Chapter Three
Charlie
There was something dead underneath my tongue. Gross, but there was no other explanation for the fuzzy, sour taste in my mouth. Also, I was pretty sure someone had beaten the hell out of me before I went to sleep.
I cracked one eye to see shiny navy blue fabric and a scarred wooden floor. Those weren't my Egyptian cotton sheets. And this was not my bedroom.
I went to sit up, and the throbbing in my head convinced me to stay where I was.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a distinctive crystal highball glass filled with water. The day before rushed back into my sluggish, hung-over brain.
Aiden.
Lawnmower hottie, a.k.a. Lucas Jackson.
And a very expensive bottle of whiskey.
Oh, my God, Aiden’s going to kill me.
I remembered I didn't care if Aiden was angry and I wanted to weep. Always, when something went wrong, I turned to Aiden. I'd never, ever, imagined my big brother would be the one to stab me in the back.
I wished he had another absurdly expensive bottle of whiskey I could steal and waste, not that stealing his whiskey was going to fix anything. And if the pounding in my head was any indication, alcohol was not the way I wanted to solve my problems.
Carefully propping myself up on one elbow, I reached for the glass of water and sipped. It was room temperature and smelled faintly of whiskey, but it was delicious.
I drained every drop before flopping back down and staring at the ceiling. I'd need to replace the drywall up there, I noted absently, taking in the water stains from pipes that had leaked decades ago.
The offending pipes were gone. The second floor was as close as you could get to a blank canvas in a house this age. Everything looked like a mess, but when I was done it would be a home. My home now that I'd moved out of Winters House.
I needed more water and I needed food. Fortunately, while my head was filled with jackhammers, my stomach felt okay—empty, ravenous, but I wasn't going to get sick.
I needed a shower, a change of clothes, and food. I could handle the shower and the clean clothes, but I'd have to leave to get food.
In fact, if I really planned to live here, I was going to have to go on a little shopping trip. I wouldn't go crazy. Now that I was unemployed and had a money pit of a house to make livable, I couldn't go throwing money around left and right.
Not that I did that anyway. But I needed some basics, like a mini-fridge and something to sleep on. My Girl Scout sleeping bag was not going to cut it long-term. Shower first.
I dragged myself to my feet and stumbled into the tiny bathroom next to the room I was sleeping in.
I thought the room might have originally been a maid's quarters, based on its proximity to the kitchen and the garage, but I was grateful it not only had a shower, but the plumbing had been an easy fix.
Eventually, I'd gut and redo this bathroom, but for now, I was grateful for hot water and a working toilet.
I showered quickly, my stomach urging me to fill it. I'd forgotten linens, so I had to use my dirty t-shirt as a makeshift towel. Skin still damp, I pulled on a fresh pair of jeans and a fitted T-shirt.
Out of habit, I went to the mirror to pin up my hair. I was halfway through twisting the long, wet mass into a bun when I froze.
Why was I doing this? I wasn't going to work. I didn't need professional hair. I didn't need professional anything. The only benefit of being unemployed was that I didn't have to do what was appropriate.
I could do whatever I wanted. After all, it wasn't like I could ruin my future chances for gainful employment. Not after Aiden had put out the word that no one should hire me.
I ignored the sting in my heart and reached for the phone in my back pocket. I was tired of perfect Charlotte and I was tired of perfect Charlotte's perfect hair. Before I could think better of it, I dialed the salon where I normally got my hair cut.
Fate must've been on my side because my stylist had a last-minute cancellation. She could take me in an hour and a half, plenty of time for me to get coffee and breakfast before I took one more step in ditching Charlotte for Charlie.
Might as well. I didn't have anything left to lose.
I could've walked to the small café for breakfast, but I didn't want to run late, and to be honest, I was feeling a little shy about running into Lucas.
I bundled my hair into a messy bun and slapped on the bare minimum of makeup. It wasn't so much that I was worried about how I looked as the memory of launching myself at him.
Had I seriously kissed a total stranger? I'd had a little bit of whiskey, but really?
Okay, he was lawnmower hottie. I'd been drooling over him for a while, but kissing random men on a whim was so not me. It wasn't Charlotte and it wasn't Charlie.
It was crazy.
I couldn't avoid him for long. For one thing, he lived next door. For another, I was pretty sure I wanted to kiss him again.
After a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, and a fluffy, steaming biscuit smothered in honey, plus a very large, very strong coffee, I was feeling mostly human again.
Aiden's ridiculously expensive whiskey had been beyond delicious, but I wouldn't be drinking again anytime soon. Even if I had another bottle of Macallan Select Reserve.
I didn't need alcohol, I needed a coffeemaker. A mini-fridge. Towels. And a whole bunch of other stuff. Keeping an eye on the time, I pulled out my phone and started making a list.
Twenty minutes before my hair appointment, I was in the car and my hair was on its way to its new destiny.
My stomach was in my throat as I watched Tracy snip away what felt like yards of hair. We decided on an edgy, layered bob only a few inches longer than my chin.
With my hair's natural wave, I could let it air dry for a messy, unstructured look or I could use a flat iron for something sleeker and more grown-up. It sounded perfect, exactly what I wanted.
I loved it when I saw the picture in the book. I'll admit I felt a little queasy once her scissors started clicking away and I watched my hair falling to the floor.
It'll grow, I reminded myself. If I don't like it, it'll grow.
When Tracy was done, she gave the new style a quick hit with the blow dryer, twisting and messing it up with her fingertips to show me what it would look like when it air dried. She spun me around for the final reveal of my new look and I barely recognized myself.
My eyes were huge in my face, and the auburn of my hair seemed brighter, the shade more red than brown now that there was less of it and it wasn't tightly wound into a chignon.
It floated around my face in shiny waves, making me look younger. Carefree. Everything I hadn't felt in years.
I let out the breath I'd been holding, feeling something in my chest unwind and relax. I looked at the piles of dark hair on the floor and thought, good riddance. Charlie stared back at me in the mirror, imperfect and a little reckless, but far more willing to have fun than Charlotte had ever been.
I went just a tiny bit crazy after that.
Just a tiny bit. Like I said, I needed to watch my budget if I was going to pull this off.
No way in hell was I asking Aiden or my family for a penny.
He probably thought he could fire me and just take care of me until I figured myself out.
He probably thought that was sweet and protective.
And if I had run into a hard time on my own, it would have been, and I would've been grateful. But firing me from a job I'd worked my ass off for was bad enough. I didn't need Aiden to take care of me. I'd worked hard and saved money for years. I could take care of myself.
But I did need some basic necessities. And, unfortunately for my budget, my salon was across the street from a shopping center filled with big box stores. I could get everything I needed there, from the supplies to paint stripper, to a coffeemaker, to something to sleep on.
I was pretty responsible when it came to the mini-fridge and a set of sheets and towels. Everything I got was either the least expensive model or was on sale.
Ditto for the paint stripping supplies. From what I looked up on the Internet, it seemed like that job had more to do with elbow grease than expensive equipment anyway. But I did go a little overboard on the coffeemaker and the futon.
I tried to get the least expensive coffeemaker. I really did. The one I ended up with was not the top-of-the-line. It was somewhere in the middle and about twice what I'd planned on spending. But coffee was an essential ingredient to a happy Charlie. I figured that was an investment in my future.
The futon?
Okay, here's the thing. I was going to buy an air mattress. I was.
I had it in the shopping cart. And then I thought about Lucas and that kiss and how much I'd wanted him to roll me over onto my back, strip my clothes off, and fuck me.
A very un-Charlotte-like thought. If I were being honest with myself, and I was trying to be, I had definite thoughts about finding myself naked with Lucas Jackson, at some point in the future.
I didn't want a relationship.
I was not looking for a boyfriend.
The last thing I needed was to get mixed up with some guy. Sex was another story. I didn't want to try to remember the last time I'd had sex.
Counting back that far would just be depressing. And I definitely couldn't remember the last time anyone had kissed me the way Lucas had.
Charlotte would never have an affair. But maybe Charlie would.
Who knew if Lucas was even interested? Once I got the thought of an affair with Lucas stuck in my head, I couldn't make myself buy that air bed.
I couldn't have sex with Lucas Jackson on an air bed. For one thing, he was huge—six and a half feet tall and packed with muscle. He'd probably roll over and the thing would explode.
I wasn't buying a real bed. That would be an irresponsible waste of money. Eventually, that room was going to be my office so it didn't need a bed.
But a futon . . . a futon was perfect for an office, especially one with a full bath right next door.
It could be an extra guest room, I reasoned, ignoring the fact that there were plenty of bedrooms on the second floor of the house and any family guests would just stay with Aiden, at Winters House.
Never mind that. A futon was practical.
That was my story and I was sticking with it, especially since there happened to be a futon store on the other side of the shopping center and for an extra fee, they did same-day delivery.
Fate had wanted me to cut my hair, and now it seemed that fate wanted me to buy a futon.
So I did.
See? Just a little bit crazy.