Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
DAVE
The Wild Shrimp hums with laughter, clinking glasses, and the low thrum of music from the jukebox in the corner. The air smells of salt, fried hush puppies, and delectable seafood, but all I yearn for is her.
She’s sitting right beside me, yet it’s not the Char I met months ago. This isn’t the woman who laughed so hard she snorted into her champagne glass the night of the wedding. The one who danced all night under the stars, her green eyes alive with mischief. Tonight, she’s composed. Cool. Unaffected.
And a million miles away.
She’s every bit as beautiful as I remember, even if the details have changed.
Her long, gorgeous red hair has now changed to a striking dark brown.
It’s still stunning, with cool purple highlights framing her face.
But her flawless skin and deep green eyes are exactly as I remembered.
Well, except that effervescence seems to have been extinguished now.
Char seems off. Is she bothered by my arrival here?
There’s no mistaking how her radiant smile slid from her face like ice cream dripping from a cone once her eyes connected with mine.
Her usual wide, gregarious, full of life expression has been replaced by this lackluster imposter. My heart squeezes in my chest.
Is this all because of me?
I can’t stop watching her. The way her hands fold neatly in her lap, the careful smile she offers when Ellie teases her about something. She’s wearing a pale blue blouse that makes her skin glow in the low light, but there’s a distance in her eyes that feels like a punch to the gut.
What happened to the woman who’d looked at me like I was something worth unraveling?
She’s not frowning. Yet the excited expression she held earlier has deflated like a bad soufflé. Despite the presence of her best friend, she seems detached. Every time she laughs, it feels forced. The kind you give to clients, not friends. And when our eyes meet, she looks away too fast.
Had there been someone else all along? The thought cuts sharper than I expect. I’m certain Ellie and Matt would’ve said something. Maybe they didn’t know? I guess I need to accept this was simply one night of fun for her, nothing more.
My fingers tighten around my glass. I push back from the booth before I can second-guess it. “Dance with me?” I ask softly.
Her head lifts, startled. There’s no one else dancing. Am I making a fool of myself?
For a moment, she hesitates, her eyes searching mine like she’s trying to find a reason to say no. Then, with a small sigh, she slides out of her chair.
The second she’s close, my world narrows. I rest my hand on the small of her back, and it’s like a live wire coursing beneath my skin. Her intoxicating scent hits me square in the chest, pulling me straight back to that night. The warmth of her breath against my neck is causing my pulse to race.
But unlike the way we clung to each other during our last dance of the wedding, now, she’s stiff in my arms. Too careful. Much too controlled. We move in slow rhythm, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder, as if reminding me to keep my distance.
My throat suddenly feels tight. “Did I do something?” I stammer quietly, unable to hold back any longer.
Her lashes flicker. “No. Why?”
“You’re just…” I search her face, fighting the words. “Different.”
Her gaze drops to my chest. “I’m just tired.”
I don’t believe her. I want to, but the lie sits there between us, bitter and cold.
“I’ve had a lot happening in my life over the last few months. Much of it stressful. I guess it’s taken more of a toll than I thought.” She glances up, a small frown marring her beautiful face.
While I’m grateful she’s shared more of her life with me, I’m suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to move heaven and earth to chase her demons away. Whatever they may be.
A lock of her hair slips free from behind her ear, brushing her cheek. Without thinking, I reach up, my fingers grazing her skin as I tuck it back. Her breath hitches, just slightly, and for one suspended heartbeat, it feels like the world tilts.
That spark is still there. Isn’t it?
Her earrings catch the light. They’re small emerald teardrops, delicate and shimmering. Moving my fingertip to the shiny bauble, I lift it gently.
“Beautiful,” I murmur.
She blinks, startled by the comment. “Thank—” Again, she lets a small gasp escape as our eyes connect. It’s clear I’m not looking at the jewelry. I only have eyes for her. The slope of her neck, the sadness swimming just behind her calm facade.
I can’t figure her out. She’s right here, in my arms, and yet she feels untouchable.
None of this is Char’s fault. She made it clear she wasn’t interested in more than one night.
It’s not fair to put her on the defensive.
Just because the one time you’ve felt something for someone, they aren’t interested.
It’s not right to make her feel bad. My spine stiffens at this unwelcome reality.
What am I even doing here?
I had one night with this glorious creature. Grow up. It’s the exact way I’ve treated women. Keeping them at arm’s length. What did I think would happen if I came down here? Chasing after a woman that clearly wants nothing to do with me.
When the song ends, she doesn’t immediately let go. For a heartbeat too long, we just stand there, her breath shallow, my pulse racing.
Then Char whispers, “You shouldn’t have come here.”
My heart plummets. Removing my hand from her lower back, I reach up to rub the tender hollow within my chest. Yet, before I can ask what she means, she steps away, her hand slipping from mine.
And just like that, she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd, leaving me standing there, surrounded by the echoes of music and the ache of something I don’t understand.