Page 84 of The Charm of You

I lick my lips and rush toward the window, where I unlatch the lock and struggle to pry it open. Is the damn thing frozen shut? Much like a mom lifting a car off her child, I draw on strength I didn’t know existed and finally manage to heave it open.

The breeze dances over my clammy skin, and I release a sharp breath. Chest heaving, I wave for Austin to join me next to his escape route.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” he clips with disbelief.

“My mom cannot see you up here!” I whisper-scream. “She’ll know we were up to no good, and that’s so embarrassing.”

“More embarrassing than a grown man climbing out of a window?” He cocks a brow.

I hear my mother’s voice again, and it only grows closer. There’s no time to talk this out, so I shove the monstrous-sized man as forcefully as possible, which admittedly, isn’t much. My strength is laughable compared to his.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I will make it up to you if you would please just do this for me.”

“Christ,” he mumbles as he throws one large leg out and curls his back into a hump.

Oh, God. He’s not going to fit, is he? My palms sweat with panic.

Through painful-looking finagling, Austin finally manages to duck himself out onto the other side, where he drops onto the roof of the porch awning.

Before he releases his grip of the windowsill, I lean out into the night and stop him. “Wait!” I hiss.

Confusion in his eyes reflects under the moonlight.

I bend at the waist, hold his cheeks between my palms, and plant a wet kiss on his mouth. “Thank you.”

His nostrils flare as he deeply inhales. “We’re even now. On everything.”

The twitch in his lips fills my ovaries with joy.

With one more peck, he inches away, and I’m mid-dreamy sigh when my mother’s voice sounds from my open bedroom door.

I whirl toward the noise, and I bump the back of my head against the windowsill. “Ow!” I wince and squeeze my eyes closed in attempt to ward off the stinging pain.

“Heavens!” Mama rushes over, and more humiliation floods my cheeks—they’re freaking burning.

I don’t know how far Austin’s gotten, but I can’t let my mom near the window. Otherwise, this ridiculous exit would’ve been for nothing.

I wave reassuringly and twirl around to pull her attention on me so that her back faces the window. “I’m fine. All good. No worries,” I ramble.

“What on earth were you doing hanging out of the window like that?” She gives me a once-over, and concern fills her frowning eyes.

“I was, um… I was looking at the moon. It’s… luminescent tonight,” I say, but it comes out like a question.

Where in the world did that word come from? I’ve never used it in my life.

“It is rather lovely.” She offers a hesitant smile, and I’m not sure it’s safe to say we’ve thwarted any embarrassment.

I force my own smile, but it falters when curiosity clouds her expression.

“Did I see Austin’s truck parked on the street?” she asks.

My heart plummets into my stomach. His truck—how did I not think of that? “Truck? Pfft.” I make a sound that resembles one a bird might make. “There are so many pickups around this town that they all look the same, don’t they? I can never tell.”

She brushes past me but stops by the bedroom door again. “Thanks for pouring me a glass of wine. What a pleasantly surprising treat.”

“You’re so welcome,” I squeak. “I’ll be right down to share the other glass with you.”

Once she leaves, humming a light melody, my shoulders slump forward because I’m pretty positive my mother knows I had a boy up here.

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