Chapter 16
CHARLIE
Bringing Sam here was one of Charlie’s better ideas. He couldn’t deny that the surprise, however, hadn’t been entirely for the purest of reasons.
The stress of relaying calls between Tyler, Peter, and his mother for planning purposes was wearing down on him.
He’d decided to surprise her with this to distract himself from all the chaos going on with that area of his life.
He knew it would help him focus on something good, something he looked forward to.
The sensation of Sam’s lips lingered, electricity dancing across his fingertips from where her lips had touched.
All he’d wanted today was one thing—one thing that could drag him from the depths of all the thoughts and feelings that had been plaguing him all week.
That smile.
Sam’s smile was one of the only things that could bring him back from the precipice, and he had selfishly wanted it by any means necessary.
When he got that smile from her earlier, the one that gave her an almost ethereal glow, everything felt right with the world again.
He hadn’t been thinking about what effect seeing her eat that strawberry would have on him.
The puckering of her lips, the sucking sound she made so her bite wouldn’t fall, the swift movement of her hand to catch any juices before it could escape down her chin, that little half-covered groan she’d made when it hit her taste buds…
Practically orgasmic to witness.
He had pulled his hand away to suck the juice from his fingers, hardly even noticing the juice that had trailed most of the way down his arm, before she could see exactly what that little groan she made did to him.
Thank God they’d both been squatting.
His thoughts turned to what she said to him before, desperately finding anything to relax his body. The comment had made him want to simultaneously laugh and scream at the same time.
How was he single, indeed.
The answer remained there, untouched between them, however, as plainly to him as if he would’ve stamped it across his forehead.
How could he possibly think about another woman when she would always be the one thing he ever wanted.
Peter had been suspicious of him about it more than a few times growing up. He would tease him about it, as brothers do, often relentlessly. But despite Charlie’s protests and denials, Peter seemed to know better.
It wasn’t until they had both moved out and gone to college that Charlie thought he might be able to have the opportunity to ask for more.
See if there was a chance she might feel the same.
That is, until he’d accidentally overheard her talking to Angel about it one night back when they’d been hanging out at Angel and Sam’s apartment.
He knew then that any chance he might have had was long gone.
The fact remained, however, that Charlie loved her regardless of whether or not they were together in that way. He’d likely always carry that torch for her, but he loved her enough to keep things the way they were.
Another fact cropped up at the same time.
This situation was destined to burn them both if they weren’t careful. He knew that, but part of him didn’t want to care about it. Let them go up in flames together; he’d welcome it. All he wanted was to burn with her. Scorch them both until they were completely ruined for anyone else.
That was a fairytale. At the end of the day, he knew what this was between them right now, and he needed to keep reminding himself of that every chance he got, or he would be the only one to get burned.
Sure, they’d always been a bit flirty with one another. He wasn’t a complete idiot. But that was all it had ever been, flirting. Nothing more. He would always be just a friend, or at least if what she’d told Angel back in college was to be believed.
With their baskets filled to the brim, they strolled back over to the main building. The pace slow as they enjoyed the warmth surrounding them, delaying the inevitable end of their outing—but they weren’t about to leave just yet. Charlie wanted more time, even if it was just a few minutes.
This place wasn’t only known for their strawberries; they had fresh ice cream in the adjacent building, so he knew exactly what to do next.
“Here, take these over and snag a table for us,” he instructed as he pointed to the group of picnic tables to the left of the pavilion, beneath an open wooden canopy. “I’ll grab us some ice cream and join you in a minute.”
“Oh, Charlie, at least let me pay for this…” She started before he held up a hand to stop her.
“Nope, I got this. This was my surprise, after all. Let me spoil you a little, hm?”
He gave her a gentle push, watching in amusement as her gaze flickered in that stubborn way of hers. She wanted to protest further. He could practically hear the words tumbling out of her mouth, but she didn’t.
She turned on her heels, both baskets in hand, and headed to one of the picnic tables.
He, in turn, went the opposite way. Pulling open the screen door and walking up to the counter. He ordered two cones, a chocolate for him and a strawberry, of course, for her.
Glancing over his shoulder through the glass window separating him from the picnic area, he watched as Sam comfortably settled down at one of the tables toward the back.
Her gaze was fixed firmly on her phone as she sat down.
The shade from the umbrella centered on the table helping to ease the squint of her eyes as she began typing away.
He relaxed back against the counter, folding his arms across his chest. The cashier behind him hummed as she worked, the song choice a familiar one that he couldn’t quite remember the last time he’d heard.
He mulled it over for a moment before the realization hit him.
A memory flashed by, so vivid and unexpected that he could practically feel the heat of the car as it had driven away.
Erica rolling her window down and leaning out, the sound of this song blaring through the speakers as her friends chattered behind her. The affectionate wink and finger to her lips as they had driven away. A memory he had replayed countless times over the years.
She’d known he’d keep her secret.
And he’d regretted it every day of his life ever since.
He swallowed the growing lump in his throat and pushed the memory aside. He’d gotten very good at trying to forget, but with the anniversary fast approaching, it was always more difficult.
It was the last thing he wanted to be thinking about right now.
Luckily, the cashier called out to him, holding out two generously endowed cones toward him. He was here, with Sam. They were on a date, regardless of the circumstances surrounding it. It was still a date, and he was determined to show her a good time. She deserved that much.
He swung the screen door open on the other side of the building, circling around to head to the table.
Sam was standing now, appearing to be engrossed in a phone call now.
Her animated gestures, aimed at no one in particular, made it appear to be a less-than-pleasant conversation.
There were only a few people in the world he knew of who could sink their teeth into her like that, and the thought of it had him fuming.
What could her aunt possibly want with her now?
There was little that the two of them hadn’t talked about over the years, but her family had always been something she intentionally spoke little of.
Not that he blamed her, as she reversely never pressed him on the topic of Erica, so he tried simply offer a sympathetic ear whenever she did open up about it.
His interactions with her aunt, and her aunt’s family, had been scarce, as they rarely indulged in anything, or anyone, that mattered to Sam. The handful of times he had been around them in person felt like too many.
Her aunt and uncle were the kind of snooty people that others would avoid at parties in fear of the constant one-ups every conversation seemed to bring with them. A constant battle for superiority in every action, every word.
It always left a bitter taste in his mouth, but it was part of the reason why she spent so much time at the Backman family home back then.
If there was any testament, however, to exactly how much his mother had grown to love Sam as one of her own, it had been about a year or so before they were scheduled to graduate from high school.
Sam and her aunt had a particularly nasty fight, over what he couldn’t recall her ever saying, and she had shown up at his front door.
The look on her aunt’s face, when she had finally shown up to try to drag Sam back home and his mother had gotten a hold of her instead, was priceless.
He slowed his pace, so as not to intrude on her call, despite his peaked curiosity.
Her gaze darted toward him as he approached, her hand hovering over the speaker. She mouthed an apology to him and accepted the cone he offered.
“I’m hanging up now,” she said with finality as she practically slammed her finger onto the red call button, looking back to him with a soft smile. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be. I can take a guess who that was.”
She paused for a second before she rolled her eyes and settled into the spot across from him. “She’s relentless and opportunistic, I’ll give her that.”
“What’d she want?”
She shrugged, taking a tantalizing lick of her ice cream that forced Charlie to dial into her voice like his life depended on it. “She’s been on me about putting in a good word in with my publisher.”
“For who? Her?”
“No, Tommy.”
“Tommy?” Charlie asked incredulously. Anyone who wanted to read a book written by that spoiled brat needed their head examined.
Sam giggled. “I know. I had the same reaction when she told me. But apparently, according to both of them, since I was able to make a career out of it, it must not be that hard, and he wants to try his hand at it and get a few bucks out of it.”
That protective instinct of his wanted to lash out, curling around him with a fist-like vice, but he took a steady breath instead.
If anyone knew how hard she’d worked over the years, had seen all the sleepless nights she’d spent writing, the countless hours she’d spent hovered over one of her books with a bright-red pen, it was him.
The mere insinuation that she was anything less than a literary genius was not going to fly for him.
“She sure changed her tune,” he offered simply, swiping some of his ice cream into his mouth.
Sam scoffed this time, trying to appear dismissive despite the hurt lingering in her eyes.
“Are we shocked? If it’s something I want to do with my life, it’s stupid and pointless and doesn’t bring the family any prestige.
The second Tommy hints he wants to do it, I’m suddenly under obligation to help. ”
“Tommy? Write a book?” Charlie shook his head. “I’m pretty sure not all the lights are on where he’s concerned.”
She stifled a laugh by taking another lick of her ice cream. “No, I’m still convinced that he didn’t get into Stanford on his own, but let’s not worry about them right now. There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”
“And that would be?”
Sam’s eyes softened on him. “How are you doing? Really. I know the anniversary is coming up, and…”
Charlie held up a hand to stop her. This was the last thing he wanted to talk about today, and he wasn’t about to let it ruin his day. “Stop. I’m fine, I promise.”
“I don’t want to push; I just want you to know you can always talk to me about it if you—”
“Thanks,” he quickly interrupted, “but I promise it’s not necessary.”
Sam considered him for a moment before she sighed and changed topics. “This has been a really fun day, Charlie. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you setting this up.”
She flashed that sunny smile of hers at him, and his body immediately relaxed. There it is.
“As much as I’d love to toot my own horn, this was literally nothing, Sam,” he replied with a laugh. “Five minutes of research and a bit of a drive is nothing. I’m just glad you enjoyed yourself.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, not a lot of guys I know would even think to do anything like this.”
“And that is painfully sad.”
Her laugh further warmed her features, causing the freckles across her nose to dance in the sunlight. “Come on, let me toot your horn for a bit.”
“Oh, if you insist. Though, if you think this is going above and beyond, babe, I have a lot of work to do as your fake boyfriend.”
She leaned back, raising an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know. This is already a pretty high bar to beat.”
He laughed this time. “And where is the bar usually? In hell?”