Page 14 of The Charm of You

As she and I greet each other, he rises from his seat like a gentleman, and I respect that.

Addie’s a petite woman, but when she practically tackles me into a hug, I’m surprised by the force. “I didn’t think you’d be here until next Wednesday, not that I’m not glad to see you earlier.”

“I know you love your schedules and calendars, but plans do change sometimes, through no control of our own,” I tease, but I’m also serious.

She blinks. “I don’t even understand the words you just spoke. Is there such a thing as plans changing?”

“Yes. So try not to pencil in every second of every day once in a while, and live on the edge.” Although I believe my advice is sound, it’s futile when it comes to Addison Lockhart. She’s been one rigidly organized person since she was thirteen, and she’s not going to change now. “How is the planning for the reunion?”

“Great,” she says with a squeak, which means she’s stressed. “I have my happy helper today, so it’s all great.”

I peer behind her at the towering, mysterious man she must be sarcastically referring to. He looks to be anything but happy, with his tight lips firmly set into a brooding frown. His short beard frames his square jaw to perfection, and it’s darker than the sandy-blond color of the tousled hair on his head.

Since Addie and I started chatting, the crease between his brows has deepened, and the left side sinks farther into the center like he’s in grave contemplation.

His lips thin further when I reach my hand out. “I’m Caroline,” I say. “You must be the happy helper Addie mentioned. What’s your name?”

Instead of taking my hand or answering the question, the guy stuffs both hands into the pockets of his loose jeans and pulls his shoulders back into a surprisingly intimidating stance.

Next to me, Addie laughs, but it’s unmistakably nervous. Even if I didn’t grow up with her, I’d still recognize such a hesitant sound. “You two know each other, silly. This is Austin. He was in our graduating class.”

chapter

four

AUSTIN

Everything about Caroline Summers is golden sunshine—her thick, wavy hair, her shimmery skin, and the proverbial halo wrapped around her damn head.

She was the cheer captain. The homecoming queen. The center of half our male population’s fantasies, including my own. Her father was the sheriff, but it didn’t stop any of our knuckleheaded classmates from wiggling their way into her life, if only to carry her fucking backpack.

We shared a few classes, but not many. She mostly took AP English, AP History, and the like, while I took classes and workshops like woodworking at the vocational school. Our paths still crossed every now and then in the cafeteria, at the occasional Friday night football game, and school assemblies, and each interaction fueled the pathetic—and very secret—crush I had on her.

Now Caroline is back in town, and she doesn’t remember me. Again.

After the night I found her under the bleachers during our senior year, I’d convinced myself it was a fluke. It was dark, and she couldn’t see me well. Or perhaps she was too shy and afraid to correct her friends, who thought I was from the opposing school.

I filled many sleepless nights with the possibilities, but the truth was as obvious as it was humiliating—she just never noticed me.

Why should I expect her to recognize me now?

As I stand in front of Caroline for the first time since graduation, sweat trickles down my stock-still back, even though Mrs. Goodwin has the AC on blast.

“This is Austin Kyle. The three of us took Spanish together,” Addie continues her feeble attempts to remind the precious homecoming queen of the peasants in her orbit. “I think the weirdest thing about me teaching at the high school now is calling Señora Gomez my colleague. She still wears those blinding tie-dyed kimonos like a cape, and she’s as whimsical as ever.”

Addie’s rambling, but it’s no use. The fucking princess of Sapphire Creek doesn’t remember her own classmate, who she basically saw every week for four years.

Caroline still stares at me, raking her clueless gaze over my face, chest, and feet.

The longer I tower over her, the more her cheeks redden, and the color spreads down her neck like roots growing through soil.

“Addie, sweetheart,” Mrs. Summers interrupts. “If you need any help for the reunion, please give me a call. Caroline is also at your disposal.” She grips her daughter’s arm, then turns to me. “Austin, dear. Tell your mother she owes me a rematch of Wess.”

“Wess?” Caroline quirks a brow. She’s sure missed a lot around here.

“It’s a combination of wine and chess. Is there any other way to play the game?” Mrs. Summers giggles.

“Will do, ma’am.” I nod to her and Addie, then spin on my heel toward the door, my jaw clenched and ready to crack, especially since Caroline Summers’s stupid perfume follows me out.

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