Charlie and Her Sweet Escape

Chapter 1 Charlie

CHARLIE

Dear Diary,

When I grow up, I want to marry Dylan Savage.

Love, Charlie

Bennett Forrester looked up from my six-year-old scrawl in the journal he was packing and arched a blond eyebrow. “Well, that didn’t age well.”

I lobbed a pair of balled-up socks toward his head. He didn’t look up from my journal as his hand shot up to catch the socks before they hit him. “I didn’t know I couldn’t marry my cousin back then,” I said. “Besides, you’re not supposed to read people’s journals. It’s rude.”

“But I’m learning so much about you,” he said as he flipped to the next page.

We were sitting cross-legged on my bedroom floor, packing my belongings into the huge boxes scattered around my childhood bedroom.

Even if Mom wasn’t downsizing to a one-room bungalow with potential, it was long past time for me to do this.

With a fresh PhD certificate hanging from the wall of my brand-new office and my dream job starting next week, I guess I was a real adult, and not just one in training.

Bennett’s teasing smile widened as he flipped to the next page of my very first journal—complete with a circular picture of a young, frizzy-haired me on the cover, surrounded by yellowing lace.

“‘Dear Diary, I ate a lightning bug today because the boys dared me to. I was worried I might die, but Grandma says I shine brighter than before. Love, Charlie.’” He squinted at me and pretended to shield his eyes. “You do shine pretty bright.”

I laughed as I tugged the journal from his hands, despite his protests.

Bennett was my best friend’s older brother—and one of my favorite people.

When he’d heard I might have to miss our softball game tonight because I needed to pack, he’d rushed over to help.

But knowing Bennett, he would have come to help anyway.

He was just that kind of guy, even if he loved teasing me.

“We’re going to miss the game if we get distracted.”

Mom gave me today as my deadline, and I may have procrastinated starting until … today.

He was extra fidgety, which may have had something to do with the engagement ring I’d helped him pick out for my cousin Lily last week.

“It might be worth missing the game for this.” He reached behind him at random and grabbed another journal from my closet cache.

I was an avid journal-keeper from the time I learned how to write.

My journals evolved and changed through the years, but overall, they created an embarrassing collage of my life.

“Oh, hey, this one mentions my sister! Am I in here too?”

He was holding the journal I wrote in when I was eighteen years old—the year I was obsessed with boys and finding love …

and all three of the Forrester brothers.

They’d moved to town that year, and after a fateful incident involving a backhoe, ten gallons of nacho cheese, and a very exasperated sheriff (who happened to be my uncle), I became instant best friends with the boys’ younger sister, Rosie.

They were parentless but had the kind of close-knit relationship I’d only seen siblings have in movies.

It didn’t take long for me to fall head over heels in love.

I’d dedicated entire pages to describing the Forrester brothers’ full, kissable bottom lips or the different shades of brown in their hair. I’d imagined what it might be like married to each brother, but Bennett was always my favorite. I’d even named our kids. And our three dogs.

He flipped through the pages, but I yanked that one from him even harder. Turns out you were never too old to be embarrassed about teenage crush. “Ben! Seriously.”

“I saw my name!” His eyes were alight with curiosity and excitement.

My cheeks went hot. “You used to take me and Rosie fishing with you. I probably wrote about it.” Oh, I definitely wrote about it.

Over and over and over again. I was fixated on the way the sun would shine on Bennett’s finger-runnable hair, and how he’d filled out over the course of just four months of taking his fishing trawler out every day.

Then there was the hot day he’d taken off his shirt while doing yard work, and since I was still in my doodling phase, I’d decided a drawing would do better justice to his chest and stomach than any amount of worded description.

I’d spent a long time shading his abs. My art teacher would have been so proud of my effort.

If Bennett ever saw it, I’d have to move, change my name, and cut off all ties with Rosie.

Maybe even cut my hair to be unrecognizable—and Greg hated short hair.

“You wrote about going fishing with me and Rosie?” He pushed some longish strands of hair from his forehead, giving me a view of his green eyes.

“I wrote about literally everything.” No feeling had been too small to be analyzed back then.

Now? My journals resembled a daily planner.

Feelings… well, they were hard and complicated and caused resentment, which led to awkward conversations.

It was much easier to pack those pesky little feelings away and keep things peaceful.

I placed the journal into the box and put a blanket over it for extra security.

But when I turned back around, Bennett had a mischievous glint in his eye.

He was holding the second journal from the year I was eighteen, which could be subtitled “The Year of the Forrester Obsession.” Pick a page, and it would have one of their names on it. And more drawings.

I tensed, ready to spring toward him if he even so much as flicked a finger toward the sticker-collaged cover. “I swear, if you open that journal, Bennett Forrester, I’m going to tell my uncle you were the one who put a dent in his cruiser door.”

His eyes widened. “Whoa, do our secrets mean nothing to you, Chuck?”

“Oh, they mean plenty. Plenty of leverage.”

“I am uncomfortable with the amount of leverage you could potentially have.” He went to hand me the journal but then tugged it up and out of my reach again.

I huffed.

“But I also have leverage on you,” he mused.

“Bennett,” I said. “Please.”

Something in my tone must have alerted him to my desperation, because he held the journal toward me immediately. “Okay. I’ll step away from the journal.”

“Thank you.” I got up on my knees to snag it from him. He didn’t give me any resistance as I took it, and I released a breath of relief.

Marked safe from Bennett discovering my sketches of his torso.

My relief caught in my throat, though, when Gretel, the medically fragile Jack Russell terrier I was fostering, sauntered into my bedroom with a mouse in her mouth.

“Gretel!” I scrambled back and tripped over the box, upending everything inside.

Gretel dropped the mouse and started to bark wildly.

The mouse scurried sluggishly toward me, and I screamed. I loved animals. Most animals. But mice and I had a Godfather-esque past, and one day, our vendetta would end with either me or them standing last. The mouse recovered some of its wits and was gaining on me.

Bennett grabbed the mouse in one quick movement just before it attacked. “Got you.” It flung around in his grip, still trying to get at me. “This is a feisty one.”

Gretel peed on my floor, her little body trembling with fear. She’d probably been so proud to show me her catch, and my reaction had freaked her out. “I’m sorry, Gret!” I collapsed onto my bed and picked her up.

Bennett strode to the open window and flung the mouse out into the yard. I shuddered, hoping it would run far, far away. It was a good thing my mom was moving, because the mouse had claimed its territory.

“You okay?” he asked as he took me in from head to toe.

“Yeah.” I let out a breathy, embarrassed laugh. “I way overreacted.” Not. But how could you explain a weird fear to someone who wasn’t afraid of anything?

“I once had someone jump off the trawler when they saw a rat.” He shook his head.

“It was a nightmare. Screaming is nothing compared to that.” The way he said it, like it was no big deal, made me almost believe that it was no big deal.

Bennett had a way of doing that—making you feel like everything was going to be okay.

“I’m going to wash my hands. And grab a towel. ”

We both looked toward the dark, wet spot on the carpet. And then Bennett’s gaze drifted to the right.

Where my Year of the Forrester Obsession journal was laid open.

To a painstakingly shaded and detailed drawing of Bennett’s chest, stomach, and hip bones above a pair of low-slung jeans.

Helpfully labeled in huge block letters: BENNETT FORRESTER’S TOUCHABLE TORSO.

Dang it, eighteen-year-old Charlie.

I was frozen.

He was frozen.

But really, I was anything but frozen. I was on fire. Burning up from the inside out. My entire body had to be purple with mortification. I cleared my throat, trying to think of something to say, but all that came out was a strangled sound. Dang mice strike again.

I was really going to miss this life, since I now had to build a new one for myself far, far away from Bennett Forrester.

He smirked, the surprise mostly gone from his expression. “It is very touchable.” To demonstrate, he ran a hand down one of his pecs.

I flopped backward, grabbed a pillow, and pulled it over my face. “I’m actually dead right now, so it’s impossible to have this conversation …”

The corner of the pillow lifted, allowing a bit of sunlight behind my closed eyelids. I could feel the warmth of him close to me, watching me, but I refused to open my eyes and look at him.

“The drawing is a masterpiece. Truly a work of art. Can I have it?”

I sat up with a gasp, the pillow tumbling to my lap into Gretel. “No!”

I didn’t trust the twinkle in his eye one bit. “It’s hot in here. Maybe I should …” He went to lift the bottom of his shirt, and I saw a sliver of what was still a toned, breath-stealing stomach.

“Don’t you even think about it.”

He laughed and let his shirt drop. Bennett Forrester had always been a tease, and I usually loved when he teased me. It made me feel like I was almost a part of the family. But this was excruciating.

“I had no idea little Charlie had a crush on me,” he mused as he continued to stare down at the picture. “First your cousin, then me. These journals are priceless.”

“I was young.”

“You still are,” he said with a wink.

Why did it have to open to that page? Though, if I recall correctly, there were several drawings, so the odds weren’t that bad.

Oh, to be a hormonal teenager again. It was nice not having to worry about getting all riled up and starry-eyed at the sight of a boy’s chest anymore.

He picked up my journal, and I held my breath, hoping he wouldn’t flip through the pages. To my relief, he closed it, set it gently on the pile of blankets in the box like it was something fragile, and tapped the cover like it was a sleeping baby’s back. Then he swaggered insufferably from my room.

I brought Gretel up to my face. “You’re not in trouble, but do you see how one little action can cause a chain of events you have no control over?”

She licked my nose. I tried not to think about what else her tongue had recently been on.

“Should I change my name to Gretel?” I mused. “It has a nice ring. I could go on that show, In the Wild, and be off the grid.” I snuggled her to my chest and ran my fingers over her tiny ears until her trembling stopped.

Bennett came back into the room with a wet towel and some carpet spray, more subdued than he’d been just moments ago. He knelt down and started scrubbing at the fresh puddle.

“I can do that, Ben.” I set Gretel on my bed and reached for the towel.

“I’ve got it.”

Had my drawing upset him? Maybe he felt uncomfortable now. Panic welled in my stomach as I tried to read his emotions. Greg always liked when I started with an apology—it was usually enough to keep him from getting angry at me.

Before I could apologize, Bennett continued. “Tonight is the night, Charlie. I’m going to do it.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Propose?”

He nodded nervously.

I squealed and gave him a hug that nearly knocked him down. “We’re going to be cousins!”

He chuckled. “Yep, but remember, that means you can’t marry me.”

“Oh my gosh.” I covered my face and moaned. “Let’s never tell Dylan about this, okay?”

“Your secret is safe with me.” His excited grin nearly sparkled.

I wish I’d taken a picture or appreciated his smile more. I didn’t realize his smile would disappear, and I wouldn’t see it again.

Lily came home that night, sobbing, and told me she’d said no to his proposal. And Bennett grew his hair long and his wild beard hid his face. He spent almost all his time on the ocean and pushed away everyone but his siblings.

And me? Well, I fell in love with my own handsome prince who asked me to marry him, and we were going to live happily ever after.