Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
“Your parents named you Charlie Horse?” The most beautiful man in the world asks me this in a surprised, yet incredibly amused tone. Dick.
I can’t.
Like… come on, I’ve heard this joke a million times in my life. Like four million.
If we want to be technical it’s Charlie Lyn Horseman.
That’s my name.
My grandma was Lyn, so I’m Lyn. Horseman is just our last name. Well, my dad’s last name...
Stop it.
My parents named me Charlie Horse.
The entire party, Stetson and Jayson included are back on Devon’s yacht for dinner. Devon and Grace insisted they join us. They promised they would after a shower and change. Apparently, it’s easy because all the mega yachts are docked in the same fjord. Who knew?
“It’s kismet!” Grace exclaimed upon hearing this piece of information.
“I can’t with you,” I shook my head in disbelief. “Can’t you try and be less embarrassing?”
“No,” she returned and pointed at me, like she was figuring me out. “We’re in a code red kind of situation. Like we need a Christmas miracle kind of red situation.”
Huh. Christmas miracle?
“That’s a bit sad, but I thank you for your honest observation and assessment,” I let out a breath.
“I’m a realist.” Was her response.
Who knew thirty-three was pushing it? But apparently, it is, and apparently that’s me. Perfect. I’m the code red situation that needs to be remedied. And poor Stetson’s the target. And poor me is about to be let down. Again.
“So now you know where I’m coming from—you do you and I’ll do me,” she told me with a smile before she gave my cheek a friendly pat.
Alright. I’ll do me.
I decide to dress up for dinner.
Well, I decide to dress up more than usual, which usually consists of some sort of athleisure—or at least as much as I can given the circumstance—and more naked than I’d prefer but I’m trying to prove a point—that I’m not hopeless.
And I can lean into my femineity any time I want.
Which just so happens to be this very moment.
All I have is a fitted off the shoulder cashmere black top, so I pair it with black jeans that fight tight in a damn I’m feeling myself sort of way and not in a get me out of these things way.
I count it as a complete win. I glance at myself in the mirror and do a small turn.
I look good. I leave my hair down straight past my shoulders, down my waist, and put on light make-up.
To finish everything off, I add a pair of the ship slippers with the yacht’s name on them—Elysian.
This is real. Happening in fact.
I’m on a yacht in an arctic fjord close to the North Pole named, Elysian. And each guest receives their own slippers, hat and sweatshirt with the yacht’s name and crest.
Facts on God.
Not how I imagined my holidays going.
“Charlie Horse?” Stetson says again pulling me back to the slightly embarrassing moment at hand.
“They were hippies,” I say nonchalantly—they weren’t. Nor were they immigrants with no real strong sense of the language.
They were just a good old multi-generational American family who thought it was humorous. At least I’ll be remembered for something. Yay. I don’t know why I was the only one to be recipient of such a fun name.
My younger brother’s, Ethan. Nice, normal, makes sense even.
I’ll never come to terms with it. Lots of therapy taught me that.
And I’ll also never come to terms with how their marriage ruined me in so many ways for so long.
I made bad decisions in the love department and a lot of what and why I did what I did was from the fucked up, insane, cold, horrible example of love I saw.
Until it exploded before my eyes into just hate.
Pure hate. I know my parent’s example is not wholly to blame… but maybe a little bit more than half.
You’re better now, Charlie… I tell myself. Except for ass nut’s horrible intrusion, you were doing good. But that’s a whole other story.
A bottle of wine. A tub of chocolate ice-cream… and I’ll spill the secrets. I’ll tell you everything. Start to finish. To the muddied in between. All of it. In succinct detail. There are lots of things to look forward to!
“Hippies?” Stetson’s eyes narrow and he looks perplexed. “That’s not—”
“What?” I interrupt him. “What you’d expect?”
He puts down his drink on the table outside that we’re standing next to on the bridge deck.
There are outdoor heaters so it’s nice and cozy, the view around us…
so mystical and magical with its cold greys and dark sky with shimmering stars and mystic blue ice water, right to the snow tipped mountains—it’s the perfect postcard.
“Truth.” He says quietly as he folds those arms and stares down at me from that imposing height.
He looks so handsome it’s shocking. He’s wearing a black button-down shirt with dark jeans that are just… perfect on him. His hair is almost windswept off his face like a movie star and his beard looks even sharper, cleaner… just yum.
“Come on,” I laughingly try to blow it off. I don’t disagree with him… but this is an entirely different scenario, and he needs to let me own it.
His bright gaze holds mine before looking over my shoulder at the help who stand next to the bar awaiting our every need. Whatever look he gives causes them to magically leave and within seconds we’re all alone.
Me and Stetson.
Alone.
To be honest, I don’t really remember how we ended up here in the first place. Him and Jayson arrived and suddenly we were the only ones up here, and the rest of the group stayed inside.
I’m immensely grateful for the cabernet working its magic and making the moment less anxiety ridden.
I still have the side of major sexual attraction that won’t stop with or without wine, but at least I’m less flustered.
I feel warm and turned on and something else that I don’t quite know.
The only way I can describe it is this—a feeling that comes over me when he searches my face like he’s reading my story.
Like he’s figured me out or knows me in a way I don’t even know myself.
That’s it.
That’s the feeling I get and I don’t know how.
I don’t know why— besides the obvious of he’s so hot you’ve never seen anything like it before in your life…
basic answer, but there’s something else.
That feeling I’ve had with one or two other people in my life, Grace being one—that feeling like you know them.
Or have known them before.
And you know there’s something more between you because the pull is too magnetic.
Obviously with Grace it’s a different feeling—more like family but even deeper than that.
With Stetson it felt like an electrical current hit me when our eyes met across that tundra.
Even before I saw his face, I was drawn to him.
I’m smart enough to know that. To acknowledge it. And I’ll see where it goes, but I’m not holding my breath about it. I’m on a vacation in the arctic, where is this really going? I’ve worn the cloak of disappointment for most of my life, I know what happens the moment I get excited.
It all goes to shit.
And I’m not being a Debbie Downer. I have honest to God receipts to prove it.
“Charlie?” Stetson says my name like it’s something fine.
I snap out of it. “Yes?”
“I think this is the perfect time to say, there’s a clause I’m going to need you to sign.” His voice lowers. “If you are in fact…interested.”
“Interested?” I repeat, lightheaded.
“In me.” He finishes with a smirk. “And everything this world,” he does a little flick of his hand at the view around us. “Has to offer.”