Page 55 of Quiet Longing

“It’s okay.” His gaze was tender. “I don’t mind a bit of pain if it means kissing you.”

My chest erupted with butterflies. I’d never get tired of the sensation. I took his hand, lacing my fingers through his. “You’re so strong, Rhys. I’ve never known anyone like you.”

He shook his head. “I’m not strong, but I will be. One day.”

I frowned. “What do you mean? Of course, you’re strong. If I’d been through what you have, I wouldn’t be as together as you are.”

“I might seem like I’m together, but I don’t feel it,” he said, and it broke something in me. I wished he could see what I saw when I looked at him. I wished he could see the boy I’d been drawn to from the very first time our eyes had met. “I feel like … like I’m just a collection of unformed bits. I don’t think I’ll ever feel like a complete person until I can get away.”

“Away?” I asked, blinking.

“I want to leave Ireland, at least for a couple years. Once the divorce is through and my mam is settled somewhere, I’m going.”

Something twisted in my gut at his words. It didn’t make sense, but I felt panicked, like him leaving Ireland meant I’d lose him. But I was going home in a couple weeks, and then a few weeks after that, I’d be at college. It wasn’t like this thing between us didn’t already have an expiration date. But I’d allowed myself to imagine it was far off in the distant future, something I didn’t need to immediately concern myself about. Suddenly, the weeks felt like they were rapidly hurtling forward, and before I knew it, Rhys and I would be separated. Our brief time together cut heartbreakingly short.

“Where will you go?”

“I want to join the French Foreign Legion, but if they don’t accept me, I’ll get a job somewhere, perhaps in security. I have some savings from working at the hotel.”

I stared at him. I only knew a little about the French Foreign Legion, but what I did know was that it was intense. Rhys wanted to become a soldier? Was that what he meant when he’d said he’d be strong one day? I wanted to tell him that joining some foreign army wasn’t going to fix the pain inside him. That he could become as big and strong and tough as he wanted, butin the end, he might still feel weak on the inside. But there was something in his eyes, something that told me he needed to latch onto this plan of his because if he couldn’t, he’d be completely lost.

I understood how having a goal and a purpose could save you during tough times. When Dad had passed away, I felt like I was floating in a void, unable to find joy or meaning in anything anymore. It was like being in an extended period of shock. But then Mom had pulled me out of it. She’d helped me figure out what I wanted to do, and I threw myself into my studies. Aiming for a scholarship was what had kept me afloat long enough to finally start swimming on my own again.

And that was why I didn’t tell Rhys his plan was flawed, nor did I beg him not to do it because the thought of him fighting in some future war made me panicky. Instead, I drew him close and wrapped my arms around his middle, careful to be gentle and not press against his bruises.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” I said. My heart was already aching, and he wasn’t even gone yet.

“I’ll miss you, too, Charli. Getting to know you this summer, even with all the shitty stuff going on in my life, has made things so much better. Being with you makes me forget about that for a while.”

His words brought on a sudden sense of urgency. I wanted to make the most of whatever time we had left together. I wanted to take care of him while he recovered, feel his body next to mine, kiss every scar, old and new, and show him he was worthy. Time was running out. I didn’t want to waste a single second more.

And that was why I looked up at him and whispered, “Stay in my bed tonight.”

14.

Rhys

“Stay in my bed tonight,” Charli whispered.

It was all I could do not to groan. I had no words, and my brain couldn’t form a single reason to decline. Today had been awful. Adrenaline still pumped through me from what I’d done. I didn’t know if the threat to Dad would work, if his self-preservation would kick in or if he’d simply lose control and lash out instead.

Looking into Charli’s honest hazel eyes—the effect she had on me and how I felt for her—had me forgetting all those worries. Her hand caught mine, instilling peace and stillness into my very bones. It was hard to fathom that this beautiful, captivating, funny, smart, and empathic girl who somehow managed to both soothe and excite me wanted me. She saw everything, knew it all, and still, she invited me to her bed.

Nodding, I let her lead me to her room.

The house was quiet, and we didn’t bump into anyone on our way. When she closed her bedroom door. I stood near her bed, feeling lost for a second before she came to me. She laced her fingers through mine just as she’d done downstairs. We lowered onto the covers, both fully clothed. Charli stretched out next to me, resting her head on my shoulder but not touching me anywhere else. I suspected she was worried about putting pressure on my injuries.

I hadn’t been lying when I’d told her I didn’t need a hospital. I’d suffered worse from dad in the past and managed to get better without medical intervention. It was why I had so many nasty scars, ones that were years old. Sometimes, Mam would tend to me, and I’d tend to her, but her fear and anxietyprevented her from seeing a doctor as often as she’d needed. She’d gone to her GP a few times and managed to explain things away, but I suspected they hadn’t believed her. Still, there wasn’t much they could do back then because she wasn’t prepared to press charges. She’d still believed Dad could change, and the relief she’d finally been broken out of that spell was immeasurable.

Charli lightly stroked my arm, the gentle motion and her soothing presence lulling me to sleep. Just being with her, her warmth next to me, her scent, I felt like the luckiest bastard in the world.

I woke up a few hours later. It was almost midnight, and Charli was sleeping soundly next to me, her breathing deep and even. My body ached, my senses full of her coconut shampoo and subtle, flowery perfume.

I couldn’t stay. Not only would it be disrespectful to Padraig and Jo when they’d put me up in their house, but Derek would likely start blowing up my phone wanting to know where I was if I didn’t turn up soon.

Soaking in the sight of Charli’s pretty features serene in slumber, I smoothed some of her thick, silky hair away from her face then eased slowly out of bed. Leaving her room, I gently closed the door, trying to make as little noise as possible.

I’d just reached Derek’s room when his door flew open, “And what time do you call—” His words fell off when he saw me, his eyebrows drawing together, mouth forming a stiff line. “Bloody hell, Rhys, what happened to you?”

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