Page 121 of Always You

“Not gonna lie. I’m confused.” I turn my head when her sweet voice sounds next to me a hour later, my face instantly lightening up. “What are the two of you doing here?”

Her hands are planted on her sides, her beautiful features stern, fixed in half a glare.

She’s clearly not welcoming me with open arms, but it’s way more than I’d expected from her after she froze me out for over a year.

“My mom broke her leg,” I explain. “Couldn’t let her starve. Set up some help for her. We’re heading back to LA tomorrow.”

“I’m sure the old witch could cast a spell or two if she got really hungry,” she mutters, getting on the stool next to me, a mix of disdain and annoyance on her face. Not sure if it’s aimed at me or my mother, but feeling her energy so close to me makes me not give a shit either way.

“Funny, that’s exactly what I said,” Jason pitches in, bringing up his glass to her.

“How are you, Jason?”

“Good to see you, Charlotte.”

“You too.” Her co-worker places a Moscow Mule in front of her, and she mimics his move, then brings her glass to her plump lips, taking a sip. I watch how she licks her lips, swallowing the contents down her slender neck, feeling my dick stir alive.

Fuck.

“What about you?” I start, with a huskier voice than I intended.

“What about me?”

“What are you doing working in the local bar?”

Her eyes peer at me as she takes another sip, like the answer to that question falls heavy on her heart. Without thinking, I place my hand on her knee in encouragement, waiting for her. I can feel our connection sparking back to life when I touch her, making a shiver run down my spine as the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.Fuck, fuck.Doing my best to ignore the feeling, I keep looking at her with anticipation. Her little flinch tells me she feels it too, but her chin stays high, her features sporting a look of steel.

“Halfway through sophomore year, Mama found another lump.” Her exhale tightens my chest. “It was bad. I moved back home, and I’ve been going to community college ever since.”

Pressing my lips tightly together, I watch her face as the words leave her lips.

Regret has my head wobbling on my neck, feeling like even more of an asshole than I already am. I hate that she went through that again.

Without me.

“Babe,” I start.

“Don’t.” She brings up her hand. “I don’t need any pity. It’s fine. She’s doing better now. At first, they only gave her a few more months, but she was eligible for an experimental trial at Duke University, and that’s really been working. I’m only working at the bar one night a week. Just to get out of the house for anything other than groceries, hospital visits, or classes. Life is pretty boring in Braedon now that everyone has gone off to college.” Her lips are lifted, yet strained, and she brings her glass to her lips once more. It reminds me of my eighteenth birthday, that Pink Snowball and her lips on a tumbler in celebration of me. She wormed her way under my skin that night, and I’ve never been able to fully get her out.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?” she asks, the heat in her eyes simmering down a notch, claiming a little victory in my chest.

“Always see the positive in everything.”

“It’s not like I have any choice, Hunt. I can’t just cry in a corner. These are the cards life dealt. Gotta play the game.”

I shake my head in awe. “You’re something else.”

“You already knew that.” She gives me a taunting wink that makes my heart jump, and I let out a laugh before my gaze settles on her.

“Are you flirting with me, Charlotte Roux?”

“I wouldn’t dare, Hansen,” she counters, though her cheeks pinken.

She would. If not because she wants to, for the simple reason of trying to get a rise out of me, but the danger is? It only makes me want more. Desperate to relive the memories of our past, even if it’s only for a brief moment. Turning around, I scan the rest of the bar, looking for an empty booth. When my eyes land on one, the corner of my mouth rises as I slowly twist my gaze back to her.

“Let’s have a seat, get some privacy.” I expect her to give me some kind of snarky comment, and for a few beats, that’s exactly what is laced around her irises. Defiance. Reluctance. But her nostrils flare when she pushes out the air from her lungs and it all disappears with it. She nods, sliding off the stool as she starts making her way to the empty booth, and I follow her tracks.

---