Betting on You(36)
That made Austin cackle and launch into a story about someone they knew.
But as I engaged with his friends, I wondered why Charlie hadn’t been out in a long time. He worked weekends, yes, but I knew that he was off every single Friday night.
So, what was he doing with his free time? Was he home alone, pining over his ex? Did he have some sort of family obligation that kept him away from his friends? Why had he been MIA?
He was obviously a social person, if the party’s reaction to his appearance was any indication, so what was the deal?
And why am I so curious?
“Oh my God, it’s Charles!” a tiny redhead squealed, then ran over and grabbed Charlie in a big bear hug. She looked overjoyed to see him. “You’ve come back to us!”
She looked at me and said, “Hi. I’m Clio.”
“Bailey,” I said, grinning wildly, because it was impossible not to. Clio had a warm smile, the kind that reached the corners of her eyes and made them crinkle. She just projected kindness. I could feel my shoulders relax.
“Bless you, Bailey, for getting this asshole to quit being a hermit.”
Seriously, what is the story with Charlie’s apparent hermitatude?
Charlie put his hand over Clio’s face and teasingly pushed. “Just because I have a life doesn’t mean I’m a hermit.”
“Whatever.” She reached around him and grabbed a can of Old Milwaukee off the coffee table. “Sit down and get ready to feed us the answers.”
We sat down on the couch, and Charlie leaned closer to me and said, “Just pinch my leg or something if you’re bored, and we’ll go.”
“Like this?” I asked, pinching his leg hard.
He gave his head a slow shake and said, “You are so lucky I’m a nice guy. If Eli did that, I’d drop him.”
“Wow—so macho,” I said under my breath, pulling my phone out to make sure neither of my parents had texted.
I heard Charlie laugh as Clio started telling me the rules of the game. It was like Trivial Pursuit, but made for our generation. All the questions were about things everyone was familiar with, but they hinged upon the tiniest of details.
What color robe was Jess wearing when she and Nick had their first kiss on New Girl?
Every time a team lost a point, they had to stand on the dining room table and perform a song selected by the other players. I teamed up with Clio, and everyone in the house seemed to gravitate over to the living room to get in the game.
Charlie was, apparently, a mercenary. If a team didn’t know the answer, they had the right to pay him a dollar for his help. And shockingly, he was right every single time he was called to serve. So when Clio and I were unsure about the answer to List the exact wrappings around Michael Scott’s foot after he grilled it in his Foreman, Charlie bumped his leg against mine.
I looked at him, and he gave me an obnoxious eyebrow waggle. “You might want to consider sliding a single into my rhetorical thong on this one, Glasses.”
“I’m queasy now—thanks a lot.”
“Do you have a buck, Bailey?” Clio asked me. “Because he might be right. I know Michael Scott’s got Bubble Wrap, but I can’t remember what else.”
I couldn’t. I couldn’t pay Charlie when he was looking so smug, and when he started chanting “Pay the Chuck, pay the Chuck”—and everyone joined in with him, I had to take a stand.
“We don’t need to pay the Chuck,” I said, looking at Charlie and raising my eyebrows. “Michael Scott’s foot was wrapped with clear plastic Bubble Wrap, and that is all.”
“Judges?” Charlie asked, and I did a double take at his face. He looked very pleased, so I knew I’d made a mistake.
“Bailey is right,” the blond girl with the answer card in her hand said. “It is wrapped in Bubble Wrap.”
“Boom,” I said.
“But,” she added, dropping the card and grinning. “That Bubble Wrap is held in place by clear packing tape.”
“That’s not a wrapping,” I yelled, arguing as the room exploded into laughter and noise. “Tape isn’t part of the wrapping; it’s the adhesive.”
Charlie shook his head, laughing, and said, “Why didn’t you listen to me?”
“Because I’d rather sing on a table than let you be right,” I replied.
“Get up and come on,” Clio said to me, smiling a tipsy grin. “We’re up.”
“I mean, I’m just here with Charlie,” I tried as she grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. “As a guest. I shouldn’t be subjected to the same—”
“Come on,” she said, pulling me toward the dining room.
“Charlie,” I said, looking back at him. “Shouldn’t you save me?”
“I tried,” he said, smiling, “but you didn’t want to dip into the proverbial G-string.”
“What song?” Clio asked, using a remote to turn on the karaoke machine after we climbed on top of the dining room table.
Everyone started yelling out suggestions, and then Charlie said, “?‘All Too Well.’ The ten-minute version.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN Charlie
Everyone cheered, and Bailey looked at me like she wanted to stab me in the face. Her eyes narrowed and her brows went down, and it occurred to me that I was 100 percent comfortable with her glaring at me.