Page 94 of Stick Break
I head back, eager to wake Charley with a kiss, or more. As I move through the sleepy town, I catch more eyes on me than usual, recognition flickering in their expressions. I tug the brim of my hat lower. My phone buzzes. My heart jumps, hoping it’s Charley.
I swipe across the screen. “Hey.”
“Well, nice to hear from you too,” Roman chuckles.
“Sorry. I thought…” I pause. “I thought you were someone else.”
“Oh yeah?” he teases. “You got yourself a hot little number down at the beach?”
I laugh. “Actually… yeah. But don’t call her that.” Before he can say anything, I continue with, “I can’t wait for you to meet her,” knowing that’ll get his attention.
I hear a squeaking sound, and can picture him sitting up a bit straighter. “Dude?”
“You’re really going to like her.”
“Tell me everything. Don’t leave anything out.”
A deep laugh rumbles from my chest. “You’re worse than Elias’s grandmother.”
“Gabby,” he yells. “Come here, you need to hear this?—”
“It’ll have to wait. I’ll tell you when I get home next week.”
“Dude, no. You’re killing me.”
As I pass a man walking his dog, he throws a lingering glance my way. I duck my head. “I have to go. I’ll catch up with you later.” As he groans, I end the call. When I reach the cottage, I half-expect to find Charley on the porch, coffee in hand, guitar on her lap, humming something soft and sweet. But the porch is empty. I check the time and a strange tug pulls in my gut, a niggling that I think is trying to warn me.
But of what?
I unlock the door and slip inside quietly, just in case she’s still asleep. The house is silent, save for the rush of water behind the bathroom door. I head toward it and try the handle. Locked. My stomach drops. She never locks the door.
I knock. “Charley? I’m back.” The water shuts off abruptly. I wait. Then knock again. “You okay in there?”
Silence. What the hell is going on?
I’m just about to knock harder, maybe even push the door open, when I hear soft footsteps on the tile. A second later, the door opens, and there she is, towel wrapped around her. She smiles, but t it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Hey,” I say softly, brushing my fingers over her warm arm. “Everything okay? You locked the door.”
“I was alone,” she says.
A pause. A beat too long.
“Didn’t you see my note?” I ask.
She blinks, then slowly shakes her head. “No. I must’ve missed it.”
I cross to the coffee table and hold it up. She reads it. “I didn’t want to wake you. Thought about putting it on your pillow, but I saw how peaceful you looked.” I glance past her to the bathroom vanity and spot the coffee mug. “Maybe I should’ve left it by the coffee maker.”
She laughs, but there’s a hollowness to it. “I guess I just get nervous being alone,” she says.
That… doesn’t feel quite right. Is that really it? Or is there something she’s not saying? She couldn’t have overheard my call with Lyra. She was asleep. And even if she did, it wouldn’t mean anything. Not really.
“You’re not in California anymore, Char,” I remind her gently.
“You’re right,” she replies, though her voice is quiet. Too quiet.
My phone pings and I glance at it. “It’s Roman. I was talking to him earlier. I guess he must have forgotten to tell me something.”
