Chapter 13 #2
Just me and his cat and the echo of a kiss I can still feel on my lips.
Black Cat, utterly oblivious to my romantic disappointment, flops onto his back with the theatrical flair of a fainting Victorian maiden. His paws paddle the air expectantly, demanding tribute.
“Charlie? You still there?”
“Yeah.” I swallow past something that feels embarrassingly close to tears and begin scratching Black Cat’s exposed belly. He melts into a puddle of feline contentment. “Sorry. Got distracted. His cat just came in.”
“His cat is there? Where is he?”
“Not here.” I try to keep the disappointment out of my voice.
“Hmm.” Claire files this information away.
“Okay, Charlie, I’m just going to say something that may or may not make sense, but here’s what I think.
You’ve let everyone else’s opinion of you mold, shape, and warp your identity for so long.
That’s not an accusation. I can’t begin to fathom the pressure you’re under, constantly.
But you don’t know who you are anymore. You don’t know what you like.
Your entire sense of self-worth is wrapped up in the comments on social media.
I know the label, and Marcus and Sage, put all this pressure on the legacy you’ll leave behind when you’re gone, but what about the life you should be living while you’re here?
It’s okay to want the simple things. Having a crush on a guy is a very normal thing. ”
“Those are my choices? Leave an everlasting legacy behind or actually enjoy the life I have now? You sound like the world’s worst fortune cookie.”
“I know.” She’s definitely grinning. I can hear it in every syllable. “But it’s true. You can’t rationalize your way to the answer, Charlie. You have to feel your way there. I know you’ve had tunnel vision since you were sixteen, but maybe it’s time you live a little, too.”
Black Cat repositions himself against my hip, his engine rumbling back to full speed.
I stroke his fur absently, considering. Is Taio worth the risk?
And what exactly am I risking? My reputation?
Obviously. My sanity? Yeah, that’s becoming more apparent.
My heart? No, oddly enough that doesn’t feel at risk. It feels safe.
Claire yawns, the sound stretching long and unashamed.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, God, I’m just exhausted. Growing a human is no joke. Not that I’m complaining,” she quickly corrects. “I mean, I’m grateful—”
“Claire. It’s okay to hate pregnancy. It doesn’t mean this baby isn’t the most important thing in the world to you.”
“I complained a lot…the first time I was pregnant. Sometimes I think I—”
“No,” I interrupt, knowing the unnecessary guilt she carries. “I love you, Claire Bear. Let’s not think like that, okay?” I smile despite everything. “How’s she doing in there?”
“Active. Opinionated. Already causing trouble.” Claire’s tone warms with obvious love. “Just like her aunt.”
“I’ll be there for the birth,” I say, suddenly fierce. “I promise. No matter what. The moment you go into labor I will drop what I’m doing—”
“Charlie, don’t be ridiculous. I know you have bigger fish to fry. The tour, the press. They barely give you time to pee—”
“Claire. I mean it. In a heartbeat.”
“Your life doesn’t work like that, sweetie. The machine doesn’t stop.”
“Then the machine can wait.” I sit up straighter, disturbing Black Cat’s comfortable position.
He shoots me a look of pure feline disgust but doesn’t relocate.
“I missed Remy’s first birthday party. I missed your bachelorette party.
I missed when Grandpa was in the hospital after his heart attack.
I’ve missed birthdays and holidays and random Tuesdays that turned out to matter, and I’m done.
I’m done letting this career steal the things that actually count. ”
The line goes quiet. When Claire speaks again, her voice is thick with something I can’t quite name.
“Charlie, what’s going on? Is this all about your dad’s letter? Spencer told me what you guys found. Have you reached out to him?”
“No,” I murmur. “It’s not about him.” The truth is it’s just about the life I could’ve had. A life that I think would have been filled with more peace and joy…all the beautiful simple things I can’t seem to make room for in my world.
“Then what’s it about?”
I sigh. “Getting my priorities straight, I guess. So, when I tell you I’ll be there when my niece is born, I mean it. I promise you.”
The silence stretches between us, heavy with eighteen years of complicated history. All the times I wasn’t there. All the ways fame changed the shape of our family. All the distance I couldn’t close no matter how much money or success I accumulated.
“Well.” Claire’s voice comes out rough, like she’s fighting her own tears. “I guess this is a good time to tell you something.”
“Tell me what?”
A pause, weighted with significance. “Justin and I have been talking about it for months. We wanted to name her something meaningful. Something that would keep her connected to you, forever.”
My heart is doing something strange. Fluttering and clenching at the same time, like it can’t decide whether to soar or break.
“We’re naming her Charlotte.” Claire’s voice cracks on the word. “Lotti for short. So there won’t be two Charlies in the family causing confusion.”
I clap my hand over my mouth to catch the sob. I have to hold my breath because if I make even a peep, I’ll unravel.
We breathe together for a moment, two sisters separated by thousands of miles but connected by something deeper than distance or time or the strange circumstances of our lives.
I think about my mother—the paper hearts, the lies, the love that was real even when the stories weren’t.
I think about what it means to have my niece named after me.
A little girl who will grow up knowing she’s wanted, cherished, chosen.
A soft knock at the ajar door shatters the moment.
I jolt upright so fast my head spins. Black Cat’s head swivels toward the sound with predatory interest.
“Hey,” comes Taio’s voice, muffled from behind the wood.
“Come in,” I command and he pushes the door wide, but doesn’t enter my room.
“Is that him?” Claire asks with zero stealth over the speakerphone.
I shush her. “What’s up, Taio?”
“There he is,” Taio says, glancing at the furry heap at the foot of my bed. “I was looking for Black Cat. He escaped during my shower and I couldn’t find him anywhere.”
I glance at the traitor currently sprawled across my duvet like a furry emperor surveying his kingdom. He blinks at me with exaggerated innocence. “You say he’s not your pet, but you worry when he’s gone.”
Taio shrugs. “He’s not native to Miami. I wouldn’t want to abandon him in a foreign land. I’ll happily kick him to the curb when I get back to New York.”
I cock my head to the side and smile. “Your denial is getting out of control.”
He whisper-laughs, awkwardly shifting his weight side to side like he doesn’t know whether to stay or go.
I decide to put him out of his misery. “Claire, thank you for telling me that. It means everything to me. Also, I want to be there when you tell Spencer the baby will be named after me and not her.”
“Why?” Claire asks.
“I have a tiara and a sash that says ‘Favorite Aunt’ that I really want to parade in her face.”
“Good grief,” Claire grumbles.
“I love you, sister.”
“Love you, too.”
The call ends. I toss the phone aside and look up again.
Taio fills the doorway like a man who was specifically designed to fill doorways.
He’s changed out of his all-black bodyguard uniform into something softer—dark sweats that sit low on his hips, a tight, dark blue T-shirt that does obscene things to his chest and shoulders.
His jet-black hair is still damp from a shower.
And he smells…good. Really good. Like he put on cologne before coming to look for a cat he almost certainly didn’t lose.
“You’re not sleeping?” he asks. “I figured you’d be exhausted.”
I sink deeper into the covers. “I am, but I’m way too wired.
It’s like this after almost every performance—good or bad, I just sit here and play everything back in my mind, over and over.
I’m powerless to stop it. When Claire’s on tour with me, we always plan for midnight junk food, movies, face masks, pedicures, anything to tucker me out. Right now I’m on my own, and failing.”
Black Cat yawns extravagantly, displaying an impressive array of teeth, and begins grooming his paw with aggressive disinterest.
I tuck my legs beneath me, suddenly hyperaware of my thin pajama shorts and tank top. “He can stay, by the way. I don’t mind.”
Taio hovers in the doorway, one hand braced against the frame, fingers drumming an uncertain rhythm. “And can I? Stay, I mean?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, are you mad at me?” The question comes out rough, scraping against something raw. “About earlier. The hallway. I wouldn’t blame you if you were.”
I weigh the possibilities in my mind. I could stretch this out—make him dangle in suspense a little longer, watch him fidget.
The petty part of me is tempted. But exhaustion has worn down my edges, and there’s something about the way he’s standing there—all vulnerable and ridiculously good-looking—that’s making it impossible to hold on to my righteous indignation.
“I’m not mad.” I pitch my voice into my best imitation of a disappointed parent—the exact tone Nate used when we broke curfew or crashed the golf cart into the pool house. “I’m just disappointed.”
The tension in his shoulders melts. A laugh escapes him, surprised and warm. “Fair enough.” He takes a step into the room, then stops, like he’s not sure he has permission to come further. “Are you hungry?”
As if on cue, my stomach releases a growl so loud and prolonged that Black Cat’s ears flatten in alarm.
I haven’t eaten since before the concert—fourteen, maybe fifteen hours ago.
The adrenaline kept me running, but now that it’s drained away, I’m suddenly aware that I’m completely, desperately, would-commit-minor-crimes-for-food ravenous.
“Starving,” I admit. “But it’s past midnight. Nothing’s going to be open. There are acai bowls in the freezer.”
“You just had the night of your life. We need carbs and cheese.”
“We?” I ask.
“Well, Claire’s not here…I guess it’s my job to tucker you out.” His stupid, teasing smile appears. I’m beginning to think he likes this game.
“Any ideas?” I ask, fluttering my eyelashes, feeling stupid, but I’m too tired to flirt in any sort of productive way.
“Actually, yeah. Stay right here. Give me about an hour. I’m going to run out for supplies.”
“Supplies for what?” I ask.
He winks at me. “It’s a surprise.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Fine, but if you show up with any more sex toys, the rule is you have to use them.”
He bursts out in laughter. “You’re always on, aren’t you? You make it hard to be a gentleman.”
My smile turns mischievous. “You think you’re a gentleman?”
“I’d like to be for you.”
Again, cryptic. The kind of gentleman that holds doors, or my legs over his shoulders?
I throw back the covers and swing my legs over the side of the bed, making a point to stretch in a way that lifts my tank top just slightly. Taio’s gaze dips for half a second—just long enough for me to notice—before he forces his eyes back to my face. I file that reaction away for later.
“All right, I’m ready to be wowed. Take your time, I’m going to take a scalding-hot shower first.”
As if on command, Black Cat rises to his feet, ready to follow me into my en suite bathroom.
“You’re not going to watch her shower, you little perv. Out, now.” Taio points sternly to the hallway, and I swear on my life Black Cat laughs at him.
Despite his hissing protests, Taio marches across the bedroom and scoops up the cat like a naughty toddler. He plants a quick kiss on my forehead, which should feel nice but it sort of feels dismissive. And let’s be honest, I’m ready to move past forehead kisses by now.
A thought strikes me as he leaves. I pad to the door on bare feet, poking my head out into the hallway. He’s already halfway down the hall, Black Cat dangling from his grip, still snarling.
“Hey, Taio?”
He pauses, glancing back over his shoulder.
“Did you actually lose Black Cat?”
The guilty twist of his expression tells me everything I need to know before he even opens his mouth. “I might have sent him in first as a sacrifice to scope out the situation. He volunteered, enthusiastically. He really likes your bed.”
“So…did you hear anything? While I was talking to my sister?”
He shakes his head, looking confused. “Nope.”
“Okay, good. See you soon, then.”
“Sounds good.” He takes a step forward, then spins back around. “Oh, and, Tweety, before I forget. That kiss earlier? It was the perfect amount of tongue.”