Charlie shrugged and pushed his bottom lip out, as though he had to consider whether it was working or not (it was).
He held Piper’s gaze and returned her smirk. “A loyalty scheme?†He had another sip of his margarita. “You clearly haven’t been paying attention,†he told her -- though they both knew she had, because how else would she have known to ask about his marriage? (And wasn’t that why they were here?)
But had he missed her? He grinned--collecting knickers--and gave her another obvious once-over. “Ask me again in the morning,†he smirked. “Hope you’re wearing a nice pair,†he teased, finishing the rest of his drink in a long gulp. He set the glass down, empty, and the grin on his lips grew wider as he ran his fingers up and down the stem. “So this is what you really wanted--needed-- to speak to me about? You were dying for a fuck?†He laughed lightly and relaxed back in his seat, keeping his eyes on the petite brunette. He wouldn’t need to be drunk to fall into bed with her at least.
“No, nobody’s home,†he said, “but if I recall you were inviting me to yours. So you can kick me out of bed in the morning and send me on my way,†he reminded her.
Charlie drummed his fingertips on the table, waiting for Piper to finish her (sixth? seventh?) margarita. “But you’re in no state to apparate us,†he told her, still with an air of light-heartedness. “Meet me out the front when you’re paid up—†the drinks were on her, “—can’t be seen leaving together or we really will be the Prophet’s next scandal,†he smirked, getting to his feet.
[ out ]
