Chapter 6
Chapter Six
CHARLI
Saturday afternoon, and it feels as though the sky is about to open up and pour down on me. It’s grey and depressing; it matches my mood perfectly.
Arriving at the gym, my motivation for leg day sky rockets. The gym is a place where I can shut the world out and do something that feels good in the daylight.
I put my bag in a locker and go to the mats to stretch. I should’ve expected it, but of course, I didn't. He’s here, and his muscles are glistening. I wipe my mouth just to make sure I’m not drooling over Rafe.
He’s standing by the bench, hands reaching up to readjust his headphones, head tilted down like he’s inspecting something. He hasn’t changed much, not in the ways that matter. His curly hair still messy in that effortless way, his jaw still that perfect combination of sharp and soft, and the way his shoulders carried the weight of the world—like nothing ever really knocks him down. It makes my heart ache, like I’ve been holding my breath for the last year without even realizing it.
My pulse jumps in my throat. I freeze.
My first thought is: I look like crap.
I mean, I’ve been in sweatpants all day, barely remembered to put on makeup, and my hair is a tangled mess from running through the wind. I’m definitely not looking like the girl he gave his first kiss to. But I can’t help it. I can’t look away.
I don’t even know what to do or how to act, so I stand there for a moment too long, debating whether to turn around and pretend I didn’t see him. What if he doesn’t even care to see me?
But then he lifts his head, and his eyes meet mine. I freeze, rooted to the spot like some damn tree.
“Charli?” he says, voice low, the way it always was when he said my name. Like it was something soft, something he didn’t want to rush.
I nod, unable to say anything at first. A thousand thoughts flood my mind, but nothing makes it past the lump in my throat. My heart’s pounding like a drumbeat, and I wonder if he can hear it. He can’t, right?
“Wow, it’s… it’s been a while,” he says, almost like he’s testing the words, like he’s not sure how to say them either. His lips curl up into a small half-smile, and God, I’ve missed that smile. It’s pure perfection.
“Yeah,” I manage, my voice a little raspier than I wanted it to be. I clear my throat, suddenly aware of how stupid I must look standing there, staring at him. “A while.”
We’re both standing there awkwardly, like we’re stuck in some space neither of us knows how to navigate anymore. There’s hesitation in his eyes, like he’s not sure whether he should say something more or just leave it at that. It’s been over three years since we last talked, and so much has changed in that time.
But some things never change, right?
“So… How’ve you been?” He asks, taking a step forward, almost like he’s testing the waters between us. His voice is tentative, unsure, but his eyes—they’re warm, familiar. A little bit of the Rafe I used to know.
“Good,” I say, finally finding my footing again. I can feel the awkwardness dissipate, just a little. “You?”
“Yeah, you know… busy with classes and hockey,” he says with a shrug. “Same old.”
I nod, trying to ignore the tension building in my chest. I should be saying something more, something that doesn’t make me feel like I’m still holding on to this stupid crush. But all I can think about is how much I miss him, how much it still hurts to see him, to remember what we were. I can’t help but wonder if he feels the same way—or if he’s moved on completely. He’s the only person that can make me lose my self-control, the only person who has enough influence over me to turn me into this monster I’ve become.
He looks at me like he wants to say something else, but the words don’t come. Instead, he glances down at his feet, then back at me. “It’s weird, you know? Running into you like this.”
“Yeah.” My laugh is quiet, almost nervous. “It is.”
It’s like everything that went unsaid between us that summer is suddenly hanging in the air, thick and heavy. The last time we saw each other—the last time I saw him—I don’t think either of us expected it to be the end. We didn’t get closure. Hell, I didn’t even get to tell him how much I loved him, how much I still do.
I look down at the ground, trying to steady myself, but my thoughts are a jumbled mess. This is stupid. Why is this still affecting me?
But then I hear his voice again, softer this time, almost like a question. “Have you been okay? Your brother says you’ve been quiet with him lately.”
The air feels thicker, like time itself has stopped moving. My heart is pounding, and I wonder if he can hear it now. I glance up at him, catching that same vulnerability in his eyes that I used to see all the time. That boy who I once thought was untouchable, untamed.
And for a moment, I let myself imagine that things could be different. That maybe, we could go back to the way things were. That maybe—just maybe—we could pick up where we left off. But then reality hits, and I realize that time isn’t that kind.
“I’ve been okay,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “I get by.”
Rafe doesn’t answer right away, but I can see it in the way his gaze softens, how the edges of his mouth tremble as if he’s fighting something inside. And then, without saying another word, he takes another step closer to me, close enough that I can feel the warmth of his presence.
“I never meant to hurt you, Charli,” he says quietly. “I was just… scared. I would never want JD to hate me. He’s been my best friend for as long as I can remember.”
And there it is—the raw honesty I’ve always wanted from him. The thing that I never got when it mattered most.
The words hang between us, unspoken for so long, and I wonder if maybe there’s still a chance for us.