Page 15 of My Boyfriend Marks Trees
“Does she really?” The truck swerved as he turned to look at his sister.
“Yes, really.”
“She told me she doesn’t want to date.”
“I get the feeling she might change her mind. The vibe between you two is hard to ignore. Just remember what I said and take it slow.”
It might kill him because he wanted nothing more than to kiss Charly—among other things.
Sniff her crotch.
Yeah, that might have to wait even longer.
Should pee on her lawn to warn off others.
Again, not something he should be doing in public. The neighbors would call the cops on him.
Shopping didn’t take long. Selene walked into the store and picked the girliest, most flowery suitcase they had. She then insisted on getting a gift for the dinner invite, a bottle of white wine.
When they returned and Selene handed it over, Charly’s brows lifted. “That wasn’t necessary.”
“No, but I insist we drink it.”
“I don’t have wine glasses.” Charly opened a cupboard, showing off mismatched cups.
“In college, I used to drink mine out of a travel mug. It prevented me from spilling it.”
Charly’s lips curved. “No travel mug but I’ve got plastic sippy ones.”
“Sippy cup, please,” Selene exclaimed. She glanced at Greta. “We can be juice buddies.”
His sister actually meant it. She clinked her pink cup with its spill-proof lid filled with wine against Greta’s, which held apple juice. Ares abstained since he’d be driving, but Charly had a glass with dinner, which turned out to be the best mac and cheese with hunks of ham he’d ever eaten. He made sure to tell her so.
“You’re just saying that,” Charly huffed as he helped her clear the dishes. They’d sent Selene to watch Christmas cartoons with Greta.
“I will have you know I take my food seriously.”
“It’s just pasta and cheese.”
“Not just any cheese, a blend of three, giving it its creamy texture. A hint of garlic, a touch of chipotle, and then the salty hunks of ham.” He kissed the tips of his fingers. “Perfection.”
“Mama, I’m on television.” Greta’s excited yell had Charly dashing in a panic to the living room to see.
She instantly froze as the video on screen showed the market this past weekend. People strolling. The stalls. There he was with his trees. And grinning ear to ear, as a snowman handed her a candy cane, Greta.
“What is this?” whispered Charly.
“YouTube video from the weekend. I cast it from my phone to the television.” Selene grinned at Greta. “You’re a movie star.”
“Anyone can see it?” Charly sounded faint.
“Yeah, but at three hundred views, it ain’t going viral. Not yet anyhow, but you never know. Maybe the princess will becomefamous.” Selene nudged Greta, who giggled, but Charly turned pure white.
Ares didn’t think; he acted, grabbing her by the hands and leading her outside, where she bent over and breathed.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing.” The faintest of replies.