mind wanders off to Hanky-Panky Town. “What?”
“A Lord of the Rings marathon. It’s high time I introduce you to my favorite series ever.”
My smile wanes a little as a smidgen of disappointment comes through, but I hide it from Charlie. It’s not like we haven’t had plenty of sexy times in the past twenty-four hours.
“Sounds good, babe,” I reply.
“I promise you’ll love it.”
“And if I don’t and end up falling asleep, I know you have a special way to wake me up.” I wiggle my eyebrows up and down.
Her cheeks become bright pink, and suddenly, the air between us is charged with electricity.
“Let’s head inside before you get any ideas,” she says.
I follow her out of the car, rearranging my cock in a more comfortable position. “Too late; they’re already in my head.”
When we come to the front door, we find a box waiting for us. It has Charlie’s name written on top in block letters.
“What is it?”
She lets out a squeak. “This must be from Fred.”
I open the door and let Charlie walk in ahead with box in hand. She sets it on the kitchen counter and peels off the note attached to it.
“What’s in the box?” she reads out loud. “Oh my God. No way.” She laughs, but I don’t get it.
“What’s so funny?” I ask.
She widens her eyes. “Come on, Troy. Seven? The epic final scene where Brad Pitt loses his mind over the box?”
It finally dawns on me. “Oh shit. Don’t tell me Gwyneth Paltrow’s head is inside that.”
“No, silly. Actually, I have no idea whose head is inside.”
Charlie grabs a pair of scissors from the drawer and cuts the tape. The first thing I see when she lifts the flaps is blonde hair and fake blood. Carefully, Charlie pulls the prop from the box. She lets out a yelp and then drops the prop back in the box.
Damn. If she got spooked even knowing what it was, I can only imagine Andreas’s reaction.
“Hey, I want to see.”
She closes the box again, keeping both hands on top. “Better if you don’t.”
“Charlie, what the hell? What’s in the box?” I know I sound exactly like Brad Pitt now.
She grimaces, keeping her hands in place. “Before I let you see it, you have to understand that Fred has a dark sense of humor, and I’m sure he didn’t mean to upset you.”
I bristle. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Charlie lets out a heavy sigh. “The head in the box is a fake of your sister.”
“What?” I shout, making Charlie wince. “Let me see this.”
I pry the package from her and reopen it. Bile pools in my mouth when I remove Jane’s fake severed head from the box. It’s so lifelike that it feels like I’m holding her actual head.
“This is so fucking wrong,” I say. “Why would he pick Jane as his model? Is he a fucking psycho?”
“Oh my God, no. I’m pretty sure it’s because he also noticed Andreas’s interest in your sister. Like I said, twisted sense of humor.”
“We can’t use this.” I put the head back, wishing now that I had listened to Charlie and not peeked.
“Are you sure? It would be epic.”
“Imagine if it were Ben’s head.”
Charlie’s eyebrows furrow, and her eyes become hard, but the moment only lasts a few seconds before she relaxes once more. “Disturbing, but Ben would probably love it.”
Now that the shock has passed, I can see the appeal of using the prop. “I guess we could use it if Jane agrees.”
“Yeah, and we should totally invite her to come to the party.”
“No, absolutely not,” I object vehemently. My visceral reaction to the idea surprises even me. I’m protective of Jane, but not to this level. Maybe it’s the certainty that Andreas has a thing for her that triggered it.
“Don’t get mad at me for saying it, but Jane will start dating soon—guys you don’t even know. How terrible would it be if she dated Andreas, your best friend?”
“It’s because Andy is my best friend that I know he’s the last guy on earth I want dating my sister. He’s a player, Charlie. The worst kind.”
She holds up her hands. “Okay, okay. I’m not going to broach the subject again. What about Fred? Would you allow her to date him?” She quirks an eyebrow.
“He just made a fake severed head of her likeness. The answer is a million times no. She’s too young to be dating anyone.”
Putting her hands on her hips, Charlie stares at me hard. “Troy Wolfgang Alexander,