Page 5 of Out of Focus

“So, you did have your eyes closed,” I tease with a smirk now firmly planted on my face, and her whole body goes rigid. I think she even stops breathing.

“Please, no. No, no, no,” she whispers as she finally exhales. Slowly, she starts to move her arm. Her face is all scrunched up, eyes shut tightly, and as her fingers move over her face, she whispers a final please. I lean forward, not wanting to wait to see the face of this angel who just walked right into me, and when her eyes open to reveal the brightest blue I’ve ever seen, a bolt of lightning hits me square in the chest, and I rear back, nearly falling on my ass as well.

“Chuck?”

“Bloody hell.” She brings both hands to her face, and I see the not-small scrape she’s got on her elbow and forearm. “Ow, ow, ow.”

“Yeah, you are a little bloody. Can I help you up?” I extend a hand toward her, and her mouth twists up into an even more severe scowl.

“Oh, you’ve got jokes, have you, Rafael? Brilliant, really.” She attempts to pull herself up, but she’s clearly sore from the fall and a little disoriented. I reach out again, and she swats at my arm, flailing about as she tries to stand. I could sit back and watch, but I don’t want her to hurt herself any further, so I reach out and grab her under her arms, pulling us both up.

With the momentum of it all, her body ends up plastered directly on mine, and it hits me that I have only been this close to Charlie once before. I freeze. My hands are still holding her, my thumbs most definitely digging into the sides of her breasts. Not gonna focus on that right now.

She tips her head up to look at me, a look of pure shock on her face. She has so many freckles on her nose and cheeks. I’ve never been able to see them like this before. My fingers itch to connect those dots, to wipe the hair that’s clung to her forehead, to feel how warm her rosy cheeks are.

“You can let me go now.” Her voice cracks, and she clears her throat. I’ve rattled her. Fuck, I love that feeling. And when I realize she’s gripping my bicep even tighter than I am her, I know just what to say.

“You’re gonna have to let me go, too, red.” I smirk and loosen my hold on her, but don’t let go. She drops her hand quickly as if the realization that she’s touching me causes her physical pain. She takes a forceful step back and stumbles, and I lower my hold to her waist to steady her. Frustrated, she huffs out a breath, more at herself than at me, I think.

“I’m good. Please let me go so I can go drown in a tub of ice cream and forget this ever happened.” She winces as she curls her left arm around herself, and blood smears onto her shirt.

“I live around the corner. Let me clean this up for you so you don’t get blood everywhere, yeah?” My heart beats violently inside my chest, and I’m not sure if it’s from being this close to her or the idea of having her in my house. If I know her, she’s going to fight me on this. She fights me on everything.

Sure enough, she shakes her head. “It’s all right. I’m staying… actually, I don’t really know where I am.” Her eyebrows furrow, and her cheeks turn a delicious shade of cherry red. “I’m fine, though, really, I—” She stops as she takes in the blood marks on her shirt and the scratches running along her forearm. Her eyes widen again, and her once-flushed cheeks pale.

“I got you, Ginger Spice. Come with me.” I extend my arm, knowing she won’t take it. She doesn’t. I point in the direction we’re going to be walking in and turn, giving her a moment to gather herself. It feels like she needs it.

A couple of minutes later, I hear her take in a deep breath. “What were you listening to?” Her voice is so quiet I almost don’t hear her. I chance a look back at her and find her looking up at me. Some of the color is back on her face, and she’s cradling her arm close to her body.

I slow my pace so I can walk next to her, rather than ahead. “Uh, it was an audiobook. I usually listen to them on my runs.” I shrug, swallowing down the unsaid words, the reason I usually listen to books rather than read them.

“What book?” Her eyebrows shoot up, and I revel in her sudden curiosity in anything that has to do with me. She’s never asked me anything about myself before.

“It’s a romance novel. The last in this series, actually, which really sucks because it’s really, really good.” When I look at her again, she cocks her head to the side, silently asking again the question I haven’t yet answered. “It’s called Flirting with Fate by C.M. Howe. Have you heard of it?” It’s very likely she has. Elaina got me onto this series, and she’s working with Adam on the movie adaptations of the books.

“Mm-hmm. Yep. I know it.” She rolls her lips between her teeth, almost like she wants to say more. Maybe she thinks it’s weird a guy is reading smutty romance books, but I’ve never cared about that. “Do you run often?” She changes the subject, and given her current state, I don’t push to talk about what she thinks of the book.

“Every day, yeah. You?” Fuck, I swear I’m usually a better conversationalist than this, but Charlie always gets me in a fucking state. Like all my good, working brain cells leave my body when she’s around. It’s probably why I made a horrible first impression when we met. Probably why we still don’t get along.

She shrugs and winces as her scraped arm rubs against her shirt. “Not running, no. Walking. I do it as often as I can. It helps me clear my head. It’s why I don’t usually listen to anything when I go for walks, though. There’s enough noise up here, you know?” Using her uninjured arm, she taps her temple with her index finger. When she drops her arm again, her eyebrows furrow, and she shakes her head lightly. “Sorry. TMI. I go for daily walks, but since getting to California, I haven’t had much of a chance. I don’t know Santa Monica well, so that complicates things, I suppose.”

“You’re staying here? In Santa Monica? Not with Maeve?” The surprised tone slips out, and that little crease makes a comeback between Charlie’s brows. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.” I clear my throat and look ahead, putting a bit of distance between us.

“I’m staying here. In Taylor’s flat. He moved in with his partner, so he’s letting me sublet it. For as long as I need.” Her voice wobbles at that last word, which tells me this is an obviously sensitive topic for her. But the thought of Charlie being here is oddly exhilarating. We only see one another a few times a year, and I’m always greedy for more. More of calling her by her nicknames. More of her blushes. More of the eye rolls she loves to throw my way.

I connect the dots after a few seconds of silence. “Taylor’s place is just down the street from me. We’re practically neighbors.” I smile at the thought and look down to catch her scowl, which only makes me smile wider. “I could show you a few of my routes around here. It’s a safe neighborhood, but, uh, don’t go for walks at night, yeah?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” I’m not sure whether she’s agreeing to let me show her the routes or not going for walks at night, but we arrive at my place, and I direct her toward the gate. “Whoa. This is nice.” I note the surprise in her tone but choose not to address it.

“Thank you,” I respond jovially. Rather than taking her inside, I head to the backyard. “Have a seat. I’ll grab a first aid kit real quick.” She nods and pulls out a chair at the outdoor dining table, still clutching her arm close to her body.

I take the few minutes inside to gather myself. It’s weird having Charlie here. This whole interaction has been strange. We’re almost never alone; we haven’t talked this much since that first New Year’s Eve, and seeing her hurt is making me squirmy. I’m gonna need to go for a run to recover from this run.

When I walk out with gauze, peroxide, and a couple of bandages, she’s sitting with her head thrown back. The sun is shining on her body, but her face is perfectly shielded in the shade. I stupidly let the door slam behind me, and she jolts, sitting up and flinching when her forearm hits the side of the table. Damn it. I’m an idiot. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She eyes the contents in my hands and swallows nervously. Great. Now I’m nervous too. I set everything on the table and pull out a chair so I can face her. I hold out my hand to look at her arm, and she sucks in a sharp breath. “Oh. I can do this. It’s all right, you don’t have to.”

Fuck, this is so fucking awkward. “It’ll be hard for you to see from this angle. I really don’t mind.” Her gaze locks in on my hand, still out in front of her. “May I touch you?” When she blinks again, her eyes meet mine for a brief moment.

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