"Charles!"

"Enough, Mom. I don't have time for this. It's getting late, and I need to grab dinner." Charles ended the call and noticed Noelle gripping his hand tightly. He quirked an eyebrow and asked in a gentle voice, "What's up?"

Noelle shook her head. "Are you and your mother not getting along?" With the way Charles had just spoken to his mother, it was obvious things were strained. Noelle felt a twinge of sadness. "Is there some kind of misunderstanding between you two?"

"No, not at all!" Charles patted Noelle's head with a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it. Didn't they say dinner's ready? Come on, let's eat!"

Charles clearly wanted to avoid the subject, and Noelle, sensing this, could only agree. "Alright, I'll get your plate ready!"

Noelle walk away. There was

been soured by that call from his mother, Clarisse. She did not know the specifics of what was going on between Charles and his mother or

own family and then back to Charles, she could not help but

she realized how intense men could be when

sun barely up, every muscle in her back screaming and her waist stiff as a board. It felt like her body had gone through a blender. And there he was,

going to be

voice a mix of anger and morning grogginess. "Tonight, you're exiled to the guest room. I'm

"Come on, up and at 'em. Breakfast is waiting." Noelle shoved him back, her hands up like a fierce little kitten. "Did you not hear me? Guest room. Tonight. I'm not messing around, Charles!" She inhaled sharply, rubbing the ache in her waist.

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