3. Charlie
3
Present
I bang hard on his door, probably bruising my knuckles in the process but worth it. He needs to know how serious I am.
It’s a real bitch to get here so he better be home because I am not making this trip again.
There’s no answer and I turn my head back to the narrow, winding road leading up to the property. The small ranch-style house is settled in the outskirts of the hustle and bustle of Hideaway Springs. Which makes sense for Noah. He’s not exactly the type to live communally. He’s always liked his privacy. His quiet.
Here, civilization is replaced by nature. Tall pines line the gravel road, their branches swaying in the mountain breeze. Early morning sunlight filters through rustling leaves, and it smells… different here. It smells like the best parts of Hideaway Springs in a bottle. And…a little bit like him.
Noah pulls open the door. He’s in flannel pajama pants and a clean white t-shirt that looks like it was just thrown over his torso. It’s slightly folded over at the chest, and I itch to pull it down for him.
My eyes widen as I realize what I’m doing. And at what time.
It’s barely seven a.m. and I too am in my pajamas ready to ream out the guy who’s heart I crumbled three years ago.
When the initial shock of my appearing at his doorstep wears off, his expression turns bored.
I hate bored.
I prefer hard, cruel, angry, hell, I’ll even take hurt over bored .
“Stop it,” I grit out, standing beside five grocery bags I had to schlep all the way here.
Noah looks down leisurely at them, then back at me.
“Stop. Sending. Me. Food.”
He crosses his arms and sighs. He actually sighs.
“ Apparently, it’s against the law to hand out groceries to the homeless. Something about liability. So this is just a waste. What, do you have me on some sort of weekly subscription or something?”
It’s the second week of home delivery of basic groceries to my door since my mother passed, but he’s not saying anything so obviously, I’m going to ramble.
Some things never change.
“Charlotte. How are you?”
“I’m fine. And I’m capable of doing my own shopping, thank you.”
“I know. It’s just what people do as a way of—”
“They send flowers. Fruit baskets. A freaking card . Not this .” I throw my arms down to gesture around me, catching a small lizard near one of the bags. I stomp it away and close my eyes to collect my bearings.
Stay cool. Just stay cool.
I manage a polite smile. "It's really unnecessary. So please quit it .” Okay, I snapped that last part, but the effort was totally there.
He perks his brows as if stating the obvious. “You want to talk about unnecessary?”
“My coming here was necessary. You delivering food to my house is not. You’re crossing lines I don’t need crossed, Reeves.”
“What, helping you at a tough time?” His voice rises—which is rare—and I’m ignited.
“It’s not a tough time. My mother’s death was expected, and I was prepared. I still go to work every day. I still buy groceries.” Granted, nothing like the expensive shopping list in the bags by my feet, but I manage. “ And I can still cook.”
Another perked brow. This one, a little mocking.
“Grilled cheese and homemade fries count,” I argue.
He sighs and glances down. “Fine. No more groceries.”
I want to scream for how casual he always seems to be around me while I struggle to keep the pieces of my heart glued together. “Thanks.”
He steps back. “Come in. We need to talk.”
I step back in the opposite direction. “We can talk out here.”
He glances over my shoulder. “It’s about my brother’s wedding.”
I wait for what I imagine this could be about.
I’m bringing a date.
I don’t want it to be awkward.
Have you considered leaving town right after now that you have no reason to stay?
“Chase asked me to be his best man. And I know you’re Pepper’s maid of honor.”
Oh so this is going to be a dig about how I have no honor. Great. Can we get the cheating comments over with now, please?
“We need to assure them, Pepper especially, that we can be cordial, and we won’t ruin their wedding with a scene.”
He’s so robotic, it makes me want to scream.
“When have I ever caused a scene?” I nearly wince as I say it.
“Their fake engagement party. Jackson’s birthday.”
I smirk at the memory of my slapping him across the face, then hide it with a head shake and turn away from him.
“It’s one evening, Charlotte, surely you can manage.”
“You’re such a guy. Don’t you know what this means? It’s not just the wedding. It’s planning their bachelor parties, the rehearsal dinner, speeches, keeping them both sane and from running into each other the morning of.” I motion between the two of us. “There’s a lot of coordination that needs to happen.”
He looks genuinely confused. “I don’t follow.”
I growl. “Ugh. I thought he was choosing Levi.”
“So did I,” he adds defensively.
“I’ll talk to Pepper. Tell her I’m…not emotionally ready to take this on.”
“You just said you’re fine.” There’s that edge to his voice again. The one that slices through me.
“Look, just stop sending me groceries.” I dip down to one of the bags and take out the blue and white box. “But I am taking these.” I lift the family-size box of Oreos and storm off to my car.
Even with no one around us, I manage to cause a scene. This little pairing my best friend refused to share with me is not going to work.
“I’m sorry, Pepper, I love you, but I’m not doing it. No way, no how.”
My best friend stares at me in amusement. “Okay, cowgirl, slow down. Who says you have to work with Noah on anything? Just do your thing and he’ll do his.” She brushes her hands like it’s that simple.
“Oh, sure,” I stand and begin pacing her living room. “If you’re okay with uncoordinated bachelor and bachelorette parties, accidentally running into your groom before the ceremony on your wedding day because your bathroom breaks weren’t pre-cleared and a mishmash of speeches from the bridal party because we didn’t discuss who’s speaking first or when, then I don’t know why you’re getting married at all.”
Pepper shakes her head softly and embraces me. “It’s okay. I don’t need a maid of honor. I really don’t need any of those things. It’s practically my third wedding. It doesn’t count. Plus, that’s a lot of pressure on you and I didn’t even consider the things you’d have to do. It was selfish of me.” She pouts. “My coming back to town was…selfish.”
I glare at her. “You’re a real bitch, you know that?”
She shines her perfect teeth. “Is it working?”
“Pepper. I was happy to do it all. Just not with Noah.”
“What happened between you two? I remember bits and pieces, but it still doesn’t make sense. How did you come to be known as “the cheater” in this town anyway? Especially since you’re so… innocent.” She glances down to my crotch as if I’d need a hint as to what she’s referring to.
I sigh and slump down on the couch. “The night we broke up, it was our one-year anniversary. I surprised him at his apartment—where he lived before he bought his house in the woods. He had long hours interning at a big law firm in Denver so I wanted to do something special. I cleaned his apartment, made dinner, even bought a sexy black dress. And you know black is not my color.”
Pepper scrunches her nose, knowing me well.
“We hadn’t had sex yet. Noah was very particular about it. He said he wanted to make sure I was ready, and we didn’t need to rush, and that I was special to him.”
Pepper reaches for her wine. “That all sounds nice. But I mean, everyone knows he wasn’t exactly a monk.”
“Nope. Far from it. But he never dated. I think I was his first real girlfriend which is why I gave him time. Maybe he didn’t know how to just be with a girl, how to differentiate between casual sex and something more intimate, you know?”
She nods and there’s a look of compassion that’s eerily similar to one my mother would give me.
I brush it off. “I was in no hurry, to be honest. Noah had this…reputation for being wild in bed…and I wasn’t experienced. So I guess I didn’t push it because…I was afraid he’d be disappointed and…grow distant.”
Now I know why I never told Pepper the full story. It makes me sound like a lovesick sap.
“So that night, we were kissing, it was so sweet and I… suggested we move things to the bedroom. He stopped, saying we’re moving too fast.”
“Ugh, the jerk.”
“I got angry, rambled like I do about how he keeps pushing me away and stormed out of the apartment.”
“Where did you go?” She knows the answer but I know she wants me to finish.
“The Inn.”
That night. Three years ago.
“Why do you look sad? You just got a free drink.” Carter Hayes asks as I settle into an empty barstool. I smile, welcoming the friendly face I know from college. We both graduated earlier this year. He’s tall with dirty blonde hair— and it’s honestly some of the sexiest hair I’d ever seen. Always had the urge to ruffle it.
I’d just ordered a glass of merlot from Aiden Reeves, Noah’s dad and owner of Hideaway Springs Inn. He tossed me a wink and held up a hand to stop me when I tried to pay him.
I’ve always liked him. All the Reeves men are likable in their own way. Yes, even Chase, who was always too cocky and dry for my liking.
“I’m not sad. More like frustrated.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Carter offers.
I lift my wine glass and wink so he doesn’t think I’m blowing him off. “This’ll help.”
He nods and takes a swig of his beer. We both swirl in our chairs, taking in the growing crowd. The Denver Kings game is on and I’d completely forgotten about it. Noah never comes to the Inn when the game is on. He hates big crowds.
It works for us because I don’t typically hang out around town without him. I’m not very popular, except by association as Noah’s girlfriend. But nearly everyone who’s anyone is at the Inn tonight, drinking like Chase Reeves already won for the team.
Two glasses of wine later, I’m suddenly really into the game.
Carter leans in. “We’ll make a hockey fan out of you yet.”
“I’m just rooting for my boyfriend’s brother.” I shrug.
He frowns. “Where is Noah anyway?”
Probably wondering how to break up with me gently since he’s clearly never going to sleep with me.
I finish off the glass and set it down. That’s it. No more for me.
“You guys okay?” he asks.
“Of course.” My shoulders drop with a groan. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t think I’m—” I stop before I say 'his type'.
“Well, I’m glad you came out. Especially since I never had the chance to get to you before Noah did.”
I twist my neck slightly, finding his kind, shy eyes. “What?”
“Come on, Charlie, you’re a knockout. The only reason no one’s asked you out in the past few years is because you were tied at the hip with Noah.”
Is he for real? I laugh him off. “I was not.”
“Were too. Even before you started dating.”
“How do you know that?” I ask with genuine curiosity.
He shakes his head like I’m totally clueless. Then holds up his glass. “To finally getting some one-on-one time with you.”
I frown, feeling slightly awkward. “Am I supposed to drink to that?”
He cranks his neck. “I sure am.”
I smile, feeling…appreciated. Wanted.
My phone vibrates minutes later and I’m debating on getting a third before I find a text from Noah.
Noah: Can we talk?
I’m already talking. To someone who wants to spend time with me.
Noah: Where are you?
I slip my phone back in my purse and order that next drink. Aiden smiles with caution. “You got a ride home, right?”
I turn to Carter. “You got a car?”
“Sure do.”
I turn back to my boyfriend’s father. “He’s my ride.”
Mr. Reeves eyes the innocent bar patron suspiciously but doesn’t say anything.
I’m not sure how much time passes before I hear cheering and assume the game went well and is over. Which means, I need to get going.
“Thanks for hanging out with me, Carter.”
“It was my pleasure.” He helps me off the stool, and I tumble into him. God his chest is warm. And…inviting. Not cold and stiff the way Noah gets when I try to touch him.
My hand lingers on his chest and he gazes down at me. I feel the room go quiet or maybe it’s all in my head.
I feel eyes on us. But I don’t let it stop me as I allow Carter’s lips to fall on mine.
What…is happening? I’m so lost in this embrace of passion that I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. These lips, they’re foreign. Not Noah’s.
Noah.
I tear my lips from his in horror, my hand on my chest. “Oh my God,” I whisper.
I step back in confusion. “I’m sorry. I have to go.” I turn from his reach and concerned eyes and bolt for the exit. I weave through bodies and unwelcome glares before slamming hard against a body.
A familiar body.
My eyes lift to meet his.
His pained, angry, icy blue eyes.