Chapter 13
CHARLIE
Thursday ushered in an odd kind of peace that Charlie found himself in desperate need of. Not just because it was so tantalizingly close to the weekend but because he knew it would help take his mind off of things.
Work already hadn’t been great, with an unexpected outage that had caused pandemonium the entire day. But that hadn’t been the worst of it. It was the phone call he’d gotten on the way home from the office that sealed his foul mood.
The last thing he’d needed was an extra dose of guilt heaped onto his plate.
Charlie got along with his brothers, for the most part, but some days were more of a challenge than others.
Despite the slight age gap between the three of them, they had gotten along well growing up.
Other than the usual brotherly antics that came along with having two rough-and-tough older brothers, things had been relatively normal.
Their dynamic had changed thirteen years ago, and it hadn’t really been the same since.
Peter tried, as he and Charlie spoke at least once a week on the phone to check in with each other, and Tyler had his moments, but it all still felt a bit strained.
Tyler had called as Charlie was packing up to leave the office, complaining about the unfair workload of helping out with the charity. It wasn’t Charlie’s fault that Tyler had bitten off more than he could chew, but Tyler had a knack for really pushing buttons when it came to this time of year.
They’d argued back and forth for a while until Charlie eventually had to hang up on him. He’d call him back later when he cooled off a bit.
He supposed everyone in his family had different ways of coping.
It was par for the course. His parents had started a whole charity to make something so awful into something positive, Peter decided to channel his grief into working at a non-profit that supported some of the same causes his parents’ charity did, and Tyler pretended like nothing was different the entire rest of the year but would get super agitated with literally everyone the month of.
Charlie, on the other hand, preferred if everyone didn’t make a whole spectacle of it every single year—having these huge elaborate celebrations around the anniversary were just about the last thing he wanted to have to deal with.
It had been thirteen years, and the only positive thing he had gotten over those years was that the four of them had stopped looking at him and seeing her.
The pained looks in their eyes diminished with time to the point that it felt like only recently that they started to see Charlie as a whole individual again.
And that certainly didn’t ebb the guilt that consumed him every year.
So, when Sam had messaged him to see if he wanted to catch a movie, a romantic comedy that had only just come out, he’d been more than happy to accept the invitation. If anything, to take his mind off reality for a bit and spend time with the one person who seemed to understand him.
Sam and Erica hadn’t been close like she was with Charlie, as Erica ran with a different crowd, but she had known her well enough. She was Charlie’s sister after all.
He remembered how young he was when he and his family had gone to Sam’s parents’ funeral.
The way he’d watched Sam from where his family stood, wanting more than anything to walk over and hold her hand.
Tell her everything was going to be alright.
Comfort her and wipe away the few tears she’d allowed to slip down her cheeks.
And then how, ten years later, when the roles were reversed, Sam had done the thing he couldn’t and had stood next to him. Holding his hand quietly as they’d lowered Erica down into the ground.
It’s your fault.
He quickly dismissed the thought before it could latch on too tightly.
The familiar ring of it caused a headache to pound between his temples as he pulled into a parking spot.
He’d insisted that he picked Sam up from their apartment building to take her to the movies himself, instead of her catching the bus again from the coffee shop.
Despite her protests otherwise, and despite the throbbing in his head, he didn’t regret his decision.
He shot off a quick text to let her know he was there before leaning forward and resting his head against the steering wheel. A few deep breaths and his churning stomach would soon settle.
Locking himself away in his apartment for the rest of the day had been a tempting thought, more than tempting actually, but he’d decided against it. Despite his mood, he knew that he’d feel infinitely better spending time with Sam.
A sudden rush of heat surged through his body thinking of her—and remembering the other night.
He’d kissed her.
He had actually kissed her.
Her lips were as soft and inviting as he had always imagined, fulfilling every dream he’d ever had about them.
It had been short and sweet, literally forcing himself away from her before he’d made a complete fool of himself.
It had taken just about all of his strength at the time to do it, to turn around and walk away when he’d wanted nothing more than to shove her back against the wall and kiss her until she was delirious from it. But he had to keep a level head.
He knew that she hadn’t kissed him because she actually wanted it.
It was for her book.
And if he needed to continuously repeat that mantra to get through this, he would. He could do this. He would do this, for her.
When Sam bounced into view from the apartment complex exit, waving at him, Charlie finally felt himself relax. The sight of her never failed to brighten his mood.
She looked stunning. Her hair cascaded around her shoulders, her usual waves appearing more refined than usual. Loose curls framed her face, blending seamlessly with the natural waves that rippled like silk in the light.
He swallowed thickly at the pair of blue jeans she had on, her hips swaying with her movements that made it nearly impossible not to follow.
The pair that Charlie always had a hard time distracting himself from, especially if he was walking a few paces behind her.
It made him appreciate the coffee-colored knitted pullover she had on —an odd pick he had to admit with the warmer temperature today — hoping it was loose enough that he wouldn’t be able to get a good view of her ass.
Despite how much he might want to.
He raised a hand in greeting as she grabbed the door handle and jumped inside, the sweet smell of whatever perfume she’d put on immediately wafting in his direction. It was sweetly feminine and familiar, like walking through a field of daisies on a warm, sunny day.
“Thanks for picking me up, Charlie. I appreciate it!” she exclaimed as she pulled the seatbelt across her chest and clicked it into place.
Close up, Charlie could see the hints of brighter blonde strands bouncing effortlessly around her shoulders—usually lost in the sea of copper but highlighted perfectly in this light, like little rays of sunshine hidden in the fire.
“Of course. Had to save you from seeing the sniffer again.” Charlie laughed, affectionately reaching over to tousle the loose strands of her hair.
He was unable to help himself, causing her to playfully swat his hand away with a laugh.
When she did, he noticed a bandage wrapped around her forearm poking out from beneath the long sleeves of her sweater.
He nodded at her arm. “What happened there?”
She froze for a fraction of a second before rolling her eyes. “Oh, you know how clumsy I am! When I was curling my hair for our little movie date, I ended up dropping the curling iron by accident and burnt myself a bit. It’s fine. Don’t worry.”
His chest warmed. “You didn’t have to curl your hair for me.”
“Only for you, babe,” she teased, giving him a little wink as she did.
Damn it, he hated how hot that was—and how hot it was to hear her call him that. Even if it was what they had agreed on. He adjusted himself in his seat, distracting himself by shooting a smile at her and pulling the car out of the garage.
He cleared his throat, which suddenly felt thick. “As long as it wasn’t the sniffer getting too handsy, I guess it’s fine.”
“I haven’t taken the bus in a bit, so we’re safe there. You two will never be friends, though, huh?” Sam sighed.
Charlie chuckled. “As long as he leaves you alone, we’re best of buddies. Now, what movie are we seeing again?”
She shrugged. “It’s just some romantic comedy. I saw an ad for it earlier and thought it sounded interesting.”
His eyes glanced over at her, noticing that her smile seemed a bit forced. “Were you working out of the cafe today?”
Sam fiddled with her hair. “I was. I didn’t stay too long, though.”
“Why? You love that place.”
She shrugged again, more curtly. “I was working from home earlier this morning and decided to go over, so I just stayed long enough to drink some coffee and then headed back home. My stomach started to feel a bit sour. I think I had a little too much caffeine without a lot of food.”
“You want to stop and grab something?” Charlie offered, scanning to see what was available.
“No,” she answered quickly. “You know this place has more food than I could handle. I’ll just order something when we get there.”
The theater Sam had chosen was a bit further out of Durham than usual, closer to downtown Raleigh, but it was one of the only theaters they ever liked going to.
It was a chain, but it was a movie lover’s dream theater, with movie memorabilia crammed into every inch of the lobby and hallways leading to each screening.
If Charlie were honest, though, he just liked it because the seats were comfortable, could be reclined back, and they had dine-in food and drink options that were served seat-side.
The theater was empty, aside from the two of them, when they eventually made their way inside, which made sense given that it was a Thursday afternoon. Charlie was grateful for the quiet that could never be found there on a weekend. It made the atmosphere feel more cozy—exactly what he needed.
Sam led the way to their seats, holding her phone in front of her as she did to check the seat numbers.
Exactly as he feared would happen, his eyes trailed down the curve of her spine, past the pullover, and down to the tight jeans she’d put on.
Those damned hips of hers were at it again.
Nothing about the movement was different than how she usually walked, but it was the way these jeans managed to hug every inch of her.
He wondered if she knew what an incredibly nice ass she had.
Sam never complimented her own appearance very often, so he doubted it.
An absolute shame, if he was allowed to have an opinion on the matter, because she really did.
Perfectly curved and just enough of a handful that Charlie’s palms itched just thinking about it.
Sam whirled around in front of him, nearly stumbling over her as his eyes finally released their hold on her rear end and shot up to her face. Where she was already looking more than amused up at him.
“You okay?” she asked before pointing to the two seats next to them and lowering herself into one.
“Yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought,” he shot off quickly, wondering distantly if leering was part of their agreement.
She giggled, but something caught his attention when she turned to face the movie screen. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It was just something in her eyes that made him feel a bit uneasy.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked as the theater lights began to dim.
She blinked a few times and looked over at him. “Yeah, why?”
“I don’t know. Something seems to be on your mind.”
She shook her head, her body leaning against his as if surrendering to the gentle pull of gravity. “I’m fine. I promise.”
Her head found a comfortable perch there on his shoulder, a content exhale escaping her lips to tickle his ear.
The movie began playing on the screen, but neither of them seemed to be paying it much attention.
Their hands had found one another in the dark, on the joint arm rest of their seats, seeking the comfort that the other held in the quiet space between them.
Where words didn’t exist, the movements of their hands did, an unspoken conversation taking place.
Charlie brushed his thumb across her knuckles, following the line from there down to the fingertips and back up.
The feeling of her hand in his silently echoed the various things he loved about her.
The smooth and almost porcelain-like quality of her skin, like those soft edges she so often tried to hide.
The sharp sting of her nails as they playfully dug into his hand, like the sharpness of her tongue when it was needed.
The warmth radiating through her hand, like the pure ray of sunshine she could be, lighting up his entire world.
He didn’t want to stop touching her, caressing her, feeling her skin against his.
Sam pulled Charlie’s hand into her lap, her fingers tracing lazy circles along the curve of his palm.
It was a featherlight touch, but it kicked up sparks of electricity that skittered along his skin and forced the hair on his arm to stand up on end.
It felt electric, sitting there with Sam’s head on his shoulder and her hand teasing his.
It all felt so natural, as if this was how it was always meant to be, and the thought caused Charlie to choke on the sense of yearning clawing desperately at the back of his throat.