Page 11 of If My Wishes Came True
But if he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it. He only grins. “My college roommate was from Michigan. He always used his hand to show people where he grew up. Do you do that?”
I nod, laughing. Areallaugh—not a fake giggle. “The Michigan hand map. You kinda have to do it when you Go Blue.”
“Show me,” he says, holding up his right hand. “Where’s Ann Arbor?”
I have to shift closer to him on the couch so I can reach. Is it possible that’s why he asked? Now I notice how good he smells, like fresh laundry. How attractive his broad shoulders are. I definitely have a thing for broad shoulders. It’s probably a remnant from my days doing cheer stunts. Those were the guys I wanted to spot me—strong and supportive. I always felt safewith them.
Being close to Charlie also feels safe. It feels natural, and I’m baffled by it. But instead of questioning it, I lean in. “Ann Arbor’s right here,” I say, sending my fingertips to the bottom of his hand, below his thumb. And when our hands meet, it’s?—
Electric.
I think he feels it, too. Because when I look at him, the pink hue in his cheeks is a few shades deeper than it was before we touched.
If the guy with the master key doesn’t get here soon, I’m afraid I’ll forget all about why I gave up on love in the first place. It’s so easy to get lost in his gaze. Time slows, and there’s nothing else but me and Charlie and the magnetic pull between us.
Until a sudden boom of thunder disconnects us.
Charlie’s phone. He pulls it out of his pocket and frowns at the screen.
“Is everything okay?” I ask him. I wonder if the key guy is delayed. My head and my heart are at odds about whether that would be a good thing.
“It’s my boss,” Charlie explains with a wry smile. “I don’t use that ringtone for everyone. Just him.”
“He seems pretty intense,” I say. “Does he always text late at night and on weekends?”
Charlie nods, running a hand over his hair. “Yeah. His boundaries could use some work.”
Even though I can see he isn’t happy receiving his boss’s messages, it doesn’t ruffle his feathers. He has this even-keeled vibe about him that feels rare, to me at least—considering thefamily I grew up in. My dad and Christy are wound super tight. I guess it’s hard not to be, when you won’t accept anything less than excellence from yourself. Or others.
My mom is on the opposite end of the spectrum. She’s a beautiful woman. Everyone says I’m the spitting image of her. But she’s never expected much out of herself. Of course my dad didn’t, either. It was assumed she would stay home and take care of me and Christy. I don’t think it made her happy, though. She often seemed like she was going through the motions—bored, and listless. The only time her eyes lit up was when she watched me paint all those years ago. Before my dad took that away from both of us.
Charlie’s phone chimes, but it’s a normal ding this time. He frowns again. “That’s the guy with the master key.”
“Oh.” My heart plummets twenty stories, to the ground floor. I guess I wanted the key guy to be delayed after all. But seeing the weight of disappointment on Charlie’s face lightens my heart a bit. I don’t think he wants to leave either.
“Thanks so much for taking me in, Jenna,” he tells me.
“It was my pleasure,” I say. But not in the bouncy, bubbly way I usually do. This time, I mean it.
When Charlie steps into the hallway, I fight the urge to offer him my phone number. It would be a friendly gesture, in case he ever got locked out again. If only my feelings for him were merely friendly.
But…this can’t be where it ends, can it? Will I ever speak to him again, other than a quick hi, here and there, by the elevator?
I stand in the doorframe as Charlie and the key guy exchange hellos. Then Charlie turns back to me. “Hey, let me take youto coffee,” he says with an unassuming grin. “To thank you for your hospitality.”
I have to work to keep from smiling as big as I want to. “I can’t say no to coffee.”
His eyes gleam. “You free tomorrow morning?”
“Sure am.”
“I’ll pick you up at ten,” he says, before the key guy lets him in.
I close the door and lean against it, afraid I’ll lose my balance again. Then I shut my eyes and breathe deep, trying to reconcile every emotion that’s hitting me at once. I honestly don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
What I do know is…I’m in trouble.
This feeling that Charlie stirs up in me? It isn’t just lust. It’s far worse than that.
