Chapter 13 Charlie #2
His blue eyes flickered in the dim light from the traffic signals.
“Long story short, my health insurance kicked me off, and I need meds that help.” He let go of my thigh and held up his hand.
I stared at it, trying to deduce what I was looking at.
“They keep the shakes and cravings at bay. Without them, I’d be a mess. ”
“You said you coach hockey?”
“Yeah, but it’s not full-time, so no health insurance comes with it. I’m trying to figure it out, but that call . . . it was the insurance company reminding me how fucked I am.”
How shitty was that? To be stuck in a place where you were doing the best you could but still felt like the system was working against you. It must’ve been terrifying to depend on meds just to keep things steady and have the rug pulled out like that.
One of the good things about teaching, despite the pay not coming anywhere close to what my brother, Jacob, made, was the health insurance.
It was one of those rare comforts—a safety net I could count on.
It made me realize how easy it was to take that for granted when someone like Austin had to fight tooth and nail to get the meds he needed for his sobriety.
“I’m sorry. That’s terrible.”
“It sucks, but I’ll figure it out.”
I sighed and sank into the seat. “Our whole healthcare system is fucked. I don’t get why I have a job and have access to great health insurance, but then you have a job and need care immediately and don’t.”
“It’s shitty.”
The silence settled between us as we continued driving down the highway. Eventually, we pulled into the school parking lot where my car was.
“This is you,” Austin murmured, pulling the car to a stop.
He got out and opened the door on my side.
“Like a proper gentleman.”
He shook his head and laughed. “I have competition with Southern gentlemen, so I figured I’d have to pull out all the stops.”
“Ha. No competition.” I thought of all the douchebags my mother tried and failed to set me up with in the past.
We stood there in silence before he took a deliberate step toward me. “Thank you for everything, Ms. Honey.”
My eyes desperately scanned his.
This most definitely was a date.
And this was the part where we were supposed to kiss. I could feel it, the tension growing between us, the urge so strong. But I wasn’t sure if he felt the same thing, or if he was ready to take this step.
“Charlie,” he murmured, but his voice was so different compared to mere moments earlier.
It was rough and low. It touched something inside me.
He prowled forward, lifting his hand to my chin and tilting my face up so I was looking right into his blue eyes.
“Charlie,” he repeated. “I’m going to kiss you.”
I nodded, the anticipation almost killing me. My toes were tingling, my hands were shaking, and I felt like a teenager waiting to be kissed for the first time.
“I need to hear you tell me it’s okay.”
“Please. Yes. Kiss me.”
The moment the words left my mouth, he closed the distance between us, crashing his lips onto mine.
His hands slipped around my back, pulling me into his chest, holding me like he’d been waiting for this.
His warmth enveloped me, and I tasted the sweetness of chocolate from earlier.
His mouth moved against mine, gentle at first, before he deepened the kiss, a slow, intoxicating intensity building between us.
Until this moment, I’d never truly been kissed like this. This kiss felt like it transcended everything else, like time itself had slowed. It was an escape, a messy, urgent, imperfect rush of emotions and sensations. It was everything a first kiss should be—raw, real, and electrifying.
He pulled away but kept his arms around my waist. “Charlie,” he breathed.
“I’ve never . . . ever been kissed like that before.”
He dropped his forehead to mine as he held me there, in the dark parking lot of my school. “Me either. You’re so warm.”
I had no idea what that meant, but I felt the same way. He was safe and I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to feel this emotional release ever again in my life.
After a while, he eventually pulled away from me. “I-I should get going.”
Come with me.
My brain logically knew I needed to go and take a moment to process what this meant, but my heart and maybe my vagina desperately wanted him to come with me.
He swallowed audibly.
“I should too,” I murmured.
He walked me over to my car, and once I unlocked it, he opened the door for me. “Can I see you again?” he asked, his voice low as he cupped my cheek, his mouth so close to mine that I could feel his breath. He smelled like a good rainstorm, and I wanted to bottle it up.
I could only nod, my words caught somewhere in the back of my throat, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.
“Good.” His lips met mine, soft yet firm, and every nerve in my body lit up.
When he pulled back, he kept his hands on me as he guided me into the car. My legs felt shaky, and I was grateful for the support—without it, I wasn’t sure I would’ve stayed standing.
“Until next time,” I murmured, the warmth of his touch lingering on my skin as he gently shut the door.
He gave the car door a small pat, and I watched as he walked back toward his own vehicle.
But then he paused, stopping midway. He turned, catching my gaze again, and gestured for me to roll down the window.
“Charlie?” He stood with his hands in his pockets and his head cocked curiously to one side.
“Yeah?”
“You said you have health insurance, right?”