Page 125 of The One I Love
At least I thought we were friends. Mostly. Yes, we were competitive. Yes, we loved to one up each other. Yes, both of us always wanted to get the last word in. But at the end of the day, we were friends. I actually at the time hoped we could be more than that.
The woman starts walking again, and I swear my mind is fucking with me. Either that or I’ve had too much to drink.
It can’t be Charlie. She doesn’t live in Nashville. I mean, she could have moved here from Knoxville. But why? That is just one of the many questions I have if this woman is in fact Bug.
I know I’m staring, but I can’t help it. She’s exactly what I imagine Charlie would look like more than a decade later. Well, except for the red hair. My Bug was a blonde.
No, this woman is curvy in all the ways that used to drive me crazy whenever I was in her presence. And it wasn’t just her body that would drive me crazy. Her boldness was a turn on. Her confidence was sexy. And the way she could verbally spar with me better than anyone I had met? My pants got tight more than once because of that. Take right now. The woman who might or might not be Charlie is at least six inches shorter than every server she is talking to. Yet, standing there in herchef’s coat, pointing her finger in all directions, she’s commanding the room. Letting them know who’s boss.
Even if this woman isn’t Charlie, I might have to go introduce myself.
I hear the guys say something to Wes, but I don’t know what and I couldn't care less. Because suddenly, the woman turns around and I’m frozen in place.
Because there she is. My Bug.
She’s like a ghost of memories from the past. Late nights studying with her random concoction of snacks. The coffee she would make me every day even though I hated coffee. Arguing about who should be on the professional wrestling Mount Rushmore. Dance parties in my dorm room because we were slap happy from pulling all nighters.
The kiss. The one kiss. The last night I saw her.
No woman ever pushed me the way Charlie did. No one ever challenged me like her. Or called me out like she did. No one has ever, outside my immediate circle, made me smile like she could. And no one said no to my offers for dinner or a date more than she did.
She was one of a kind. In every way imaginable.
And she never said goodbye.
I nearly flip the table over as I push away from it and start making a beeline toward her. I’m guessing she hasn’t seen me. If she has, she’s doing a great job of ignoring me. Which also seems fitting considering the way she left all those years ago.
“Charlie!”
I’m pushing through groups of people without apologizing, which I know is a dick move. But I need to stop her before she disappears.
Again.
My pace picks up as I call out for, but she doesn’t turn around.
“Charlie!”
Okay now she has to be ignoring me. I just yelled so loud I think the DJ stopped playing music. And judging by the look on everyone’s faces they are hearing me just fine. Yet, she’s picking up her speed and not even looking back toward my yelling.
I’m just a few yards away from her when I watch her push the kitchen door open.
“Bug!”
This stops her on a dime.
She slowly turns around. It gives me a chance to take her in. Full curves. Red hair that reminds me of fire, which is sitting wildly on the top of her head in a messy ponytail. Deep blue eyes that I could get lost in so easily.
“Simon?”
“What the fuck Charlie?”
This takes her back. “Nice to see you too.”
Did I mention Charlie was sarcastic? The two of us when we were both on our game was a master class in smartass dialog. “Were you really not going to stop?”
“Stop?”
“I was yelling for you.”
