his head in agreement. “Same.”

“What?” I looked at Charlie. “You told them I’m ugly?”

“No.” He laughed.

“No,” Eli said. “He just talks about you like you’re some guy he works with. He failed to mention that you’re—”

“Not that ugly?” I said, looking at Charlie, unable to hold in a laugh.

“Exactly,” Eli said, looking relieved that I hadn’t taken his words the wrong way.

“Charlie,” someone yelled from the living room. “We need you.”

He looked at me and said, “Care to be the official phone-a-friend with me?”

“Huh?”

“Charlie is a trivia god, so everyone wants him on their team,” Eli said, picking up the can of Ultra in front of him. “So much so that he’s become a free agent, where players can pay to phone-a-Charlie.”

I looked at him in shock. “Is this true? Are you smart?”

“I’m a genius,” he said, so typically Charlie.

“He actually is,” Eli said.

“Shut up.” I mean, Charlie was obviously an intelligent person, but he’d never struck me as someone who would care enough to do well in school. People with attitudes like his usually ditched class and slept during lectures.

Was he seriously a genius?

“Charlie!” The group at the dining room table all yelled like their favorite person in the world had just walked in, but he gave them a half smile and lifted a hand in the air as if this was normal.

Actually, it seemed like everyone was happy to see him, and not just because of his apparent trivia prowess. Just about each person we passed as we went into the living room smiled and shouted a “Charlie!” in his direction. As if Charlie were their old buddy back from some sort of long trip.

I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I liked Charlie—wow, I actually did like Charlie—but it was somehow surprising that so many other people did. I would’ve imagined him being too much of an acquired taste for the general population. Kind of an IYKYK type of guy.

“Sampson!” A guy in a black-and-white T-shirt and red jeans—and a full beard—screamed. “When Tad said you were coming, I couldn’t believe it. I haven’t seen you out in forever.”

“I work every weekend,” Charlie said, then looked at me. “This is Bailey, by the way.”

“Hey, Bailey,” he said, grinning like I was fantastic just for being with Charlie. “I’m Austin.”

“I love your pants, Austin,” I said, wishing I’d taken Eli’s proffered beer just so I had something in my hand to make me look like I fit in. “Bold choice.”

“Right?” he agreed, looking down at his red jeans. “The way I see it, these babies send a message that I know exactly who I am.”

“You are Red Jeans Man,” I said around a laugh, instantly taking to Austin. He looked like the kind of guy who was always smiling. And there was some sort of positive energy surrounding him, which was a definite contrast to Charlie’s aura. These two are friends? I guess opposites do attract.

“Also known as Questionable Choices Man,” Charlie added. “Or perhaps Fashion Don’t Dude.”