Chapter 5
CHARLIE
Charlie absolutely wasn’t going to think about the fact that Sam was going to write a romance novel, a smutty romance novel. Nope, he was definitely not going to think about that today.
Except… he was.
It was all he could think about.
Imagining her sitting in that cafe, innocently typing away as she wrote out some explicitly sexual scene, had him shifting in his seat.
She read romance novels in front of him all the time.
It wasn’t as if this was a brand-new fact.
It was one of her favorite things to read whenever they hung out at either of their apartments.
He’d read whatever latest mystery had just come out, and she’d be nose deep in some romance.
He remembered a few years before, when he’d picked up the book she’d been reading after she’d run to the bathroom. Mostly out of curiosity, as it wasn’t a genre he typically read, but also because of how she’d practically kicked her legs out and giggled as she read.
But, as they say, curiosity killed the cat.
He’d had to excuse himself to the bathroom immediately afterwards to hide how red his face was from what he read on the page.
The thought that she’d been sitting there next to him so innocently but was actually reading something like that, possibly getting all hot and bothered by it, so close to him…
Yeah, he’d had to cool off for a bit afterwards.
So, he knew exactly what kinds of things Sam would be writing about. It shouldn’t bother him. If it were anyone else but her writing it, he didn’t think it would affect him nearly as much.
Charlie wasn’t sure of the day he knew for certain that he was head over heels in love with his best friend.
For all he knew, it was the day that this freckle-faced redhead flashed a brace-filled smile at him on the day that they met.
But it was long enough now that he’d gotten very good about concealing that fact.
And aside from a moment or two, like the incident with the book, topics of a more sexual nature just weren’t things they really talked about. So, it wasn’t exactly as if it were something he had to be constantly on the offensive for.
Probably for the best, in Charlie’s case at least.
“Sam is off limits, you hear me?” The words echoed in Charlie’s memory—his mother’s, about a week after Sam’s parents’ funeral. “That girl has been through enough. She doesn’t need you three jackals causing her any trouble.”
If only his mother really knew what a pickle she’d put him in, maybe then she wouldn’t have enforced that stupid rule.
He couldn’t blame her; it made sense with a bunch of hormonal boys running around the house.
But still… if he hadn’t waited so long to be out from under that, maybe then things would be different…
A vibration shook his phone as it teetered precariously on the edge of his office desk.
His mother’s caller ID flashed on the screen of her incoming call, but Charlie let it ring.
He was still a bit sore after their last conversation.
He’d call her back like he always did. This time of year just made him more sensitive with his family.
The phone stopped vibrating, but not more than a few seconds later, incoming texts lit up the screen.
Hey sweetie
I know you’re probably ignoring me right now, and that’s fine.
I just want you to know I love you — Mom
Charlie rubbed his forehead. He couldn’t bring himself to respond right now.
This time of year always managed to sneak up on him, no matter how much he tried to prepare for it. They say time heals, but it still felt just as raw as it had all those years ago.
To distract himself from the uncomfortable emotions starting to rise, he turned his attention back to his computer screen. Or at least, he tried to.
The glare that had made his mind space out in the first place still glowed against the backdrop of the contrasting black coding screen behind it.
It was nearly the end of the work day, so Charlie wasn’t sure whether it was worth even fighting.
If push came to shove, he could always finish up on his laptop back at his apartment.
Once he made it to the elevator, managing to skirt the managers successfully once again, he pulled his phone out to shoot a quick text to Sam.
He was about to press send when he stopped, glancing at the old number still displayed at the top.
That’s right, she’d given him her newest phone number when they were at dinner.
He clicked to switch it to the correct one before pressing send.
It was odd that she had changed her number so many times this year.
She’d claimed it was about changing service providers, which might’ve made sense the first time she’d switched.
She was now on the third new number this year, and something about it just…
didn’t sit right with him. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly why, but something about it felt off.
Charlie just hoped that her car would get out of the shop soon, so he wouldn’t have to worry about her on that damned bus all the time.
It had been there for so long at this point, though, that he wasn’t sure she’d ever get it back.
What could possibly be wrong with it for it to stay there that long, he had no idea.
At this point, Charlie would happily just buy her another damned car if it meant she was safe.
That’s all he cared about really. As long as she was safe and happy, everything else be damned.
He tried to shake it from his mind as he slammed his car door behind him and turned the key in the ignition.
The SUV hummed to life, the vibration of the engine somehow soothing him as his hands gripped the steering wheel.
The music he’d played on the way to work that morning blasted through the speakers at full volume, which Charlie normally would have scrambled to lower, but today, he let it go.
At least this way, the loud music might drown out all the noise in his head.
The rough stubble spreading out across his chin scratched roughly against his hand as he rubbed it, trying to shake the feeling of unease sneaking in.
He was probably overreacting like he usually did.
It didn’t help that he was on edge more than he usually was because of his family, so he tried to tuck those worries about Sam away.
She was fiercely independent, always had been, but he hoped, at least, that if something was going on, she would tell him.
She was still his best friend, after all.
As he pulled into his usual spot in his apartment complex’s garage, his phone vibrated with a few more notifications. He didn’t need to look to know they were from his mother—the string of vibrating notifications nearly causing his phone to fall from where he’d perched it precariously.
His head slumped back against the headrest. He’d have to figure out what to do about the charity at some point. Despite his argument with his mom, he knew he’d eventually cave in and go.
He just really needed to think of a way to get out of the bachelor auction.
She’d said that if any of them brought a date, she wouldn’t make them participate. He wasn’t seeing anyone at the moment, so he’d have to come up with something if it meant he wouldn’t have to be paraded around like fresh meat at the butchers.
But he wasn’t going to stress out about that right now.
Instead of heading straight home, he decided that he would stop by the apartment gym. Maybe then he could work off some of the unease and frustration from the day there.